At some of the stations the men seek a little diversion, and incidentally add occasionally to their pocket-money, by shark-catching, which is a tolerably profitable pursuit, since these waters are thickly infested with this fish. The jawbone and backbone invariably find ready purchasers, the former being mounted as a curiosity, while the backbone forms a novel and serviceable walking-stick. One method of trapping these monsters which affords keen delight was related to me. The requirements are an electric battery, some rope, a few feet of electric wire, a cartridge, and an empty box, with a chunk or two of bad meat. The cartridge is fitted with an electric primer, the wire of which stretches to the battery. This cartridge is buried in a hunk of meat, the whole being dangled from a box--an empty cask is better--which serves as a float, while a rope is stretched from the box to the shore, with the electric wire spirally wound round it. A short length of chain is preferable, if available, to attach the bait to the float, but a short piece of rope will do. This novel line is thrown into the water, and the man keeps his eye on the float, with one finger on the battery. The hungry shark, espying the tempting morsel, makes a grab and swallows it, but the chain prevents him tearing away with it. The pull causes the float to disappear, the man’s finger presses the button, and the trick is done. There is an explosion, and pieces of shark and showers of water fly into the air. The incident is all over too quickly for the fish to marvel about the strange indigestibility of the tainted meat he grabbed so greedily. The men enjoy this sport hugely when it can be followed, as they regard the shark with intense detestation. [Illustration: _By permission of the “Syren and Shipping.”_ KEEPER CLEANING THE LAMP AFTER IT HAS COOLED DOWN.] Despite the vigilance of the various Powers, slave-running is still a lucrative business on these forbidding coasts. Now and again a forced labourer gets away from his taskmaster, and comes panting into the lighthouse territory. This is sanctuary to the hapless wretch, and although the keepers invariably receive a call from the runaway’s master, he meets with scant courtesy, while his demand for the surrender of the fugitive is answered by a point-blank refusal. The slave-driver may storm, threaten, and abuse, to his heart’s content, and, as he is generally a past-master in Arabian invective, the keepers have to listen to a pretty tune. But the slave is kept in the lighthouse until the relief-tender makes its periodical call, when he is taken back to Suez and liberated.