I had a place, which the fishermen thought likely, surrounded with a drag-net, and, by making use not only of the net itself but also of the long ropes with which its two ends were dragged ashore, we managed to enclose a very considerable space. Round these ropes the sailors twined a quantity of green boughs to scare the fish and prevent their escaping into deep water. So, when the ends of the net on either side were drawn to land, the fish were driven into a narrow space; they then began to get frightened and did their best to escape, each following its natural instinct. Some tried to avoid the danger by a bold leap over the net. Others, on the contrary, by burrowing in the sand endeavoured to save themselves from being entangled. Some tried to gnaw through the meshes, though they were made of very coarse twine; these were mostly of the shark tribe, which are armed with powerful teeth. These creatures have such instinct that when they have bitten away twine enough to open a passage for one, the whole shoal follows where the first has got out, and leaves not one for the fisherman. As I was afraid of this trick, of which I had been warned beforehand, I stood in the bows holding a pole with which I kept striking their noses as they gnawed at the net, much to the amusement of my attendants. My efforts were rewarded with only partial success; a few were caught, but a great many got away. So you see that even a fish, when hard put to it, can turn cunning. However, we took plenty of other fish to console us for the loss of some of the sharks—such as sea bream, sea scorpions, weavers, char, rock-fish, and ruffs. Their variety made them a pretty sight, and I greatly enjoyed making out their names and habits. So at night I returned to my camp with my bark wreathed with laurels, and laden with booty and prisoners. The next day I shared my spoils with Ali Pasha and his major-domo, who returned me their grateful thanks, and said the present was very acceptable.