he Fool, and not his brother of the
cruel teeth who lies down below through the clear water. A mistake on
this point means a sudden violent commotion on the surface, a glimpse of
an agonised human face mutely imploring aid, the slow blending of
certain scarlet patches of fluid with the surrounding water, and then a
return to silence and peace, and the calm of an unruffled sea. But if it
is indeed the Fool that floats so idly below them, the boatmen know that
much meat will presently be theirs. The swimmer cautiously approaches
the great lazy fish, which makes no effort to avoid him. Then the gently
agitated fingers of a human hand are pressed against the monster's side
just below the fins, and fish and man rise to the surface, the latter
tickling gently, the former placid and delighted by the novel sensation.
The swimmer then hitches one hand on to the boat in order to support
himself, and continues the gentle motion of the fingers of his other
hand, which still rests under the fin of his prey. The great fish seems
too intoxicated with pleasure to move. It presses softly against the
swimmer, and the men in the boat head slowly for the shore. When the
shallow water is reached every weapon on board is plunged into the body
of the Fool, and he is cut up at leisure.

Cray-fish also are caught by tickling all along the coast. The
instrument used in this case is not the human hand, but a small rod,
called a _jai_, to the end of which a rattan noose is fixed. The work is
chiefly entrusted to little children, who paddle into the shallow water
at points where the cray-fish are feeding, and gently tickle the itching
prominent eyeballs of their victims. The irritation in these organs must
be constant and excessive, for the cray-fish rub them gently against
any object that presents itself, and when they feel the soothing
friction of the rattan noose they lie motionless, paralysed with
pleasure. The noose is gradually slipped over the protruding eyes, when
it is drawn taut, and thus the great prawns are landed. Even when the
strain has been taken too soon, and a cray-fish has escaped with one
eyeball wrenched from its socket, it not uncommonly occurs that the
intolerable irritation in its other eye drives it back once more to the
rattan noose, there to have the itching allayed by the gentle friction.

Jelly-fish, too, abound on the East Coast. They come aboard in the nets,
staring with black beady eyes from out the shapeless masses