Vast Multitudes Of Canaries

They head back to the Mangalia Field Centre, in Cristian's Jeep.

Rich sits in the front beside Cristian.

Gaius is in the back, with Arthur and Proust

Proust is holding the bottle containing the spider.

The spider is almost transparent.

And doesn't look well.

This spider, says Gaius (largely for the benefit of the spider), is distantly related to spiders found in the Canary Islands.

The spider has heard this already, but it's nice to hear it repeated.

You don't say, says Proust. This engenders in me a great deal of respect for the spider, and I shall stop calling it Daniel.

Daniel. So that was its name. And now it isn't. The spider is confused at the quicksilver nature of language.

May I ask why you were calling it Daniel? asks Gaius.

I met a young woman, says Proust. On the beach. She is in love with someone or possibly two persons, who go by the name of Daniel.

Aha, says Gaius. I understand perfectly, but this can have nothing to do with the spider.

Arthur, says Cristian, Do you have the key?

Yes, says Arthur. In my pocket.

Remind me when we get back, says Cristian.

Sure, says Arthur.

Proust is still thinking about Daniel. Is he younger than me? More suntanned? Less introspective?

Gaius is thinking about the spider. Ridiculous to saddle it with the name of a rival. Look at it there in the bottle. Not that it's easy to see. But there is certainly an air of despondency in and around that bottle. Perhaps some talk of the Canary Islands would render the spider more cheerful.

The Canary Islands, says Gaius, were named by King Juba the Second, of Mauretania. Does anyone know why he might have chosen that name?

Everyone suspects a trick question, excluding the spider.

No one? says Gaius.

No one is willing to say.

Tell us, says Rich. I bet it's nothing to do with canaries.

Correct! says Gaius. The islands were so named because they contained vast multitudes of dogs, of a very large size.

This is good news to the spider, who would have been wary of meeting a vast multitude of canaries.

( By this we can see that the spider has hopes of visiting his long lost relations, and has no idea of distance).

Dogs, says Arthur. I get it. Canaria in Latin.

Well done, Arthur, says Gaius. Nowadays however it is thought that the so-called dogs were probably monk seals or sea dogs.

Fascinating stuff, says Rich.

Most intriguing, says Cristian. Gaius, you're a fountain of knowledge.

Proust has bucked up a little, at the mention of seadogs, which has set him off thinking of sailors.

And the spider is growing more cheerful by the minute.