44 FISHING. |CHAP. 11.
given, a general rush, took place, and in half an hour
a similar scene was enacted to that of hippo No. 2.
The entire Arab camp was in commotion and
full of joy at this unlooked-for arrival of flesh.
Camels laden with meat and hide toiled along the
sandy bed of the river; the women raised their long
and shrill cry of delight; and we were looked upon
as general benefactors for having brought them a
supply of good food in this season of distress.
In the afternoon I arranged my tackle, and
strolled down to the pool to fish. There was a
difficulty in procuring bait; a worm was never
heard of in the burning deserts of Nubia, neither
had I a net to catch small fish; I was, therefore,
obliged to bait with pieces of hippopotamus.
Fishing in such a pool as that of the Atbara was
sufficiently exciting, as it was impossible to speculate
upon what creature might accept the invitation;
but the Arabs who accompanied me, were
particular in guarding me against the position I had
taken under a willow-bush close to the water, as
they explained, that most probably a crocodile would
take me instead of the bait; they declared that
accidents had frequently happened when people had
sat upon the bank either to drink with their hands,
or even while watching their goats. I accordingly
fished at a few feet distant from the margin, and
presently I had a bite; I landed a species of perch
about two pounds weight; this was the “ boulti,”
one of the best Nile fish mentioned, by the traveller
Bruce. In a short time I had caught a respectable
dish of fish, but hitherto no monster had paid me
the slightest attention; accordingly I changed my
bait, and upon a powerful hook, fitted upon trebletwisted
wire, I fastened an enticing strip of a boulti.
The bait was about four ounces, and glistened like
silver; the water was tolerably clear, but not too
bright, and with such an attraction I expected something
heavy. My float was a large-sized pike-float
for live bait, and this civilized sign had been only
a few minutes in the wild waters of the Atbara,
when, bob! and away it went! I had a .very large
reel, with nearly three hundred yards of line that
had been specially made for monsters; down went
the top of my rod as though a grindstone was suspended'
on it, and, as I recovered its position, away
went the line, and the reel revolved, not with the
sudden dash of a spirited fish, but with the steady
determined pull of a trotting horse. What on
earth have I got hold of? In a few minutes about
a hundred yards of line were out, and as the creature
was steadily, but'slowly, travelling down the
centre of the channel, I determined to cry “ halt!”
if possible, as my tackle was extremely strong, and
my rod was a single bamboo. Accordingly, I put
on a powerful strain, which was replied to by a
sullen' tug, a shake, and again my rod was pulled
suddenly down to the water s edge. At length,
after the roughest handling, I began to reel in
slack line, as my unknown friend had doubled