I often admired his
perseverance, when, after twenty or thirty barren casts, he rested for a
while, cleaned his net, and waded, in spite of crocodiles, to seek a
more likely spot to catch fish for breakfast, at a time when this meal
would depend entirely upon his success. At such times I frequently
advised him as a good Mohammedan to say "Bismillah" (in the name of God)
before he threw the net. On the first occasion, before I gave him this
advice, he had had extremely bad luck, and he told me that "something
was wrong with the fish;" as he had thrown his net for an hour without
catching anything, except a few uneatable spike-fish.
I advised him to come with me in the dingy; and having rowed a short
distance, we arrived at a sand-bank in the bend of the river. Here we
landed, and I found fault with Howarti for omitting to say "Bismillah!"
"Will it do any good?" asked the profane Howarti. "Try," I replied; "you
know the opinion of Mohammedans; now then, Howarti, say 'Bismillah,' and
throw just in that hole close to the weeds. Spin your net so that it
shall fall perfectly round, and advance very quietly to the edge, so
that your shadow shall not disturb the fish."
"Bismillah!" ejaculated Howarti, and he crept cautiously forward to a
very likely-looking hole.
