"Now, Howarti, look sharp! the bottom is clean sand: haul away,
and don't give them time to burrow beneath the leads."
Howarti hauled away, and as the net came near the shore, there was such
a splashing and jumping as he had rarely seen. The net came in upon the
clean sand-bank, and we counted upwards of forty fine boulti, several of
about four pounds, and the smallest about half a pound weight.
Howarti, having counted his fish, exclaimed, piously,
"Elliambd-el-Illah!" and added: "In future I shall always say
'Bismillah!'"
Howarti cleaned his net: the fish were placed in a basket, and were
covered with some river-weed to keep them fresh.
Once more the fisherman arranged his net upon his arm, and cautiously
approached a most inviting little nook, where some large lotus leaves
floating on the surface denoted a medium depth.
"Now then, Howarti, throw very carefully, so as to spread your net in
that open space among the lilies, and take care to avoid the leaf stems
that would lift the leads."
"Bismillah!" away flew the net, which fell in a circle, exactly in the
spot desired.
It was amusing to watch the usually stolid countenance of Howarti, that
was now expressive of intense curiosity.
