It contained a
regular "miraculous draught," including a Nile carp of about nine
pounds.
"That will do, Howarti," I exclaimed; "we have fish enough for all the
people on the diahbeeah, as well as for the officers of 'The Forty.'"
The basket would not contain them; therefore the larger fish were laid
upon grass in the bottom of the boat, and we returned home.
Howarti now divided the fish according to orders, and explained to the
delighted crowd the extraordinary effect of the word "Bismillah," which
insured a netful at every cast.
On the following morning, at sunrise, the now pious Howarti went out as
usual with his casting-net accompanied by a sailor, who carried the
largest basket he could procure.
We had moved our position, and there was no sand-bank in the
neighbourhood.
After an absence of about two hours, Howarti returned, together with his
companion and the large basket. This contained a few small fish hardly
sufficient for our breakfast.
"Ah, Howarti!" I exclaimed, "you are a bad Mussulman - you have
forgotten to say 'Bismillah.'"
"Indeed," replied the dejected fisherman, "I repeated 'Bismillah' at
every cast; but it's of no use saying 'Bismillah' in deep water; nothing
will catch them in the deep, and I can catch them without 'Bismillah' in
the shallows."
Howarti was not a fanatical Mohammedan. Poor fellow he never lived to
return with us to Khartoum:
