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Updated: June 10, 2025
"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.
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.
In fishing in the lake at Gondokoro Howarti had the usual charge of the proceedings. We dragged a boat across the neck of land from the river, and having launched it, we first laid a stop net 140 yards in length along the bank of bulrushes that grew in water about five feet deep; this was to stop the fish from running into the rushes on the advance of the drag-net.
I had therefore intrusted him with the charge of the nets. All the sailors of the diahbeeah were good men, but the fisherman, Howarti, was the best of the picked crew. He was a Nubian, born in Khartoum, and of an exceedingly light colour.
Poor Howarti was dead, and they had left him in the grass by the roadside, as it was impossible to transport him. The rear-guard had been hotly pressed, and the natives had rushed upon the path close to the sniders, which had punished them severely.
"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.
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."
No sooner had the fisherman commenced to tighten the crown line, when the rapid and powerful jerks showed that he had something good within his net. "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.
These men were Jali, Mohammed, and Howarti; all of whom were armed, and fell into the line of rank and file as soldiers. The No. 3 steamer had been packed with much care. The carts had been loaded with the heavy portions that could not be transported by carriers, and we had proved our capability of travelling provided the Baris of Bedden would remain faithful to their promise.
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. "Bismillah!" and with a dexterous throw, the net described an exact circle as it fell evenly upon the water.
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