The conditions were certainly favourable enough for sport, for the river, swollen by the rain, was now swift and turbid, and even through the muddy water we could see the fish snapping at the floating insects and _débris_ that had been swept into the stream. Nor was there any scarcity of bait, for snails, large and small, crept upon every bush, and caterpillars and grubs could be collected by the dozen. Osman served out to each of us four hooks, while I furnished the others with lengths of cotton yarn, and soon we were fully equipped, with the spare hooks stuck in our _rigas_. A fat, green caterpillar served me for bait, and with my spear as a rod I proceeded to make a trial cast. The fish were truly most confiding. Quite unsuspicious of the thick white yarn and the great hook, they proceeded to gorge the wriggling bait and came up spluttering on to the bank in the greatest astonishment. It was magnificent, but it was not sport; however, the basket soon began to wax heavy, and visions of broiled fish floated across my mental horizon. “Where are Ali and Osman?” I asked of Baku, who was fishing a few yards away from me. “They are further down, just by the bend,” he replied. “If they have been as successful as thou and I, they will have nearly enough,” I said, for I had seen Baku hooking the fish out even faster than I was doing. “We must not stay too long, or we shall have the darkness upon us.” “That is true,” he answered. “I shall go and collect a few more caterpillars, and then when I have caught three more fish I shall angle no more.” He wound up his line and began searching the bushes, among which I soon lost sight of him. I had just stowed a specially large fish in my basket when, looking up, it seemed to me that the light was beginning to fail. “Come, Baku,” I called out; “here is the evening closing in, and we have to get back. We must start at once.” He did not answer. “Where art thou, Baku?” I called again, raising my voice, as I wound up my line and stuck the hook in my _riga_. There was still no answer. “Ho, there!” I shouted. “Ali! Osman! Where are you all?” I listened, but not a sound came back but the cry of a hornbill that had been startled by my shout.