ater
strength to the line. We now got our bait ready. On this occasion it
was a live tame duck. Passing the bend of the hook round its neck, and
the shank under its right wing, we tied the hook in this position with
thread. We then made a small raft of the soft pith of the
plantain-tree, tied the duck to the raft and committed it to the
stream. Holding the rope as clear of the water as we could, the poor
quacking duck floated slowly down the muddy current, making an
occasional vain effort to get free. We saw at a distance an ugly snout
rise to the surface for an instant and then noiselessly disappear.
'There's one!' says Pat in a whisper.
'Be sure and not strike too soon,' says Willie.
'Look out there, you lazy rascals!' This in Hindostanee to the grooms
and servants who were with us.
Again the black mass rises to the surface, but this time nearer to the
fated duck. As if aware of its peril it now struggles and quacks most
vociferously. Nearer and nearer each time the black snout rises, and
then each time silently disappears beneath the turgid muddy stream. Now
it appears again; this time there are two, and there is another at a
distance attracted by the quacking of the duck. We on the bank cower
down and go as noiselessly as we can. Sometimes the rope dips on the
water, and the huge snout and staring eyes immediately disappear. At
length it rises within a few yards of the duck; then there is a mighty
rush, two huge jaws open and shut with a snap like factory shears, and
amid a whirl of foam and water and surging mud the poor duck and the
hideous reptile disappear, and but for the eddying swirl and dense
volumes of mud that rise from the bottom, nothing gives evidence of the
tragedy that has been enacted. The other two disappointed monsters swim
to and fro still further disturbing the muddy current.
'Give him lots of time to swallow,' yells Pat, now fairly mad with
excitement.
The grooms and grass-cutters howl and dance. Willie and I dig each
other in the ribs, and all generally act in an excited and insane way.
Pat now puts the rope over his shoulder, we all take hold, and with a
'one, two, three!' we make a simultaneous rush from the bank, and as
the rope suddenly tightens with a pull and strain that nearly jerks us
all on our backs, we feel that we have hooked the monster, and our
excitement reaches its culminating point.
What a commotion now in the black depths of the muddy stream! The
water, lashe
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