In a short time I had caught a respectable dish
of fish, but hitherto no monster had paid me the slightest
attention; accordingly I changed my bait, and upon a powerful
hook, fitted upon treble-twisted wire, I fastened an enticing
strip of a boulti. The bait was about four ounces, and glistened
like silver; the water was tolerably clear, but not too bright,
and with such an attraction I expected something heavy. My float
was a large-sized pike-float for live bait, and this civilized
sign had been only a few minutes in the wild waters of the
Atbara, when, bob! and away it went! I had a very large reel,
with nearly three hundred yards of line that had been specially
made for monsters; down went the top of my rod, as though a
grindstone was suspended on it, and, as I recovered its position,
away went the line, and the reel revolved, not with the sudden
dash of a spirited fish, but with the steady determined pull of
a trotting horse. What on earth have I got hold of? In a few
minutes about a hundred yards of line were out, and as the
creature was steadily but slowly travelling down the centre of
the channel, I determined to cry "halt!" if possible, as my
tackle was extremely strong, and my rod was a single bamboo.
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