Sree's bait was some very stiff paste, which he was working up out of a couple of handfuls of flour; and he made haste to explain that if the fish did not take this well, he should soon change the lure.
"But we must catch one first."
The lines were strong and the hooks tied on gimp, such as would have been used for pike-fishing at home, for the fish of the Siamese rivers had not been tried for till they were as shy as ours at home, and before many minutes had elapsed the boys each had his baited hook thrown out from the opposite side of the boat six or eight yards away, the leads sinking some six feet in the fairly clear water, and with fingers just feeling the pierced lead, they waited.
It was not the first by many times that the boys had fished together in the river, and they pretty well knew what they were likely to catch; but they were not prepared to sit beneath the hot sunshine for so long without a sign of there being fish about.
"Come, be sharp," cried the doctor banteringly. "I thought we were going to have a good fry for dinner. How soon shall I send the men ashore to make a fire?"
"Fishermen always have patience," said Harry.
"But people who want their dinner do not," said Mr. Kenyon, laughing.
"I say, Sree," whispered Harry, "they will not bite at paste."
"Pull up your line, Sahib," said the hunter.
Harry did as he was told, and Sree smiled.