Chapter Forty One.
Onward from Wonderland.
They lingered about the falls for days, to revel in the beauties of the mighty cataract and the great gorge through which the waters afterwards ran. Then unwillingly the oxen were in-spanned, and their course was directed up the river, beyond the beautiful islands, and on mile after mile, till the bright transparent river flowed smoothly downward, and from its reedy banks plenty of game was obtained, the birds being plentiful, and very welcome as a change.
It was rather a dangerous haunt here on account of the crocodiles, but Jack was so passionately fond of fishing that he was humoured at times, and some transparent nook was chosen where the others could keep a look out for crocodiles; and as Jack fished, Dick would lie down upon the bank, with his face at times close to the water, and gazing through its limpid depths he tried to trace the long stalks of the water-lilies which rose from the depths to expand their broad leaves and cap-like flowers on the surface. The great reeds, too, rising joint by joint till their arrowy heads and green streamer-like leaves were in the broad sunshine, seemed to be moving and to quiver in the clear water.
This sub-fluvial growth was so beautiful that Dick never grew weary of watching it; while the coming and going of the many brightly-tinted fish, darting about among the water-plants or hanging poised in the sunlit depths, with their burnished scales flashing silvery and steel-blue rays, added greatly to the interest of the scene.
“Let us know when you see one coming,” Jack would say; and now and then Dick would whisper that a large perch-like fish, or perhaps one of the huge eely siluri, was approaching; though just as often Coffee or Chicory would utter a word of warning, when a rifle-bullet would be sent to startle some great crocodile, floating in fancied security down the calm waters, its hideous eyes turned from side to side in search of prey.
Once only did they succeed in getting the monster ashore, the others, when hit, sinking sullenly to the bottom, or descending with a rush that made the water foam.
The want of a boat prevented them from having far more sport upon the river; but, as Mr Rogers said, they had come upon a land expedition, and their horses were getting fresh for want of work. So Jack had to bring his fishing to an end; though, truth to tell, it was not much of a loss, for his additions to the larder in the way of fish were not particularly large, nor so toothsome as they might have been.