And Norah's heart warmed to the quiet humanity of the scene. A thought struck her: 'What about those babies and crocs?' she asked.
'Oh!' said Dick. 'There aren't crocs everywhere. It's uninhabited bays they like.'
The advent of the steamer created no stir. At last a family, more enterprising or more avaricious than the rest, was moved to abandon the quietude of their verandah for the yellow sunlight of the beach, where their naked forms were silhouetted, straining at the launch of one of the dozen grey dugouts that pointed in every direction on the sand. The example set, the Mimi was soon ringed by slim canoes laden with long bunches of bananas, purplish green mangoes, and fish of the lake.
'Better buy some, Dick, we haven't too much food with us,' counselled Norah. 'And we mayn't have another chance before Kigoma.'
'What about half a dozen of those?' he pointed to an odd looking yellow barbel with grotesque whiskers. It was as big as a child of ten.
Norah shuddered.
'What's that?' she asked in Swahili, pointing to another fish. 'Is it good eating?'
'Coupi, memsahib,' said the villager, holding up a sort of carp that looked as if it had been inexpertly dyed a poisonous saffron.
'See the blue marking on its belly!' said Dick. 'What a colour!'
'Lapis-lazuli, isn't it?'"