FISHING 



light rods made of the mid-rib of a kitool or coconut 

 palm leaf, with a light line and tiny hook baited with 

 anything, caught as many of the aforementioned tiny fish 

 as we required for bait, depositing them, all alive, in the 

 water in the bottom of the canoe. We could also replenish 

 our stock the same way out at the fishing ground whilst 

 waiting for bites at our bigger lines. 



Arrived at the desired spot, we used to stick a couple 

 of poles in the mud (water and mud here perhaps a com- 

 bined 6-8 feet in depth), and fasten our canoe to them, 

 bait our big hooks by impaling one of our small live baits 

 through the back, coil the line, seize it about 4 or 5 feet 

 above the big float, whirl it deftly around one's head and 

 let go with equal deftness in the direction required, after 

 which we used to sit smoking, talking, or fishing for more 

 bait, until a bite would make itself evident at one of our 

 big lines by the violent agitation of the float. The fish 

 we go for in particular is that known in Singhalese as the 

 loola, by far the best fresh-water fish we have. Its scientific 

 name is, I believe, Ophiocephalus striatus, and it is anything 

 but a beauty. It has an enormous head, broad and flat, 

 and a mouth wide enough to put any frog to utter shame. 

 Its body narrows away from the broad, flat head, but is 

 fairly deep. The back is blacky-grey in colour, becoming 

 more or less mottled on a dirty-white background towards 

 the belly, which is dirty-white in colour. 



They run from 3 Ibs. to perhaps 10 Ibs. in weight, and 

 those we used to catch weighed from 3 Ibs. to 7 Ibs. 



Seeing the miserable live-bait swimming frantically 

 round in circles, one of these ugly monsters comes slimily 

 through the weeds, and very deliberately sucks his victim 

 into his vast mouth ; a few moments being allowed for 

 absorption, a violent tug is given to the line, when, after 



327 



