146 FISHES I HAVE KNOWN 



including his excellent cook, and well supplied 

 with food, we sailed away with just enough ballast 

 to avoid disaster, and with a tremendous spread of 

 canvas aloft. 



At sunset we anchored with a kedge close to 

 some low-wooded cliffs, fifty miles down stream. 

 Next morning, the wind having entirely dropped, 

 we had to remain where v.-e were, and passed the 

 time in scooping up with hand nets multitudes of 

 small silvery fish, which, after being floured and 

 submitted to the ordeal of the frying-pan, re- 

 vealed themselves as rivals of the famous Thames 

 whitebait. 



For half that day, a gaucho, sitting on the cliffs 

 near us, everlastingly smoking cigarettes, fished 

 with what appeared to be a hop-pole and a cord. 

 Occasionally, when he woke up from a nap, he 

 pulled his line up, and we could see that his hook 

 was prodigious, and was baited with half an orange. 

 But he caught nothing. 



We had been told that some of the River Plate 

 big fish, if they could not be induced to take a 

 flesh bait, would eagerly snatch at fruit. Of 

 course, we ridiculed the idea, and set to work to 

 catch small fish for live bait, and with morsels of 

 beef succeeded in getting a good man)-, of what 

 kind I am unable to say, except that they had 



