SOME SOUTH AMERICAN FISHES 157 



good line, and a conspicuous fly at the end of the 

 wire trace, for ordinary gut would be instantly 

 severed by the sharp-toothed tucunar^s and 

 peranhas I was after. 



A vast number of fish were frantically but 

 vainly struggling to ascend the current. At 

 intervals some monster would make a dash into 

 their midst, when they would leap into the air in 

 clouds to escape their pursuers. All I had to do 

 in order to secure some of them was to hit right 

 and left with a paddle. But this was not fair 

 angling. 



At this point the river formed an arc of a great 

 half-circle like a horseshoe. The banks were 

 crowded with tall trees, from whose branches hung 

 miniature gardens of many-coloured orchids and 

 creepers. On the beach grew mimosas laden with 

 odoriferous blossom, clumps of tall bamboos, tree- 

 ferns, and palms. The rocks, around which the 

 current swirled, were covered with vividly green 

 mosses and aquatic plants, while gorgeous butter- 

 flies and equally brilliant humming-birds flitted 

 about in every direction — all so unlike a salmon 

 or trout stream at home. 



However, I was after fish, and not after the 

 picturesque. So, without waiting for a ri.se, I cast 

 the line into the broken water. Never was there 



