CHAPTER IX. 
THE BIG FISH. 
Though it was only seven in the morning, the 
air was already hot, for the sky was cloudless 
and the north wind blew straight from the 
Equator. We were to drift downstream, and 
the launch was to follow and pick us up. We 
were then still in the middle stage of our career, 
searching the water, sometimes finding fish, 
sometimes not, painfully building up experi¬ 
ence. The river was wide, over five hundred 
yards, and swift: we kept the canoe inshore, 
and fished the streams which looked likely. 
From my present knowledge, I know that we 
wasted much time over unprofitable places. 
True, we confined ourselves to the fast streams, 
which was right; you can leave the slow flowing 
water alone at this time of year : but we did not 
yet know how to select. The water for dorado 
is not deep, and it is lively; look out always for 
a current compressed between two rocks; for 
{Water tumbling over a submerged reef; and 
above all for a fast smooth racing glide. 
For an hour nothing happened. We fished 
