The leads are drawn together by their own
weight, and close the bottom of the net, and the fish are imprisoned.
Sometimes he uses bow and arrows. This he does after putting into the water
certain fruit and herbs which are very bitter. The juice of these herbs
affects the water and drives the fish to the surface, where they leap about
in pain. The fisherman shoots them with an arrow to which a cord is
attached, and draws them ashore.
As night falls after a hot day, the people and children of the village
near at hand will come down to the water-side on a fire-fly hunt. The tiny
gleaming creatures now flash along the surface of river and lake, like a
myriad of fairy lanterns flitting through the dusk. They are caught and
imprisoned in little silken cages. At the bottom of the cage there is a
very small mound of earth in which a millet seed has been planted and has
sprung up to the height of an inch or more, and beside the little plant
there is a tiny bowl of water. Here the firefly will live for several days,
to the delight of the children.
Not far from the river is the village, with a brook running down the middle
of its street. This brook serves many purposes. The women kneel beside it
with sleeves and kimonos tucked up, washing clothes and vegetables, or
dipping buckets in it to get water for baths. There is a loud rattle of
wooden hammers at various points, for the stream turns a number of small
water-wheels, and these work big wooden hammers which pound up the rice
placed in a big stump of a tree hollowed out for a mortar.
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