The Green caldron - University Library

May, 1962
TAKE
Caution! Fisherman at Work!
Thane Erik Gustafson
Rhetoric 101, Theme 2
AN AVERAGE MAN, PLACE HIM IN THE WATER, IN
a small boat, give him a rod, a reel, and an assortment of pieces of
feather and steel for bait, and keep him there for five hours or more.
It matters little how mild-mannered the specimen may have been at the
outset; you will invariably wind up with a bristling wildcat, ready to snap
at the slightest provocation. His original intention of spending a peaceful
and relaxing day on the water has been changed into a seething urge to kill.
Take my case, for instance. I have been sitting in this boat since early
this morning. The sun is hot, the air is humid, and every insect for miles
around has congregated here for the express purpose of pestering me. Some-
time after sunrise, a large fly decreed that it was fiesta time, and the whole
assembly has been dancing a wild fandango in my ears ever since. Three of
my best lures are dangling from the tree-tops, and not one fish has come my
way in over three hours.
Everything started out well enough, I guess. I reached the lake this
morning just as the sky was beginning to unfurl in the east, and by the time
I was out on the water I could make out a few vague silhouettes. A smoky
mist hung over the water, and it parted gently as the prow of the boat glided
through. A frog grunted somewhere in the dimness, and the water shivered
slightly as a light breeze whispered over it. A bird called, in answer to a
secret signal, and morning came.
My fly wobbled and twitched in the water as I flicked my rod. Suddenly,
the water clapped and flew in all directions as the bass struck. He gulped
my fly and took off for the bottom ; all I could see was my line dancing in
crazy gyrations as a silver streak headed toward the lily pads. I managed
to change his course back to the open water, and he charged in wild fury
toward the surface. My reel screamed as I gave him line. Jrle danced and
wove on the surface with mounting frenzy. Suddenly, the line went slack ; he
was gone. As the last ripple died, the pond-lilies primly settled their skirts
and stared disapprovingly at my bedraggled fly, which had floated to the
surface.
Do you wonder now that fishing affects people so? Can it be otherwise,
when every weapon in nature's arsenal is being used against the fisherman
low-hanging branches, decorated like Christmas trees with the lures of past
adventurers, a breeze that is just strong enough to make it impossible to
keep the boat still in the water, and fish that are just smart enough to know
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