My flying fish story

Pastor Tom Howe has two small grandchildren visiting this weekend and took them fishing    Saturday.  They enjoyed themselves although they were disappointed not to see bears, lions and tigers in the woods.

It brought back to mind what I remember as my first fishing trip.  We were celebrating July Fourth .with a family outing  on Bayou Dorcheat.  Dad had entrusted me to a cousin who was several years older and an experienced fisherman.  I don't remember but my cousin had probably baited my hook and placed me where he was confidant I could catch a fish.

And catch a fish I did.  I saw the cork go under and move away.  I jerked my pole out of the water and whipped fish, line and cork over my head up into a big tree. We managed to get the fish to the ground and I proudly displayed my goggle eye perch.

By the time we were called to lunch I was ready for more excitement.  I baited the hook and stuck the pole into the bank, hoping to find a fish when I returned.  Imagine my joy when I got back and found the line stretched tight,  indicating I had made a catch. Now an expert, I   brought the catch straight into the bank, only to drop it  and run from the cotton mouth moccasin caught on the hook.