It was a big predator. With large, sharp teeth made to tear flesh. It’s coloring blended in very well with the natural coloring in the lake. It could hide and surprise it’s victims from anywhere. It would devour living or dead flesh. Made no difference to The Predator. The Predator was the biggest fish in the water. He had been here so long, he had long forgotten just how he came to be. The humans tried hard to catch him with hook, line and sinker. They had hooked him a few times but he was big. Too big for the ordinary fishing gear. He carried a hook in his flesh and other scares as proof. The Predator was hunting.
Elmer carried his fishing pole and tackle to his favorite spot along side the Whereyouat River. This was on the outlet side of Phume Lake. As opposed to the inlet side, which this was not. When fishing the inlet side, one would expect to catch fish. He did not want to catch fish. He wanted to spend some time winding down from his last trip. The fire almost had him that time. It did get his travel camper and he was waiting for the insurance to kick in. This was a good spot to not catch fish. Not catching fish was just what was needed to forget, at least for a little while, the world’s problems. He set up his chair, tackle and loaded his fishing pole. He cast the line out, set the pole on the forked pole holder, opened a brewski and settled in for an afternoon of quite, lazy, not catching fish.
The Predator whirled around. He heard a noise behind him. Now he could smell food. His favorite food. Worm! But where? He saw ripples in the surface water about 40 feet away. Was that it? He left his cover, a length of large log jammed into the bottom. He went to investigate. But not a direct path. No, never a direct path. He was too crafty for that. A direct path would spook the worm.
Elmer reached down, twitched the line a little. A fine tactic to discourage the fish. Or would it attract them? Oh well.
The Predator could see the worm. A fine, big one. He was exited. Hey! It seemed to be suspended about half way up. What kept it there? It moved! And that thing above it moved! More ripples. The Predator dashed for a hiding place. He stayed in his hiding spot for some time. His heart was thumping and his fins were shaking. A close one. As he waited, his hunger grew. He forgot about his fear as the hunger grew. Hunger finally drove him to leave his hideout. He followed the scent back to the worm.
Elmer got up to use the left hand tree to get ride of some of the brews he had consumed, tripped over his pole. The line twitched. Hard.
This time the worm came right at The Predator. A very scary action. The Predator was so scared it could hardly react. But when he did react, he forgot about the hiding spot, went straight for the worm, trapped it in his jaws and ran with it! It was his! Finally, a fine meal.
Elmer turned back to his chair, saw the bobber go under. He said a few things under his breath. He was not in a mood to catch fish. He just wanted to fish. Didn’t anyone know the difference? Now the line was taunt and traveling upstream to what appeared to be a small log. He didn’t want to be hung up on the log. He hurried to the fishing pole, picked it up, gave it a light yank. Started to reel the fish in.
The Predator felt a not-so-strange pain in his jaw. He had been fooled again. He was hooked! He was suddenly yanked around, dragged backwards. Well, he was no stranger to this situation. After all, he was The Predator. He had been hooked before. He immediately whirled around and headed for his hiding spot next to the large log.
Elmer tightened the drag some, reeled in the line. The resistance increased. Once again the line was going toward the small log. Elmer had enough of this playing around. He readjusted the drag, reeled in the line. This one was not going to get away.
The Predator was really hooked. He realized he was not going to get away. The hook was set good. He put up a great fight. After all these years, it looked like the end was near. He had lived a long life, grew large, had many a fight and fine meal. He had no regrets.
Elmer lifted the fish out of the water, he inspected the fish. It had a smallish bite mark on its side and a very small hook stuck in one fin. It was about a half pound pike. Elmer unhooked it, threw it back. Cast the line without putting bait on the hook. After all, he was just fishing.
The Predator was spared one more time.
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