Summer days in South Mississippi seem to move as slow as maple syrup pours.  Two boys didn’t have trouble passing the time though.  One particular day the boys had been fishing most of the morning without much luck.  “Why do you think the fish aren’t biting?” asked Joseph.
“Well it’s probably because the wind is blowing. Ya know I heard a man at the Service Station say if there are ripples in the water you might as well put your poles down, it’s a waste of time,” replied Clay.
“Hm that makes since I guess,” said Joseph.  “I think I’ll try a few more casts though. I feel like I’m about to catch a good one.”
“You always say that.”
“It’s for real this time.”
“Whatever you say. I think I’m going to walk over to the small pond, maybe the wind isn’t blowing there.”
“Okay.”

Clay took his pole and made the short walk through a trail of pine trees to the pond.  It was much smaller than the one he and Joseph were at earlier.  It looked nearly unfishable because of all the snags.  The top of fallen trees from Hurricane Camille stuck out of the water warning of the dangers the fishing line faced underneath.  Clay had lost many a tackle to the grips of these unfortunate trees, and he had learned his lesson.  There was a small corner of the pond that a shade tree hung over where there were no snags and it was safe to fish.  The sides dropped down steeply making a good place for a fish to lie. 

Clay stood on the bank and dropped his worm in the water letting it sink to the bottom like his uncle had taught him.  When the line stopped sinking he popped it up twice and suddenly there was a sharp tug on his pole.  He yanked his pole up and reeled the fish in.  It was all so quick that Clay was surprised to see a fairly big bass hanging from his line.  Too bad he was too far away to show Joseph, he thought. 

When he looked in the fish’s mouth he was disheartened to see the hook deep in its throat.  Clay tried to wiggle it free but had no luck.  He always hated to see a fish that he had caught die if it wasn’t going to be eaten. There was a pair of needle nose pliers back where Joseph was so he started running back down the trail to the other pond.  Joseph got the pliers and started working on the fish immediately, but when blood started dripping out of its gills and down its tail, it was clear that it was too late.

Discouraged the boys decided it was time to head back to their uncle’s house and call it a day.  Aunt Suz had surely already started cooking supper and they were starting to get hungry anyways.  The boys gathered the poles and tackle box and started walking back down the trail where Clay had just been. They got to the small pond and took a left which went back to the house about a mile from there.  As they rounded the corner the sound of leaves crackling interrupted the previous silence.
“What was that?” asked Joseph.
“Shhhhhh,” Clay replied.
Clay crouched down and Joseph followed his lead. They sat the fishing gear down, and Clay pointed into the woods.  Above them branches from an old Magnolia stemmed out over the trail and the sun was starting to sink beneath some of the taller trees.  They thought maybe they had stumbled upon an unlucky rabbit or possum that they could chase after.  They didn’t come across the opportunity too often so they certainly weren’t going to let it go to waste. 
Clay slipped his shoes off and whispered to Joseph, “I’m going to sneak around behind that varmint and chase it out toward the pond so it will have to run right in to you.” “Okay I’ll wait here,” answered Joseph.  The sound of Clay tiptoeing through the woods got farther and farther away and the only thing Joseph could hear was the sound of his own breathing and an occasional bird chirping.  Joseph’s mind wandered off and he started thinking about how lucky he was to get to spend the summer here and how this place seemed secluded from the rest of the busyness and troubles of the world.  When suddenly the silence was broken by a loud “Yelp”.
“What is it!” exclaimed Joseph.  He heard no answer so he rushed over breaking through the thick brush bordering the trail.  A briar tripped him and he fell onto his knees.  Past the first line of brush the forest floor was covered in just pine straws and trees.  Disoriented, he stumbled to his feet and looked to his left where the sound of Clay had come from.  To his surprise he saw Clay looking right back at him about 20 feet away standing as still as a statue.  Then something between the two boys moved that Joseph hadn’t previously seen, a bear.
It turned toward Joseph and started to walk toward him.  Joseph started to ease back slowly trying not to startle the bear.  His back hit something hard and caused him to jolt alarming the bear.  “No!” cried Clay, as the bear started lumbering toward Joseph.
Joseph turned and saw just what he was looking for.  He had backed into the large Magnolia tree and to his left was a low branch that he grabbed and swung himself on to.  The bear’s steps were getting louder with each grab for a higher branch as he maneuvered his way up the tree.  The bear jumped and wrapped his arms around the tree but slid down.
Joseph gathered his thoughts and then yelled to Clay, “Go get Uncle Jeff!”  Without saying anything Clay darted off and down the trail.  The bear was back on the ground and he wasn’t trying to climb the tree anymore.  The bear was curious and was going to wait for Joseph to come down from the tree.  Joseph was straddling a branch with his feet hanging down.  He shifted around and brought his legs up propping them on another branch when he felt a sharp sting on his neck.
Suddenly a sound that hadn’t been audible to him, maybe because of the bear, filled his mind.  He looked up to where the buzzing noise was coming from, and to his dismay right above him was a beehive.  He looked back down and the bear was looking back at him when he felt a sting in his arm, then his leg, then another, and another.  It is tough to be caught between a bear and a beehive he thought.