The water was big and brown, the willows flooded past the shoreline. It was not likely to matter to the catfish. If anything, they probably like it better when they can scoot up into a cow pasture and retreat to the river again when the sun rises.
Cousin Neil turned the North River sled in a wide arc and triangulated: a point of rocks on this side, a gravel bar on the other, upstream of an overhanging tree, a skosh closer
