Fishing Stories

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A Fishhing Story

This is a story related to me by my father when I was small. He said he actually saw this happen in a fish weir, and have never forgot it.

Well, I never forgot it either, but I cannot for the life of me decipher its meaning. Or perhaps I don't see the forest because of the trees?

The following story was embellished a little to make the story a bit more exciting, except that the embellishments are what might have happened had they been witnessed. Anyroad, just read on.

There was once a squid and a black-striped croaker who were caught in a fish weir. After several days of captivity, they were very hungry and saw the other as food. But being of roughly equal size, and both relatively dangerous, they were naturally leery of the surroundings and wary of each other. So they kept an unobtrusive vigil, neither letting its guard down.

For days they circled the confines of the weir, keeping a sharp eye on each other. Finally, the croaker cannot take it anymore and made a sly and purposeful sudden attack. But the squid was alert, squirted some ink, changed color and escaped. The croaker rushed the dark ink anew before it realized the squid was not there anymore. So it prowled the cage again until it spotted the squid camouflaged against a mossy weir post.read more