It was

July. My nephew and I had spent the day swimming at the stream just at the edge of the

campground that backed up next to the river here in the Ozarks. About half an hour before dark we decided to start fishing.

We fished in peace with the noise of the campground behind us for about an hour or so and by the time all the daylight faded and

night took over I was finally starting to get some nibbles from the fish.

I had my swim trunk still on so I decided to wait across the shallow stream.

I had an LED headlight that could change the three different colors.

I had the white light on as I crossed the stream and I found a little

sandbar to stand about knee deep in the water. I was about 25 feet from the far side of the

riverbank which was nothing but thick forest in a steep hillside.

I settled into my little spot and I flipped my headlight to the red LED light and I cast my line into the water near some logs I had noticed on the other

side of the river bank.

As soon as my bait hit the water with no warning at all, something smacked the water three feet in front of me

it could have been closer so close that I felt a hard thud on the river bottom with my feet

and I turned my head to look back at my nephew only to see him drop his pole and start running

back to his mother at the campsite. I snapped my head back toward the direction from whatever this thing was had come from.

Hey! I shouted into the trees and I flipped my headlight onto the bright white setting

and grabbed my handheld flashlight, stashed in my front pocket of my swim trunks, and

drown the trees with light trying to get a glimpse of what had thrown such a heavy object

at me. I was scanning the woods and was overcome with the distinct

feeling that I was very vulnerable, that I was being watched, and I decided that I

didn't want to stand there alone any longer.

...