All right, all right. I got a busy day, but I've got time to get out one story in a video today,

and here it is. The writer's name is, oh, by the way, at the end of this story, I'm going to talk

about something different if you guys want to hang around and listen to that. I'm going to talk

about some of the things I say on this channel and some of the things that crack me up about the

comments, so if you want to hang around and listen to that, that's fine. But back to this story,

the writer's name is David, and he writes, this tale was related to me by my fourth grade PE coach,

and it made an impression on me. I'm not sure where he heard it or how true it is. It takes place in

Cato Lake, which has a history of sightings of unknown creatures. It terrified me as a child.

The Night Watchman. The sun was setting in Old City, Louisiana, as the man made his way to his

post. He was to be the new Night Watchman, for one of the many old Derrick's that had been erected

over the short period of time, since all had been discovered in nearby Cato Lake and the surrounding

swamps and marshlands. It would be a decent job, he thought, keeping an eye on the various tools

and equipment that the wildcat or crew used during the day to pull the crew from the belly of the

earth. You just had to make it through the night without falling asleep. As the new man,

he had been picked to watch the Derrick furthest back from a particular boggy section of swamp.

Having no boat available to pull through the muck, he decided to walk along the bank.

It would take a little longer, but the track through the swamp wouldn't be anything he hadn't

done before, and he wanted to make an impression to hopefully move up to a higher-paying position

on a day crew. The canopy of trees quickly blotted out what little light was left, and he paused

to light a kerosene lantern that he carried with a match. The amber light spilled out to push

back some of the gloom, and he continued on. The smell of the Cypress trees in stagnant mud were

all companions that he had grown to love from his life spent in the Louisiana bottoms.

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