pike

Carl and I tried fishing in the lake by the shack, but we didn't have much luck. I wasn't surprised because during previous visits, we didn't catch any fish in the lake at all. There were a bunch of small fish in the pond below the lake, and they were eager to eat anything remotely edible thrown into the pond, whether it had a hook in it or not. It was a bit disappointing because we didn't have much money for food, and a few fresh fish would have made a nice change from canned soups and beans and rice that we had been eating. Also, fishing can be a decent way to pass the time on a warm sunny day in the north woods. At least it can if you catch a fish or two, or even almost catch a fish or two.
It seemed especially disappointing because of the legendary stories of fish caught in the lake in the early seventies when our family visited the cabin. Some big northern pike had been caught in the lake. My mother caught a twenty six inch pike. When it was cleaned and gutted, there was a mouse in its stomach. We imagined some poor little mouse getting a drink of water from the edge of the lake, and a giant prehistoric looking fish lunging out of the lake to grab it. After that we were a little reluctant to dangle our feet over the edge of the boat into the water, even on really hot days. If it would eat a mouse, maybe it would also enjoy a toe or two.
So it seemed a letdown to fish for a few hours and catch nothing but some mosquito and horsefly bites. There seemed to be some kind of fish around, because we'd occasionally see them snap at insects on the surface of the lake, but nothing seemed interested in our hooks or lures.
Carl and I eventually caught a few very small fish, and although it barely seemed worth it, we gutted them and hung them out in the sun to dry. We figured we'd chop them up and make some kind of fish soup from them. We tried, and it was pretty horrible, so we didn't try again.