I'd managed to hook baits to a couple of poles by the time he waded back to shore. He glanced at them then quickly baited two more and started back across the river. I followed him out a short way.
He glanced back over his shoulder saying, "Too deep for you here. Better water for you on down there a way." I stopped waist deep in the water. He passed two of the poles back to me. "Hold these for me."
At the far shore he gingerly waded into the channel, testing his footing. The water again was inches from the top of his waders. He backed away, walked a bit further downstream and tried again. This time he got close enough to the bank to push two poles in quite close together at angles to each other with their lines hanging near a tangle of branches. "If we get one in there, I don't know how I'm going to get him out without getting wet." We both hoped he'd get a chance to try.
He took the other two poles from me and started walking still further downstream and across the river. "Bring the bucket on down a ways. I'll get the poles in a minute." So, I waded back to shore and hefted the bucket. I walked along the shore several steps and put it down. He'd already put the poles in the far bank and was back at shore. He dragged the two bundles of poles out into the shallow water and let them float with the current. As he came parallel with me, he said, "Let's try down a bit further." and kept walking. I picked up the bucket and walked after him. In a few steps I put the bucket down again and wiped my hands on my jeans.
He said, "You're wet already. Come on out here and just let the bucket float with you. It'll save your hands." So I walked out in the water again and let the bucket float next to me. "Just don't let it tip.", he said.
After walking a few dozen yards , he pulled three more poles from the bundle and walked over to me. He quickly baited the hooks. "Put the bucket back on the bank. I think this spot's ok for you." I rushed to get the bucket onto the shore and waded back out to where he stood. The butt ends of the bundles of poles were now in the shallows near shore. They wouldn't float away.
He handed me one of the baited poles and we started across the stream. "You get on this side.", he said positioning me upstream of him. As the water got deeper, my feet kept wanting to float off the bottom. I slowed as I tried to keep my balance and he waited for me. "Grab me if you start to go.", he said. "We're almost there." I realized it was true. The channel was less pronounced here -- almost no drop-off -- and we were nearly to the other side. He pushed one of his poles into the bank. I walked a bit away from him and then tried to push mine in. The bank had more rocks in it here. I couldn't push the pole in. "It doesn't have to be perfect. Try a little farther down. Or try sticking it below the water. Sometimes that's easier." And in a minute I'd pushed the pole into the bank. It was angled more skyward than his were, but he said, "Good spot." and we started back toward shore. I kept looking back, trying to remember which pole was 'mine'.
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