Sounds In the Night

I have a few more fishing tales that are funny too, even though they're not actually associated with setting out lines. Here's one that we still laugh at.

It was a hot, humid Illinois night. We had the exhaust fan running full blast pulling air in through our open windows and out through the attic. Air conditioning was a luxury we didn't think we needed or could afford back in those days. My bedroom window faced the backyard with its apple and cherry tree. You could hear the cars on the highway some quarter mile away, but traffic was always light. We were a ways out in the country. At the end of our street, the corn fields began.

It was late at night, probably after 2AM. I was sound asleep but something woke me. I lay awake listening. Then it came, "Knee-deep. Knee-deep. Rib-bit." A frog. Like a big bullfrog. Couldn't be. A creek ran a few blocks from our house (a favorite play spot of ours), but there was no way a frog would make its way to our backyard. I lay there a bit and then it came again: a loud, throaty "Knee-deep". This time it was followed by a cymbal "crash". Then all was quiet. In a few minutes, again "Knee-deep, knee-deep, clang". This time the clang sounded like two pot lids smashing together.

I went to the open window and peered into the backyard. I could see nothing but shadows. I watched to see if I could tell where the sound was coming from. Pretty soon I heard the "Knee-deep, knee-deep, rib-bit, bang" and this time a second metalic "bong" as well. It was definitely coming from the backyard and it sounded close, but I couldn't tell from where. I briefly thought about jumping out the window and going to look around, but it didn't seem worth it. I figured a frog had somehow found its way to the backyard. OK, but what was the metallic banging sound?

Late the next morning (in those days 'double-digits', as my daughter would later say, was definitely the right time to get out of bed) I stumbled out, and my dad was sitting at the kitchen table.

"I heard a frog." I said.

He grinned and said, "I know. I brought 'em home from the river last night. Biggest bullfrogs I ever saw. I just wanted you and your sister to see 'em."

"What did you keep them in?"

"Minnow bucket."

And now the mystery was solved. We went out in back and next to the cherry tree sat one of his metal 'minnie buckets'. He popped the lid's fastener and opened the top. Two huge frogs sat goggle-eyed in the bottom of the bucket.

I laughed to think about them trying to get out last night. A couple warning croaks and then an escape jump. BONG! Little froggy head hitting the top of the bucket. Slight concussion. Shaking of head. Sitting dazed in the bottom of the bucket. Recovery. Croak. Jump. Bong.

Now they looked like they'd finally learned their lesson. They sat staring up at us from the bottom of the bucket.

Dad said he'd released them into the creek near the house later.