In winter, the catfish's bowels are clear. Large catfish can weigh as much as one or one and half kilograms. They have slimy glossy yellow bodies covered with a faintly striped tiger-like pattern. During this season they are very sluggish and so easy to catch. The smell of a catfish stew bubbling with a layer of oil on top is delicious. Once, I was staying by myself in an observation station. Every day I would fish with what is called a "flip up" fish hook. The fishing rod of such a hook needs to be made out of a Japanese Tree lilac branch. This is because the wood of Japanese Tree lilac is both strong and elastic. In the past, soldiers used it for making spear and arrow shafts. Once you cast the hook into the water, you push one end of the fishing rod into the ground. Then you bend it into a bow shape and use a forked wooden stick to hold it pressed down. As for bait, you can use small pieces of fish meat, small fish or snails. You have to make sure that the fishing line is strong. If a fish bites the bait, it will wriggle from side to side in an attempt toget free of the hook. This will in turn make the fishing line and rod move and result in the fishing rod slipping from underneath the wooden stick and springing back violently with a twang. The sudden force of energy will force the hook cut firmly through the fish's jaw. Eventually the fish will have tired itself out and will just submissively lie under the water. All you have to do is to prepare the fishing rod one in the evening. You can then have a sound sleep and just come back to retrieve the fishing rod the next morning. If it is heavy, then you are sure to have caught a fish.
That year the winter had just started. I used this fishing method for twenty days in a row and on two out of three days I was able to catch a fish. Oh, something funny happened one day. The fish that got caught on the hook got half eaten by a thief. The otter not only dared to steal some fish, it was also very picky. It only nibbled on the juicy meat on the fish's back. It looks like it was a real expert in fish eating.
Xiangshui creek has its source deep within the Changbai Shan Xiaoqingling sub ridge. At its source it is only a tiny mountain creek. As it makes its way down the mountains, numerous mountain springs and rain water undercurrents from beneath layers of moss feed into it. It gradually looks more and more like a proper mountain creek, as it joins with other small and murky mountain rivulets and underground rivers. In the lowlands it turns into a more than twenty metre wide river that eventually flows into the Yalu river. My secret hideaway was in its upper-middle reaches. Here the river passed through hollow ground which resulted in the forming of a small lake. I gave this lake a name: Warm Lake. The bottom of the lake was probably not far from the underground magma currents that flowed from the still active volcano. This is why the lake would never freeze over. Even in the depth of winter, its surroundings would only be covered by a two foot thick layer of ice. That winter I made my home on the bank of the Warm Lake. My wooden hut stood facing the lake with the remaining three sides surrounded by coniferous forest. Regardless of the season, it would always be very peaceful there. It possessed the beauty of primitive simplicity.
On that night it snowed heavily. When I pushed the door open to look outside in the morning, everything was blanketed with snow. All was silent, so silent that I could almost hear the sound of snowflakes falling on the surface of the lake. The water surface was dark, gloomy and perfectly smooth. It looked like a great slab of blackish green marble. The more one gazed at it, the more solemn it appeared.
I could not help but to feel frightened of this endless silence. I only arrived at the observation station a month ago and for the first time in my life I got a taste of what it felt like to be lonely. I desperately wanted to speak with people, even speaking to animals would do. But such a heavy snowfall was going to seal off the mountains completely and I was not going to see a living person for at least two months. The days that lay ahead of me were going to be very hard. It was this thought that made me listen carefully for any sound. At a time like this, no matter how slight a sound could hear, it would act as an instant antidote to my loneliness.
I waited silently, listening hard, yearning for the grayling that spent the winter under the water surface to come up in search of sustenance. When the grayling came up to the surface, one could often hear a faint splattering sound. It was just a very subtle splashing sound, like the splattering of tiny waves on the water surface. Under normal circumstances I would easily overlook this kind of sound, as the forest is full of all kinds of natural sounds. But now it was a different matter. I longed to hear any sound whatsoever, if it was an animal sound then that would be best … Suddenly, I heard the sound of a splash on the surface of the lake. The splash was not very loud but it was definitely there. I could clearly hear it reaching my ear. At that instant, I was deluded into thinking that the silent lake water had come alive. It suddenly woke up from its slumber and I could clearly hear a crowing sound emanating from within.
It turned out it was real. It was the sound of some big animal leaping out of the water! Since I was a child I have always loved fishing and catching prawns. I was sure that I could not be wrong. The sound was definitely not caused by a fish jumping out of water. When a big fish jumps out of the water, it makes a single crisp splash. When a flock of fish jump simultaneously, the resulting sound is a series of small splashes one after another, as if hailstones are pattering onto the water surface. This one, however, was an expert. It sprung out of the water so neatly as if it was equipped with a spring, and easily landed on the bank.
