That week, Eiske and Syp cooked meals outside, set up the tent, and went through Syp’s supplies. Eiske asked his parents if they would check on the chicks if he and Syp went fishing. They agreed on the condition that Eiske share his catch.

“I put the charm from Trina in my pocket,” Syp told him as they flew westward. “I wrote down the words. We can use it in our tent tonight.”

When they came to a band of trees, Eiske slowed down. He went back and forth until they found the lake, then searched for a safe place to camp. and fish where the water wasn't frozen over. After a bit, they found a spot. There were stones in a small circle for a fire and a stack of dry wood. Syp erected the tent and then joined Eiske as he gathered more materials for fires. As they searched for tinder and small sticks, Syp searched for edible plants but the snow was too deep to find anything. Eventually, the two decided they had enough wood to cook dinner and have a campfire for a while afterward.

“Do you know how to start a fire?”

Syp ran to get the fire-starting rocks from its backpack. “I can do it,” it said confidently. It took several tries before the spark turned into a flame. It put the rocks down and added fuel to the fire. When it was burning with a good flame, Syp put some bigger pieces on it.

Eiske brought the fishing gear from the hovercraft and tucked the starting unit for it into his pocket. He gave Syp the second starter. “Just in case we get separated. Press this button and one of these lights will turn on. It will lead you back to the hovercraft.” He showed Syp how to put a worm on the hook and the two sat on big pieces of wood. “Hold the line, between your fingers, and when you feel a good pull, give it a yank.” A few minutes later, he said to it, “I think I’ve got a fish on my line. Come and feel this, so you know what it’s like.”

Syp could feel the pressure on the line and Eiske began to reel it in. The pole bent, and Eiske stopped reeling. He began to turn the reel again, and Syp watched as he slowly pulled the fish to the shore. “Look at that!” Eiske was excited. “It's a lake trout. I would say it’s about three kilograms.” He showed Syp how to remove the hook and slid a stringing cord through its mouth.

As he put a fresh worm on his hook, Syp said to him, “Eiske, come check this.” He felt the fishline, “Give it a good yank!” Syp did. “Reel, Syp, reel!” It turned the crank on the reel and slowly brought the fish in. Syp’s pole didn’t bend like his had. Eventually, it pulled a fish out of the water. “It’s a trout. Just big enough to eat. Nice job!” Syp took the hook from its mouth, and it flopped back and forth.

“Eiske! It wants to go back in the water!”

“Don’t let him, Syp. He’s our dinner!”

“Oh, that’s right.” Syp caught it and put it on the stringer like Eiske had.

It wasn’t long before they had six good-sized trout on the stringer. “That’s all we need for dinner,” he said. They brought out the cooking utensils. Eiske showed Syp how to clean the fish. “Seeing the insides doesn’t seem to bother you,” he observed.

“I want to eat it,” Syp said wistfully. “Do you think it’s safe to eat if it’s not cooked?”

“I don’t know. There’s no way to tell. Have you ever eaten anything that’s made you vomit?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what that was.”

“A frog.”

“A cooked frog?”

“No. It was fresh. I pulled it apart. It was delicious. But I got sick afterward.”

“If you want to take the chance of trying it, you can. If you vomit a lot, we’ll go home.”

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Syp didn’t want to go home. It decided to give up the idea of eating fish guts. “I’d really like a worm. I’ll only eat one.”

“Go ahead.”

“I hear people talking.” They listened. Eiske couldn’t hear anything. “They see our fire. One says that they’ve waited long enough to come searching for us.” Eiske wondered why they would say that. “They’re going to ask if you’ll cook the first fish they catch so they can keep fishing.”

“Okay. I’m happy to do that.”

Two men, about fifteen years old, entered the campsite. They carried fishing gear and a tent. “Would you share your camping site and fire with us?”

“Certainly.”

“Your fish smell good. What’d you catch?” One addressed Eiske while the other erected the tent.

“A bunch of trout.”

“Did it take long?”

“Less than an hour.”

“Good! They’re biting, Salar! If we hurry, we can catch our meal before it’s completely dark.” In only a few minutes the men had their lines in the water. They began to pull one trout after another from the lake. There were twelve on the stringer before they stopped. “If you clean these, Sina, I’ll carry the rest of our gear to the tent.”

Salar made several trips to their vehicle before he was finished. While they set up camp, Eiske and Syp ate their fish. “It’s so good!” Syp whispered to Eiske. “Is there enough for second servings for each of us?”

“There is!” Eiske put the rest of their fish on their plates. “Delicious,” he said with his mouth full.

Salar set up two camping chairs and took two alcoholic beverages out of a chilling container. Sina cleaned one fish after another, until he had a big pile. When Sina asked, Eiske put several of the filets he had cut into the pan. “I need a bag, Sina!”

“Are you fishing to take them home?” Eiske asked.

“We are. We come here about once every full moon. My children love fish and fresh turtle.”

“I like the peepers,” Salar said. "But its too cold for them.”

“And then there’s the renda.”

“Renda? Here? I thought that was a salt-water fish,” Eiske looked at Sina curiously.

“There’s one kind that lives here, and they won’t come out of hiding until it’s dark.When its really dark, we’ll fish for the renda.”

“Will we fish in the dark, Eiske?” Syp said softly.

“No. Only experienced fishermen fish in the dark. We’ll fish again tomorrow. If we catch more than we can eat for breakfast and the noon meal, we’ll take it home with us and freeze it.”

Syp was satisfied with this answer, and it looked around. “There’s an owl in a tree over there,” Syp said. “Its eyes are as big as dinner plates.”

“Your fish is ready,” Eiske called to the two men as the sun was going down. They came slowly to the fire.

“Thanks for cooking.”

“You’re welcome.”

As the men ate, they drank one bottle of alcohol after another. They began to ask Eiske and Syp questions about where they lived, what they did, and how often they fished. Syp realized that Eiske didn’t fully trust the two men. It listened closely as Eiske lied about who they were. When they were full, Sina offered to clean the kettle. Eiske told him that it was too hot to handle, and he had a special cleaner for it. “Suit yourself,” Sina shrugged. “Do you have a coffeepot?”

“No. We have a kettle to heat water for tea.”

“Tea?” Sina began to laugh. “How about a Lemkin?”

Eiske knew that this was an alcoholic drink. The men had each drank about six bottles already, and if things turned sour, he needed to have a clear head. “Not tonight, thanks. I’m full of fish,” he laughed. “I might pop if I add anything else to my gut.” Eiske turned to Syp. “Did you find anything when you walked through the forest?”

“There’s cattails over there, but the ground is frozen. I didn't see anything else, there's too much snow. Syp looked at Eiske. He seemed nervous. “What do you usually do at night when you go camping?”

“We tell stories, look at the stars, and watch the dragonflies and lightning bugs. Then we go to bed so that we can get up early and fish some more.”

“It’s way too cold for dragonflies and lightening bugs. How many fish do you want to catch?”

“As many as we can.”

Sina went to get supplies for looking for a different place to fish and Salar disappeared into their tent. When they came back, they went off into the tall grasses at the edge of the lake. Eiske and Syp could hear them exclaim each time they saw something below the ice. “Look!” Salar said loudly, “It’s a big old turtle. Turtle soup, here we come!” There was a grunt as one of them lifted it.

“He’s heavy!”

“I’ll take him to the campsite, and I’ll be right back.

Salar came back to the site carrying a turtle that was nearly thirty centimeters across. He disappeared again into the darkness. As they moved further away from the campsite, their voices became softer.

“Syp, let’s move organize our gear int the tent.” Syp looked at him; Eiske looked worried. They unrolled the sleeping pads and sleeping bags. As they moved their cooking utensils, kettles and food supply, they piled it all at one end. Eiske went to the hovercraft and removed a piece from the engine. It would never start without that part. After locking the top, he came back to the fire. Syp was carrying their fishing gear into the tent. Eiske handed Syp a cup of water and poured one for himself.

“Eiske, I can hear what they’re saying,” Syp whispered.