This happened in July of 1996. My buddy Mike and I had been planning this fishing trip for weeks. We wanted to scout out Chequamegon Bay before the big walleye tournament in August, so we figured we'd do some night fishing, see what was biting after dark. We got out there around seven that evening. It was warm, humid. One of those summer nights where the air just sits on you. We set up on the north shore, away from the boat launch, away from everybody. That's where the big ones were supposed to be. Deep water close to shore. Mike had brought his new Coleman lantern, the bright one he'd been bragging about. We got our lines in the water, cracked open some sodas, and just settled in. Perfect night for it. Or so we thought.
Around 8:30, Mike said he had to head back. His wife had called the house earlier and left a message about needing the truck first thing in the morning. He felt bad about it, kept apologizing, but I told him it was fine. I'd fished alone plenty of times. He packed up his gear and drove back to town. Just me after that. The bay, the water, the trees behind me. No moon that night, so it was pitch black except for the lantern. I could hear the water lapping against the rocks, couple of loons calling to each other way out on the bay. I remember thinking how peaceful it was. How quiet. That's what I remember most about the first hour alone. Just this deep, comfortable silence.
Must have been around 10 when I first heard it. This sound coming from the woods behind me. Not loud, but distinct. Like something moving through the underbrush. I figured it was a deer. Lots of deer in that area. But then it stopped. Complete silence for maybe two minutes. Then the sound again, but in a different spot. Maybe thirty yards to my left. Then nothing. Then it was off to my right. That's when I started paying attention. Because deer don't move like that. They don't circle. And this thing was definitely circling. Moving around the perimeter of my camp in this slow, deliberate pattern. I could track it by the sound of branches breaking, leaves crunching. Every few minutes, a little closer.
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