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FROM THE GREEN RIVER TO THE GREEN HORNET Max Stewart Once upon a time, on the west bank of the Green River, where the lower drain of Stewart's Lake runs into the river, I , a young fourteen-year-old boy, was fishing on that narrow point ofland. My favorite place to catch fish was where the two streams met. There was an abundance of channel catfish to be caught at this spot as well as squawfish, bonytail chub, humpback chub, razorback suckers, carp and sun perch. However, I was very se- lective on this trip, keeping only the catfish. Rising early in the morning was my routine on Saturdays that summer. With mother's permission and weather permit- ting' I greeted the day with great anticipation and excitement and prepared to go fishing. First, I dug a can of angleworms out of the ditchbank. I ate a hasty breakfast, then I was off on my bicycle, traveling east on Highway 40 from my home in Jensen, turning south on the road to Stewart's Lake, then riding along the levee (in those days the lake held seven square miles of water) to where the lower drain exited the lake. I pushed my bicycle along the narrow trail to my fishing spot. The morning sun was still quite low in the east, so I had plenty of time, and the weather was nice. I selected a suitable tamarack limb, trimmed it and cut it to length. Next, I attached my fishing line to the rear of the pole and strung it to the tip, securing it with a couple of half-hitches. The rest of the line I unwound from the floater where it was already attached. I threaded the worm on the bait hook, then cast into the water. Before long, the fun began. The only sound was that of the rushing current of the river. Occasionally the song of a blackbird or a meadowlark added to 9