In Darkest Depths by David Thompson

shown up. Swans were conspicuous by their grace and beauty. A flock of Canadian geese were sticking close together. A killdeer had waded a short way out from shore and was giving itself a bath.
    Shakespeare smiled. God, how he loved the wilderness. He could never live anywhere else, not once he had supped at the feast of nature’s table and tasted of nature’s many delights.
    So many feathered fowl were cavorting about that Shakespeare could not make up his mind which to watch. The mallards were closer to shore than they had been the night before, and he suspected that if the thing in lake came out of the deep to partake of its breakfast, it would do so farther out.
    A group of green-winged teal, with their cinnamon-red heads and rainbow-hued plumage, seemed as likely as any others, and were near the area where the male mallard had disappeared the night before. Shakespeare counted twelve, six males and six females, floating serenely.

    The rising sun lent a golden glow to the lake. The light became so bright that Shakespeare had to squint against the glare. He saw the teal bob up and down on the waves, then realized, with a start of surprise, that there was no wind to speak of and the lake was virtually undisturbed. There should not be any waves.
    That was when he saw it.
    Something —it could well have been a giant mouth—came up out of the water and in the blink of an eye closed on one of the male teal. Before the bird could so much as lift a wing, it was swallowed whole. The rest of the teal took immediate panicked wing.
    His body taut, Shakespeare raked the spot for further sign, but the thing did not reappear. After a while he stopped and leaned back with a smile. “So. Our water devil likes water fowl. Interesting.”
    At last Shakespeare had a tidbit of information he could use. The question was, how to use it best? He had an idea, but to put it into effect he would need Waku’s canoe.
    He watched the lake for another half an hour, then went down the stairs and around the cabin to the front door. The aromas that greeted him as he opened the door caused his belly to growl. “Good morning, one I love,” he said cheerfully as he entered.
    Blue Water Woman was fixing eggs with strips of fried venison and toast. She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing. “What is so good about it?”
    Shakespeare sank into his chair and stretched his legs. “Can’t a man say good morning to the other half of his heart without her being suspicious?”

    â€œI know that tone and that look,” Blue Water Woman said. “You are up to something.”
    â€œPerish forbid,” Shakespeare said. “I live but to please you and wait on your every whim.”
    â€œWhat is the white expression?” Blue Water Woman pretended to try and remember. Suddenly she rounded on him, shaking a large wooden spoon. “You are full of it.”
    â€œSuch language, madam,” Shakespeare declared. “I am shocked.”
    â€œWhat new silliness have you cooked up?”
    Shakespeare sniffed and quoted, “Were I like thee, I would throw myself away.”
    â€œWere I like you, I would need a keeper,” Blue Water Woman held her own.
    â€œSay what you will. I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good.”
    â€œSo you are up to something,” Blue Water Woman said. “And I think I know what it is.”
    â€œI say thee, ha,” Shakespeare said smugly.
    â€œI was talking to Tihikanima yesterday. She says you paid her husband a visit.”
    â€œUh-oh.”
    â€œStrange that you never mentioned it to me. I asked her what you and Waku talked about and she said that Waku would not tell her.”
    â€œGood for him!” Shakespeare declared. “A man with backbone is worth his weight in wildcats.”
    â€œWaku also said that none of them were to use their canoe unless they checked with him first, since you might have need of it on short