Tip Toe Through the Bear Shit

We ducked under the last of the underbrush and stood on the bank of the river. I looked around for wildlife near the water but saw none. The Hammer and I had seen and smelled fresh bear shit on a nearby path just moments before. The Hammer waded into the rising river and drank. It was real pretty, no people, nothing.

Just then, before the cold water had even reached my dog's warm belly, a bald eagle crashed into the water ten feet in front of us. The water splashed white against the bird's black feathers. The bird returned to the sky without a fish.

I have seen birds come out of the water with fish before, ospreys mostly, but never a bald eagle hunting so close.

The eagle swooped over us and gave us the evil eagle eye from fifty feet in the sky. Looked like the bird blamed us for throwing off his concentration at the last second. My dog looked at me. I looked at my dog. We both looked at the eagle. It was in the sky looking at us.