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. "This fish
will bring in plenty of money. Don't forget," I added, "I get two
percent!"
"I remember."
Hand over hand, I pulled on the line. I was counting my money
even before my catch broke the surface. But when it did, I stopped
my efforts. I had caught a dead man.
"I'm not surprised," said Six-Finger after he helped me haul a
drowned sailor up onto the lip of the boat.
"You're not?" I asked, astonished. "Do you catch dead men on
your line every day?"
His ancient face showed little emotion. "There is an old folk
tale about storms on these waters," he said. "Whenever there's a
storm, you can be sure that a ship has been sucked down into the
whirlpool at the center of the Blood Sea."
I shivered at the thought; in my lonely travels I had seen so
many storms blow across these waves.
"Too bad our fishing expedition had to end like this," I said
sadly, figuring that we would head back to shore with the body.
"Don't be silly," said the old man. And with that, he cut the line
and let the dead man splash back down into the water.
"What are you doing?" I cried.
"The proper place to bury a sailor is at sea," he calmly
explained. "Besides, there is the one fish I've been after all of my
life. Tonight, perhaps, I'll finally catch that creature."
It was only then, as I watched the body float away from the
boat, that I fully realized the old man's desperation. He was tired-
worn out-and he knew he wouldn't have many more chances to
catch his fabled Blood Sea Monster
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