In the deep woods squirrels barked and chattered.

Frost-loosened crimson leaves came whirling down, settling in a bright blanket that covered the water several feet from the bank, and unfortunate bees that had fallen into the river struggled frantically to gain a footing on them.

Water beetles shot over the surface in small shining parties, and schools of tiny minnows played along the banks.

Once a black ant assassinated an enemy on Dannie's shoe, by creeping up behind it and puncturing its abdomen.
Noon came, and neither of the fishermen spoke or moved from their work.
The lunch Mary had prepared with such care they had forgotten.

A little after noon, Dannie got another strike, deep fishing.