My uncle Glenn and I used to run trotlines above Logansport Louisiana each spring on the Sabine River in East Texas. Back in those days right after Toledo Bend was impounded, that was one wild grown up stretch of river. At high flows it could get downright hazardous. Now my uncle Glen stood 6'6" weighed a trim 250# and was a former football linebacker, scared of no man. However Glen was irrationally afraid of snakes. If a snake was found on land it was a rattler, if found in or near the water it was a cottonmouth, he did not distinguish snakes in any other fashion. The spot we fished on the river was accessed down a twenty mile muddy pulpwood trail, between Carthage and Logansport LA. At the end of the road we accessed a riverbend white sandbank where we would camp for days on end catching channels and flatheads on limblines and trotlines set all along the river. We had been having particularly good luck with two limblines set just above a logjam that almost choked the river at our camp. Normally we baited at evening and ran the lines early the next day, in between making bait the rest of the day by catching bream on worms or in fish traps. We always dragged a sixteen foot Texas Maid jon with a 18HP Evinrude to run lines from.

This particular evening we had set out a bunch of limblines and trotlines along the fast rising river. Then we cleaned and iced the days haul. Our camping spot was directly across from the big logjam, and we could hear our cut hickory pole limblines slap the water if a biggun got on em. We made our fire, lit the Coleman lanterns, sat drinkin pop and eating bologna samwiches, talking about the fish. After we had sat a few minutes, I noticed a water snake in the lantern light poke its head between Uncles feet. I said to Glen, "look down but don't move," he peered down, and honest to Neptune he jumped higher than any NBA dunk specialist. Then he was standin in the pick-up bed in one other leap, for sure an Olympic triple jump medalist couldn't have made that jump !! Well I killed the snake, but Unc was real shook. Glen was the type that would kill YOU or himself getting away from a snake. Anyways he finally settled down some, but drug an icebox out and stood his chair on it before he would sit again. Not long after this eposode, we started hearing big splashes and KaThump, KaPlunk, KaChunk as one of the hickory cut poles was slammin down into the water. Now normally Unc wouldn't go in the boat at nite down there due to ovehanging cottonwood trees that USUALLY held a few snakes. The two poles we had set above the logjam were under such overhanging trees. Nonetheless we slid the boat off the bank, lit up the QBeam 100,000 candlepower spot and motored across. We could see the green cut pole slam the water, surge under, and stay under for a while so we knew we had a big flathead. So I get the spot and unc runs the boat in under a cottonwood after bashing the tree with a push pole to make sure the snakes were gone.

Now if you have ever run trotlines or fished rivers much at night you have observed that when hit with a bright light that fish will startle and jump all over the place. The Sabine is home to Chain Pickeral, and that portion of the Sabine once held a lot of em. They were champions at jumping three feet in the air when hit with a spotlight and just going crazy, jumping all over.

When Unc ran me in under the cottonwood the spot light startled quite a few jackfish (what we called Chain Pickeral.) Uncle couldn't see what was going on well as the jacks sprang from the water in every direction, one of which thumped Uncle SQUARE in the chest when it jumped.

Now already spooked by the former water snake, and thinkin one had come out of the cottonwood over his head and bit him in the chest (the jack was floppin at his feet)and before I could tell him otherwise, I hear a choked gasp then a blood chillin scream, which drowned out what I was tryin to tell him.

Next thing I knew I was swimming out from under the overturned jon !!! The current pushed me into the logjam before I could even get a breath, pulled me under it, I grabbed a log and managed to get my head above water then the partially sunk Jon slammed into me.

I thought my uncle had drowned. I hollered for him five minutes before I heard his voice on the opposite bank and could see him silouetted in the lantern light. I had the jon bow rope in my hand and managed to tie it off to the logjam, walked a ways up stream in the dark then struck out swimming diagonally across the river with the current for the camp light. I made it to shore finding Glenn was white as hogans ghost, layin in the sand moaning he was dying.

Glen I says, "it weren't no snake, "yes it was" he growled "I got the fang marks in my chest and on my leg." Sure enough there were two perfect bleeding round holes spaced about an inch apart, right over his left nipple and one other nasty set of punctures on his calf, but caused by the jackfishes teeth !!! I really think he WOULD have died right then and there from fright if I hadn't been able to convince him it was just a jackfish. Needless to say the night was shot, the boat was mostly sunk , lodged in a log jam by the current and we weren't gonna get to sleep that night. I finally got unc in his hammock, but he was still wide awake at daylight. I managed to get a rope across the river when it got light, tied off to the jon and pulled it out of the logs and across the river with the truck.

My uncle to this day won't go back there and its still a sore subject fourty years later.

It was a big fish too -- the pole was pulled out from the bank after it got light enough to see

Screamin drags all !!!!

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good un!!!

Great story! Writing it out not only refreshes the memory but will help keep it alive many years to come. Some people just flat out hate snakes.
I have caught many by bare hand but after having what I thought was a big black snake coil and strike at me, I am trying to not pick up any more snakes. It definately was a big cottonmouth.

Great story (and you do a heck of good job embellishing it)!!

Good story Mr. Hughes! Reminds me of a few summers in Oklahoma...

Very good would have been nice to see that fish

That was a great story

Thats exactly what makes fishin sooooo much fun,memories ya never forget great story

Good read

that is a very good story!

good story

I can understand his concern of snakes. I too hate snakes and they are all dangerous to me. I would die from the shock if a snake bit me...venom has nothing to do with it. I fished the creeks going into Eufalla in Oklahoma as a kid and ther was no shortage on snakes there then. Last spring I fished a log jam that I got out and walked on many times while slaughtering the crappie and sandies and some cats. About May the growth started on the jam and in about two weeks it was a foot high..and that's when to sh*@ started. They (snakes) would try to get in the boat, fight over any fish thrown onto the pile,try to get the fish when they topped the water and I had one bite my fish before I could get it in. Water snakes are not that aggressive. My last trip was spent fighting off snakes..I hit 4 with the 4' boat oar and could have hit more but I just wanted to keep them out of the boat. Did not go back there after that. Not trying to steal your thunder here just saying that many fear snakes and I am one of them. My hat goes off to all the TOUGH GUYS that have no fear but I ain't one of them. I am not sure I would have survived the night thinking I had been bit...It would have been touch and go. Amusing story but the humor for people like your uncle and myself is just real hard to share.

i laughed till i cried....thanks for that story! makes me think about all the time I spent fishing with my grandpaw, Dad, and uncle Chuck who have all passed on!

One cool story

Thanks for sharing that story.

In my younger days..over 20 years ago now <-(wow that's painful) I spent countless days and nights camped on a muddy river bank fishing out of a 12 ft jon boat outfitted with OARS (yes oars, these are all but extinct now). Limblines and trotlines were the tackle of choice for us kids that were lookin for a monster catfish. We caught some mighty nice flatheads on those lines and we did manage to land some nice channel cats and flatheads on rod and reel from time to time.

I still really enjoy going up little rivers and fishing for channel cats in running water. THe jet boat has replaced the jon boat/oars and getting "riverish" as we used to call it, is not what it used to be. In those days when we would get covered in mud from head to toe walking along muddy banks setting banklines. After that was done we would drink a couple beers, choke down some kinda food from a warm cooler, then pass out in the back of a truck with a blue tarp over us till daylight. In the morning we would put on our cold wet sneakers and jump in the creek's cold morning water. Off we went to check our lines, then we were back cleaning fish, then we would spend the rest of the day trying to get enough bait caught to re bait out lines that night. 2 or 3 days and nights in a row of this madness...WOW....one things for sure.....Im not as tough as I was, when I was 16...

Boy, I wish I coulda documented some of those days and nights with video's like we do at Team Catfish Video. Camping and fishing with my school friends and my brother at the creeks was a way of life for us, it's all we thought about in the late spring and summer.

I could tell you some stories....and maybe someday I'll let some folks know just what kind of river rat actually created the Team Catfish brand.

That story flooded my brain with memories that are too precious to forget. Thanks again for that story, it helped remind me of my youth, and where I came from...