The young hunter stalks his prey, moving silently through the water as he tracks its movements.
He is stealth personified.
He strikes.
And brings up his trophy.
An exoskeleton species of the river variety.
The girls on the riverbank rejoice.
Or something kind of like that.
(The preceding fable was based in historical fact. However, the portrayal of the three-year-old boy as the conquering hunter is myth. While this three-year-old did stalk the waters of Cypress Springs for many an hour, hunting for his prey, it was, in fact, the big kids who were able to snare his quarry. His rejoicing was no less diminished by the actual players in the capture; in his mind, he is still the conquering hero…)





