by Yarnspinner

The night was very quiet, as it usually is when fog blankets the swamp, with only the thin, scratchy calls of the tree frogs and locusts. Rene poled the small punt through the dark waters and watched for possible hazards which could materialize out of the mists without warning. These waters were somewhat stagnant and overhung by the massive moss-hung cypress trees. He wasn't completely familiar with this area, but the combination of fog, moonlight, and the lantern in the front of the boat would have made navigating treacherous no matter where they were. Capsizing against an hazard would force a swim to shore. In the daylight, the swim would be child's play, but in the dark with a fog and no reference point, it could be deadly.

Forward, stretching out over the prow of the little boat, lay Frank. The tiny pinpoints of light reflected back from the lantern would reveal the location of the bullfrogs that the two friends were hunting. Frog gig in hand and ready to give a mumbled indication of sighting their quarry, Frank kept his eyes glued to the far edge of the lantern light.

"Rene. D'ere's one ovah on da right. Ya see 'im?" Frank's thick bayou drawl barely over a whisper, he didn't move a muscle while waiting for his friend to reply.

"Oui, mon ami. You gonna git 'im, or want me ta do it?" Rene's accent betrayed his Cajun heritage.

"I'll take 'im. Just hol' da boat steady." Frank rose to a kneel on the flat bottom of the boat and, with a practiced jab, skewered the large frog and pulled it back to the boat. "Dat makes almos' a whole bag fo' us t'night. You think fifteen apiece is 'nough or should we git s'more?"

Rene began turning the punt back the way they had come. "Fifteen, c'est bon! Should be plenty 'nless yore gut gits more than eets fair share!" The two men chuckled and joked a bit with each other as they guided their boat back to the landing just down from their shanty.

They had been partners there since Frank dropped out of school and ran away from home some eight years before. They trapped. They fished. They hunted. They survived deep in the swamp away from civilization. One or the other of them would occasionally take a guide job to lead some of the "outsiders" on outings and fishing trips in the swamp. Once they had taken a job together, but discovered that, while they could live together working together would never work. The trip had ended in a disastrous argument which culminated in Rene having a blackened eye, Frank losing a tooth, and their disgusted clients demanding their money back.

"Ze fog eez getting thicker. Aim ze light lower." Rene scanned ahead as the fog bank seemed to roll toward them. "Thees ees a strange night, mon ami."

"Ya think so, too, Rene? Kinda creepy the way the critters all started clammin' up."

"Oui. I don' like zeese. Can you see anyzeeng ahead?" Rene stopped poling and let the punt glide over the black liquid surface and into the thicker fog.

"Dayum! Never seen it dis thick 'afore, Rene. I can't see more'n a few feet ahead. Let's take it easy, ok? Wouldn't want ta git lost in here. Don't relish tha thought of spending all night wandrin' through de bayous." Rene quietly nodded from the rear of the boat.

They slowly moved through the fog-enshrouded swamp for a long time. At first the few landmarks they could make out were familiar, but these gradually faded behind them to be replaced by those that neither could identify.

"Franc, I theenk we are lost." Rene was pleased, but slightly surprised that his voice did not waver when he spoke. Getting lost in the swamp was a serious problem, especially at night.

"Yep. We should prob'ly go ashore and just make camp for the night, don't ya think?"

Rene nodded. "Oui. We are lost enough without getting more lost."

"Ok. Let's git t'over t'tha left bank. 'while 'go it looked firm 'nough."

Rene angled the path of the boat to the left, keeping a close eye out for limbs and other dangers in the water. It wouldn't do to get wet now with no dry clothes within easy reach and no prospect of a fire.

"What in hayell's that, Rene?" The question was spoken in a quavering whisper.

Frank was looking down the bayou in the direction they had just been headed. Up ahead, on the left bank, there was an eerie green light glowing in the fog. Almost like a living thing, the light seemed to send out tendrils of itself out into the fog just above the water as if stretching its grasp to take hold of something on the water.

"Ya think its a haint?" The fear was evident in Frank's voice.

"Mon Dieu, I don't know."

Rene didn't realize that he had begun to pole harder for shore when he first saw the green phantasm on the water, so the scraping of their hull on a submerged cypress knee came as a surprise. Both men yelled in surprise as the boat tipped over, dumping them both into the water along with their lantern.

Rene came up sputtering and spitting the rank water. Luckily they were close to the bank and the water was only waist deep. "Franc! Franc, where are you!" His voice seemed to die in the fog and against the ancient trees along the bank. He couldn't see anything in the dark and felt around in all directions trying to find anything from the boat or from his friend. His hand felt something near him. Heavy and wrapped in wet cotton cloth.
Frank!

"Franc!" Rene pulled his unconscious friend's head above the water. "Franc! Are you alright?" Hearing no response, he pulled Frank toward the bank and onto the dry ground.

"Franc! Wake up!" Rene slapped Frank's face sharply to revive him.

"Wha?! What da hayell happened?" Frank came around slowly to consciousness. "Where ayam I?"

"Mon ami, we are lost in ze swamp and ze boat turned over and you were hit on ze head, I believe." Rene saw that his friend would be alright now and was beginning to feel a little less frantic. He looked up and saw the glowing green fog again. He froze.

"Dayum, ma head hurts!" Frank sat up slowly and rubbed the back of his head. "Thanks for pulling me outta there, Rene. 't's a wonder I weren't drownd't." Frank saw the glow again, too. "Rene, its still there. Wha' is it?"

"Je ne sais qua, but I will go and see. You stay here, ok?" Rene began to rise.

"No, I'll go with …" Frank groaned as he started to rise and his head felt like it was about to split apart like a dropped pumpkin.

"Ok," he winced, "you go, but don' be long, y'hear!"

Frank looked up at Rene and watched him nod in the pale, ghostly glow. Rene slowly turned and quietly made his way through the underbrush down the bank toward the source of the otherworldly light.

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