"Ouch!" The fishing line was nearly torn out of my hands. My eyes opened wide as I clutched at the line, thinking that though my reverie had come to an end, my dinner was just about to begin.

"Looks like you've got something big," said the old man as he watched me pull on the line.

"I told you I'd be good to have along," I boasted. "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 theboat, 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.