Bartholomew's Tale

Water cascaded over the cliff's edge. The drop was not a particularly lengthy one, but the falling water still managed to thunder as it met the lake below. At the bottom of the waterfall, the water looked as though it was frothing, due to the force with which it had fallen. The occasional rock poked its head out of the lake's surface, although the spray from the waterfall never allowed it to dry, no matter how hot the day might have been.

Back up on the cliff, the banks of the river were grassy and dotted with small, colourful flowers. Yellow, white and purple wild flowers speckled the banks, swaying slightly in the afternoon's lazy breeze. A little way back from the edge of the riverbank was a forest, a massive congregation of tightly packed pine trees. The breeze caused their scent to hang in the air.

Slowly, as lazy as the breeze, a grizzly bear plodded out of the forest's concealment. The bear's name was Bartholomew. His fur was a chestnut brown colour and he walked with his mouth slightly open, his tongue dangling out on the right-hand side.

Bartholomew had just woken up from a very pleasant nap. He wasn't entirely sure about what had woken him; his rumbling stomach or the thundering waterfall. To Bartholomew, the sound of running water meant fish, which meant food, which meant his stomach would stop rumbling. So, with his day's agenda settled upon, he had made his way to the waterfall.

Climbing onto a rock that was perched on the edge of the riverbank, Bartholomew sat down and watched the water as it sped towards the waterfall's precipice. He had never caught a fish from this end of the river before. Lying down, he rested his head on his paws and watched the water, keeping an eye out for fish that might swim by.

A short while passed, but Bartholomew saw no fish. His stomach growled again, reminding him that he still hadn't eaten. The water is too fast, he thought to himself. The fish would never overpower the current.

With a resigned sigh, Bartholomew jumped down from his rocky perch and followed the riverbank upstream. If the fish were unable to get to him, he would get to the fish. As he walked, the roar of the waterfall became quieter and quieter. Eventually, it turned into nothing more than a relentless hum.