I found that Darr had let the word slip to Lynch, but he couldn't remember who told him originally. When a tackle-shop operator can sell hogback at ninety cents a strip, it's understandable that minds will go blank. It is mounted with one hook, wiggles like an eel, and instead of being fished like an ordinary artificial, the angler casts and retrieves until a strike is felt. Then he lets his line go slack while the fish chews and swallows the strip. Brother Darr concluded by saying that the bait was so murderous it had to be kept a secret.
Orange Lake is in northcentral Florida.
It's about sixteen miles long, or 14,000 acres of turbid water full of floating plant islands, depending on which way you measure a lake. The sandy clay and limestone bottom is covered with layers of silt and plant detritus, a composition that spells big bass in Willie's country. We used to have a guide there by the name of Sweet Richard, who was a tongue-tied Lothario but a real talker with the surface plug. His mute wisdom was in knowing that endurance is everything. But stubborn dignity was no match for the McKoosh method of skittering a pork chunk, and that's the way Willie elected to pin my ears back that morning.