I yell some more and whistle. Finally, someone yells back. Its Chris, but he is alone. The others are not far ahead. Slowing down, I take stock of my surroundings.
Several streams run through the area.
Where the remnants of a creek pass under a tiny foot bridge, I see a pool of water. Down I go again, wading through the middle of the stream and wielding my hand net. I don't know what kinds. We'll have plenty of time to worry about identifications on the Delfin later. Now is the time to fish.