I was extremely happy to catch my first trout and I ate it gladly. I know this was the end of August in 1952 or 1953. I also know well that only a few short days later the holidays ended and I had to go to school in Rut again. I boasted before my class, but my happiness was soon marred. Polde, a boy from the neighboring village of Grant, whose children never went swimming, loudly said that Albin had caught the fish, not I. But Albin jumped to my aid and said that I had indeed caught the fish and he had only helped.
The next year or two I would often 'hunt' brown trout, but with no luck. I tried in the Koritnica, and even more often in Huda grapa and Žventarska grapa. When these latter streams merge, the new stream is named the Koritnica. A road runs the whole length of the Koritnica, then rises from its source to Rut. These two smaller streams didn't even have a track along them, real wilderness. I could fish there without fear.
You see, my Father always warned me that I would get a big fine if a fishing guard or some 'defender' caught me. Back then the police or militia were called the 'people's defence'. He wanted to convince me to stop fishing, because he was scared I would be caught. He always told me that the punishment for poaching under that regime [the Communists] was worse than for murder. Because we worked together a lot on the farm, I knew that in his youth he had not done these things. But I did find out that all three of my older brothers had. Albin even caught a buck whose horns were even mounted on a wall in our house - but not in any rooms that strangers would see.
I finally caught two trout in the August of 1955. In the summer there was a lot of work to do and Mother didn't have time to prepare butter. That took a lot of work. After milking the cows she put the milk into many shallow bowls. This milk stood in the cold store for several days until a thick layer of cream formed. Well, sometimes it was too hot and this milk would turn to 'žmitek', something similar to yoghurt that we would gladly eat with my brother Milko.
After several days, if the milk hadn't curdled, Mother would skim the cream into a butter churn and begin churning. I'm not sure how long it took, maybe an hour, but eventually the cream collapsed into butter. She pressed it into a mould and then flipped the mould. The cuboid of butter had edelweiss ('planika' in Slovenian, lit. 'highland flower') on top and decorations around the sides.
Anyhow, that one August she had no time to make butter, so she sent me to Seitl to buy some.
The Seitl farm was over on the other side of Huda grapa, on the slope of Oblok's Hill (Sl. 'Oblokov hrib'). It was 20 minutes down to the stream, and then the same back up on the other side up to Seitl. Their house belonged to Rut, as well as another house there and five houses further down, along the Koritnica. There was a dairy in Rut and Grant, but it was too far from Seitl, so they made their own cheese, 'skuta' (a type of cottage cheese) and butter.
When I reached Huda grapa I carefully looked upstream. I spotted a fish and when I approached it, I saw where it had hidden under a large stone. Carefully I drew closer and with both hands closed off the opening beneath the stone. I felt the fish and started cheering within myself. I felt it, the fish was there! But I couldn't reach it. I could feel it, but the space was too small for my hand. For a time I didn't know what to do. The stone was about 30 cm high and the water ran over it. Above the stone, still under water, was a gravel bed. I knew I could keep the fish trapped with my left hand and with my right I started scooping away the gravel. It didn't take two long and I had the fish by the gills. I had caught my second brown trout entirely on my own!
Before I went uphill on the other side of the stream, I killed the fish and covered it with gravel on the bank. Soon I reached Seitl, bought the butter and returned. I had time, so I decided to fish a bit more. I hid my bag with the butter, and went back to feeling slowly under one rock after another. Soon I reached the stone where years ago I had caught the first fish. This stone was elongated, an almost perfect rectangle, maybe 20 cm thick. Beneath it was a hole. Again, carefully, with both hands I reached in and found a fish! Quickly I grabbed it and I was so excited to have two fish. Quickly I picked up the first fish, put them together in my bag and hurried back to Rut. All the way I was telling myself, "I've caught two fish!" but I didn't say it in Slovenian. For a year I had been learning German in school, so I repeated to myself over and over, "Ich habe zwei Fische gefangen!"
At Sodi I spotted Stanko, who was three years younger than me, and I showed him my catch. I was very proud. He expertly examined both fish and spotted that one of them had roe. He told me that I shouldn't have killed a female!
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