The clear water.
And the old junction beyond them.
For the first time, she understood what he might have meant.
Not that fish could magically restore a farm.
But that their behavior could help reveal where moving water entered an otherwise stagnant channel.
It wouldn't prove the source.
It wouldn't establish water rights.
And it wouldn't eliminate the need for qualified investigation.
But it might show where to look.
And she had almost no money left.
Eliza spent the next six weeks trying to find the old junction without disturbing the ditch.
She began with Samuel's records.
His desk contained notebooks, sketches, soil observations, and water measurements dating back more than twenty years. Some pages were covered with calculations, while others held rough maps drawn on the backs of seed invoices.
The references weren't always consistent.
A concrete culvert had been replaced.
Two old fence posts had disappeared.
And the cotton rows had been realigned several times as equipment and planting practices changed.
But one landmark remained.
An enormous pecan tree near the southern edge of the property.
Samuel had used it as a reference point in many of his sketches.
Eliza measured from the tree, compared old aerial photographs, and plotted the likely path of the original buried water line.
Then she walked the ditch repeatedly.
She noticed that the soil near the fourteenth row remained slightly damp even after several hot days.
A narrow band of grass grew greener along the lower bank.
And after a brief thunderstorm, tiny bubbles appeared near one particular section of the ditch.
The observations weren't enough to prove a buried water source.
Wet soil could have many explanations.
Small bubbles might be trapped air or gas released from disturbed sediment.
And green plants could simply indicate differences in soil composition.
But the location matched Samuel's old sketches closely enough to keep her interested.
She wrote everything down.
Then began looking for a way to observe the water's movement without digging blindly into an unknown buried structure.
The fish idea came from her childhood.
Samuel used to keep a small stock pond near the farmhouse.
On hot summer afternoons, Eliza watched silver minnows gather where fresh water entered through a narrow pipe.
Her father explained that fish often responded to moving, oxygenated water.
The little girl remembered asking whether they could find water anywhere.
Samuel laughed.
"No, sweetheart. They're fish, not detectives."
Then he pointed toward the inlet.
"But they sometimes show you something worth checking."
Eliza hadn't thought about that conversation for years.
Now, sitting at the kitchen table with his old photograph, she wondered whether a small group of fish might help her observe a subtle current in the muddy ditch.
It wasn't a scientifically definitive test.
Fish could respond to temperature, oxygen, shelter, and many other conditions.
Their movement wouldn't prove the existence of a particular pipe.
But if they repeatedly gathered where Samuel suspected water entered, she would have one more reason to ask a qualified specialist to investigate.