Post by Sasquatch on Dec 2, 2006 19:02:52 GMT -5
Oh! I just DON'T know how to say this, but I just feel that I MUST! I must! If I don’t share this with others, I’ll just never be able to forgive myself. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to go hunting again; Ohhh! It's just awful! Oh!
I got up early this morning and whispered to my partner that I thought I'd go hunting. Although Braun doesn't hunt, he was supportive, as we've discussed this over tea many times. So, I arose from my bed and slipped into my clothes, a perfectly fabulous set of Moleskin Chamois camouflage from Cabela’s in Mossy Oak Break-Up. I just love the feel of that soft fabric against my skin; it’s so unlike that rough cotton or that horrid wool--and the colors of the Mossy Oak are just divine!
I grabbed my Saluki Ibex and caressed it’s sleek, sensuous lines, checked my arrows that Braun gave me for our anniversary (wonderful Fat Boy shafts with yellow and blue fletches!) and loaded all my gear into the Volvo, making sure not to forget my thermos of Earl Grey Breakfast Blend tea, and headed for my hunting area.
I set up in a sensational little glade with a laughing little brook running through it, checked the wind, secluded myself in a blowdown, and waited for the elusive whitetail. Soon enough, my wary prey appeared--Oh!--in the form of a lovely little doe and her early fawn. I could feel the chills up and down my spine as I contemplated the kill; I am a tender fellow, but there is a predatory side to me--and waited for my chance.
She was so beautiful, with the morning sun’s gentle rays basking her tawny hide in a ruddy glow; nibbling at such browse as the scene afforded her. I marveled at her delicate selections and sophisticated palate. As always, I felt a pang of sorrow shoot through my veins--I am such a brute--but the love of the hunt overwhelmed me, and I drew my Ibex. The slender limbs quivered under the tension; the string thrummed with it’s load; my quarry was held in suspension--and ahhh, the estacy of the release! The white shaft with it’s orange flames flicked through the sunlight, the yellow and blue feathers spinning a dance as it flew--and I heard the impact. She was gone--Ohhh!--had I made the shot?
I waited in a perfect dither until I could stand it no more, and then took up her trail. I found her crimson lifeblood spattered on the flora, telling of her last moments; I followed her death march--through trees, through brush, up a hill and down--and then I saw. Oh! Ohhh!The deer lay crumpled at the base of a majestic white oak, her delicate white throat stained with the blood I had shed. I witnessed what I had done; I can hardly bear to relate it: I had killed the fawn!
Ohhh! How could my errant shaft have flown so awry as to extinguish this innocence? How had I destroyed this young one of the wild? I had so tried to master the 45# Saluki--but it proved too strong for me-- I had missed my target, and slain her offspring. My vision blurred, my tears fell like rain--and I slumped to the ground beside the little one, buried my head in it’s soft fur, and sought redemption for this horror. How long I stayed in this remorse I do not know, but I was roused from my sorrow by a firm hand upon my shoulder. It was my companion Braun; his eyes were soft, and his voice gentle.
We did not speak as we buried the tiny deer in the glade where first I witnessed it’s youthful vigor. We covered it well with duff from the forest floor, and lined it’s grave with stones from the brook. Braun gathered moss and I picked some flowers, and together we prayed for forgiveness, and comforted one another.
How can I ever draw an arrow to slay a fellow creature again? Oh! How shall I ever find peace? I cannot rest; I am tormented by my misdeed. Were it not for Braun’s compassion and tenderness, I would lose my mind. It’s just ... terrible! Oh! It’s so awful!
Beware, my fellows, of such carelessness as I have been guilty of. Oh, I don’t want anyone to go through what I have endured these past few days. Pray for me, brothers, and for Braun. We need your support.
Dirk
I got up early this morning and whispered to my partner that I thought I'd go hunting. Although Braun doesn't hunt, he was supportive, as we've discussed this over tea many times. So, I arose from my bed and slipped into my clothes, a perfectly fabulous set of Moleskin Chamois camouflage from Cabela’s in Mossy Oak Break-Up. I just love the feel of that soft fabric against my skin; it’s so unlike that rough cotton or that horrid wool--and the colors of the Mossy Oak are just divine!
I grabbed my Saluki Ibex and caressed it’s sleek, sensuous lines, checked my arrows that Braun gave me for our anniversary (wonderful Fat Boy shafts with yellow and blue fletches!) and loaded all my gear into the Volvo, making sure not to forget my thermos of Earl Grey Breakfast Blend tea, and headed for my hunting area.
I set up in a sensational little glade with a laughing little brook running through it, checked the wind, secluded myself in a blowdown, and waited for the elusive whitetail. Soon enough, my wary prey appeared--Oh!--in the form of a lovely little doe and her early fawn. I could feel the chills up and down my spine as I contemplated the kill; I am a tender fellow, but there is a predatory side to me--and waited for my chance.
She was so beautiful, with the morning sun’s gentle rays basking her tawny hide in a ruddy glow; nibbling at such browse as the scene afforded her. I marveled at her delicate selections and sophisticated palate. As always, I felt a pang of sorrow shoot through my veins--I am such a brute--but the love of the hunt overwhelmed me, and I drew my Ibex. The slender limbs quivered under the tension; the string thrummed with it’s load; my quarry was held in suspension--and ahhh, the estacy of the release! The white shaft with it’s orange flames flicked through the sunlight, the yellow and blue feathers spinning a dance as it flew--and I heard the impact. She was gone--Ohhh!--had I made the shot?
I waited in a perfect dither until I could stand it no more, and then took up her trail. I found her crimson lifeblood spattered on the flora, telling of her last moments; I followed her death march--through trees, through brush, up a hill and down--and then I saw. Oh! Ohhh!The deer lay crumpled at the base of a majestic white oak, her delicate white throat stained with the blood I had shed. I witnessed what I had done; I can hardly bear to relate it: I had killed the fawn!
Ohhh! How could my errant shaft have flown so awry as to extinguish this innocence? How had I destroyed this young one of the wild? I had so tried to master the 45# Saluki--but it proved too strong for me-- I had missed my target, and slain her offspring. My vision blurred, my tears fell like rain--and I slumped to the ground beside the little one, buried my head in it’s soft fur, and sought redemption for this horror. How long I stayed in this remorse I do not know, but I was roused from my sorrow by a firm hand upon my shoulder. It was my companion Braun; his eyes were soft, and his voice gentle.
We did not speak as we buried the tiny deer in the glade where first I witnessed it’s youthful vigor. We covered it well with duff from the forest floor, and lined it’s grave with stones from the brook. Braun gathered moss and I picked some flowers, and together we prayed for forgiveness, and comforted one another.
How can I ever draw an arrow to slay a fellow creature again? Oh! How shall I ever find peace? I cannot rest; I am tormented by my misdeed. Were it not for Braun’s compassion and tenderness, I would lose my mind. It’s just ... terrible! Oh! It’s so awful!
Beware, my fellows, of such carelessness as I have been guilty of. Oh, I don’t want anyone to go through what I have endured these past few days. Pray for me, brothers, and for Braun. We need your support.
Dirk
;D ;D ;D