That huge buck had been his pride and joy for more
than 30 years. But Bob put it back in his office, behind the
kitchen. The spot of honor over the fireplace now belongs to a young
forked-horn buck, the one he took last year on the other side of the
hayfield. It’s the kind of buck you expect to get for your first
buck, and not really the kind you honor like that after a lifetime
spent hunting in the autumn woods.
When he was asked, Bob just said it was a special buck, and he
smiled.
But you know there’s always more to a story than that.
On that special day a year earlier … Bob heard the deer before he
saw him, and he got ready. He looked to the sound of the deer and
checked what was on the other side of the animal. A large dirt bank.
Good. That’s safe enough. Can’t have that old .45-70 slug sailing
around the country.
Bob felt the breeze coming right to his face, slightly chilling his
nose, and carrying with it the promise of a crisp fall later on.
These days still held some late summer heat. The wind was right, and
he wore dull clothing, he had a clear shot with a safe backdrop.
There was nothing to do now but wait. [to top of second
column] |
Then the little forked-horn
buck stepped out. It would never replace the huge buck Bob took
years back, but it was a good eating deer and the situation was
right, so he aimed carefully and shot.
The sound of the massive
cartridge going off started the snake at Bob’s feet rattling. Bob
jumped back out of danger and finished the snake. Another step
forward … just one more step and life would’ve changed forever.
The taxidermist was surprised when Bob told him he wanted a really
nice mount of what was, to all other eyes, a fairly routine meat
deer. But he promised to give the mount the full treatment.
It hangs over the fireplace now.
When other outdoorsmen ask him about that deer, Bob just says it is
a special buck, and he smiles.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by Dogsled: A True Tale of the North, available in an
updated version at Amazon.com.
|