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 Old Jasper Blankenship bought a deer license again
this year, just as he’s done every year since Eisenhower was
President. He sticks nickels and dimes in a jar all year long and
smiles each time he contributes. By Fall, he’s saved up enough for a
deer tag.
Jasper lives full-time out at the diggins with his dog, Arthur, of
course, so he has only to walk about 100 feet from the cabin to do
his hunting. That’s one of the marvels of it.
If he sees a nice buck, he might shoot it. Hey, he enjoys venison
like everyone else, of course. But he might not shoot it. He had two
good shots last Fall and didn’t take either one of them. He’s tried
to justify this inactivity to himself, but has come a cropper each
time.
So off he went once again with his rifle to sit against that one
certain tree, kinda scrooch around in the pine needles until he was
comfortable, and waited.
The squirrel came down a nearby tree and chattered at him for a
while, and then left. The blue jay flew to a branch above him and
looked down. Didn’t stay long, though. [to top of second
column] |
The soft music of the mountains
began along about four in the afternoon, resembling at first just
the breeze in the tops of the aspens, but later taking form into a
melody no composer could ever create.
A legal buck came along just about sundown, but he just waved at it
and watched it bound off. Didn’t want to shoot one on opening day,
anyway. Still five days to go. Maybe tomorrow.
We’ll see.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to
you by The Backpocket Guide to Hunting Elk, Practical Advice from a
Guide and Outfitter, by Slim Randles. Now sold throughAmazon.com.
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