I was prepared. In about every way I could think of. Even sighted in the British 303 scoped rifle; it was manufactured in 1912, for the First World War.
The campsite was near Swift Creek Reservoir in south central Washington State, near Mount St. Helen's before it popped its’ top. However, late in the year, at that altitude, there was snow and it was cold.
It was just the perfect place to hunt. I had been on a tree planting crew the previous summer and saw a herd of Elk; knew where they fed and watered, had the spot all picked out.
It stayed warm in the cab of the four by. I sipped coffee from a thermos, smoked a half a pack of cigarettes, knowing I was downwind from the blind, behind a stump and a windfall. Deer and Elk are not dumb animals. They have a sense of smell that can detect a human odor and certainly burning tobacco.
The Bull is also a bit crafty. When they come out to feed at first light, the Cows and the Yearling's venture cautiously out from cover to the open areas to graze; the old Bull holds back and watches.
It was time. I quietly buttoned up the truck and silently made my way down a gully and back up to where
it would be about a hundred yard shot from the heavy cover fronting the meadow.
A quick check for the license and tag, patted the blade on my hip and went through the details if and when I made the kill.
One never knows. Some hunting trips you never see a single animal.
The gray dawn brightened enough so the tree line became visible. Low clouds and flurries and trailing wisps of fog sculptured the scene in an eerie way; there was absolutely no sound besides my deep and regular breathing.
Another ten minutes or so and details became clear across the meadow; the third time I thought I saw movement, I did.
A good-sized antler less Cow made a step and stopped, ears twitching, head turning side to side.
Slowly, one by one, the females ventured out. It seemed like the newest one took over guard duty as the ones before lowered their heads and browsed. I counted nine animals in all, three smaller ones among them.
Papa Bull was slow coming out, but I knew he was watching and listening and sniffing the breeze; I could feel him in my bones.
Then…one minute he wasn’t there, the next minute he was; majestic in his size and the rack of antlers that swept back and forth as he surveyed his cows and all around them.
He circled around them. Herding them a little closer together but moving into fresh grazing areas a little at a time.
Then it was time.
There was the shot I was looking for. Broadside, just below and behind the shoulder, a heart shot.
I couldn’t pull the trigger.
He was too beautiful.
A contest entry
- THE MOD SQUAD CHALLENGE by Cyber Artist.
700 points, ended April 7, 2007, 32 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Right on.
A terrific setting of the scene. Living in the area myself, this was like being on the hunt. When the season opens it seems the animals know and are even more aware. Oh, are "elk, bull, deer, cows and yearling" supposed to be capitalized? A great way to end a hunt as well as the story.
beginning: 4, plot: 5, ending: 5.
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Aw. I love the way you show the hunter's respect and admiration towards the animal even before you bring it to an end, though I think you lose it a bit too quickly. I mean, something this man planned for and anticipated for so long...and he makes that decision so abruptly? There's no faltering, no trembling, no doubt, no rethinking, he just decides not to?
I had some difficulty with the terminology, we don't get elk here in hawaii and I don't know too much about guns, but other than that and the above, I enjoyed it ^^ -
As I was reading, I noticed the details were completely balanced ( LIke others have said )and it was easy getting into the story.Though, you have probably heard that many a time ( considering you have A TON of experience in writing... ) and always will. The ending was pretty touching and not the least bit predictable. I enjoyed the literature and nice twist to this short story.
Ana
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I thought your description of the animals and their habit were very realistic and I thought that the ending was well thought out.
Great job
~*Brooke*~ -
I like how the description is balanced, neither violent nor romantic, though there are elements of each hinted at in this piece. The hunter could have just as well made the shot. Ending would have made sense either way--I like that too: options.
One nitpick: the opening paragraph feels disjointed, too staccato if you will. There are a few typos (antler less, its').
Lovely short story. -
Wow, the end totally gave me shivers. I enjoyed this piece a lot..I read the end a few times lol. The best of luck to you in the contest.
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500w/c your power of description is wonderful one of the reasons for a short story challenge is to see how much you can say in such a limited write; and you say a lot. Description brings the reader in to the story and lets them view what you are seeing and that stands out in these stories. I like the humanity of the hunter and the way you take us to the edge of the kill, and pull us back just in time another good write.
Cyberartist
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ahhh elk. I remember them well from living in Banff and Jasper in ALberta, where they roamed the streets.
A nice little story that wraps together very well. There are a few areas that didn't flow as well as the others, and a few typing errors(which are most likely site spacing problems).
Thank you for entering, and good luck in the contest.
I look foreward to reading your other two entries.
beginning: 3, language: 3, plot: 3, ending: 4, dialog: 2, characters: 3.
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