The cool autumn wind was tugging gently at our skin as we walked. The old railway bed, that we followed, wound its way quietly along the side of the mountain, making a good path for many hikers. I was thankful that this time of the year the people were gone, feeling a lot safer knowing there were not as many people in the woods as in other seasons. I could see thin layers of ice on the puddles from yesterdays rain. The ground crunched under my weight as the frosts had hardened it. I watched the ground for any sign of big game that may have crossed or followed the trail.
The sun was still low in the morning sky, filtering down through leaves that were already wearing their autumn colors. In the distance I could hear the roar of the mighty river that followed the old tracks, both parts of the history of the area. My gun laid cradled across my arms, the barrel aimed harmlessly at the ground. My ears paid attention to every sound that was around, filtering out the ones that were meaningless to me this day. Gradually we made our way up the side of the mountain along the path, looking and waiting for our chance to score a big game kill.
The season had opened a week before but work had delayed my father and me getting out to my favorite spot. Now we had the day to ourselves and the two of us, my father and myself, were spending precious time together. I heard the snapping of a branch off to the side of the trail and we stopped, watching and waiting to see if there would be more. Seconds passed into minutes as my heart raced in anticipation. Finally, with a sigh of disappointment, we started on as no other movement was heard. I had seen many signs of game when I had walked the trail throughout the summer. Now however it was like they knew they were hunted and would make it as hard as possible for us and the hunters.
We walked up over a knoll and started down the other side, just as a large buck jumped out into the trail ahead of us. I was not sure if we had startled him or he had startled us but there we stood looking at each other. I slowly raised my rifle to my shoulder as I aimed down the barrel, making sure the sights were pointing at the perfect spot. I had always prided myself on accuracy and knew that if I was not totally sure that I had a killing shot I would let the animal live for another day. I placed the crosshairs of the scope right behind his front leg, knowing he would be sure to die from wound in that area.
I waited for my breath to normalize and my heart to stop racing as I reached with my finger and removed the safety that I always used when walking. I had been taught the dangers of a weapon, what it meant to have one in your arms, and the damage it could cause if an accident happened. One thing I took serious was weapons could and did kill, not only game and for food but people as well. Just as I heard the safety click ther buck bolted into the woods as if warned of the impending danger that he faced. I watched him run, his bright white tail bouncing up and down as he leaped over downed trees. I marveled at how graceful he looked as he picked his way through the trees and up the side of the hill.
We walked up to where the deer had stood and the massive hoof prints told me that this was deffinitely a trophy deer. I looked through the woods in the direction he had gone, hoping I would see soem sign of him. My eyes slowly scoured the vegetation but there was no sign of the large buck. I put the safety back on and we turned to continue walking. We walked along in silence as I knew my father was listening toi the sounds around him, hoping to pick up a distinct sound that sperated itself from the others. Down into another gulley we moved, watching our step as we went as the ground was soft and many times rocks were hidden just under the surface. One false step and we would go sliding down the hill like kids sliding in the winter on fresh fallen snow.
The sun was up and it was now well into the morning as we rounded a bend and there on the trail ahead of us stood that same buck, I was sure of it. This time I thought we had come up pn him and he had no idea that we were even in the area. He dropped his head and lazily drank from a small brook that he was standing beside. As he drank I slowly raised my rifle to my shoulder and reeleased the safety, readying for a shot. I took careful aim, waiitng for him to stand erect once again, ready for a killing shot into his chest. Suddenly I heard a snapping of branches and the buck lifted his head. I knew now was the time and I let my finger squeeze against the cold steel of the trigger.
The loud retport of the rifle firing filled the air and I watched and waited for the bullet to impact its target. My heart raced as it seemed like it took an eternity for the bullet to hit. I saw the buck jump and then fall down, knowing my shot had been true and accurate. We stood there watching and waiting before approaching the deer. Finally we stood over him admiring the size and the rack that was his crown. I looked at my father who was standing there with a big smile on my face. My first kill of my life and the knowledge that it was something that my father and I would be able share forever made it even more important. We soon had field dressed the deer and were then pulling it back up the small knoll and back towards our house. The width of the railway bed and the people that had traveled along it had kept the vegetation from getting a hold and growing over it.
I pulled and tugged to get up over every rise in the trail and finally I could see that we were almost there. I saw my brothers coming towards us now with all terrain vehicles that we could use to load up the deer and ride back to the house on. This hunting trip was special as it was the last trip that my father and I would ever make together. Time never fit right for us to get together again. I still have the pictures that I turn to every once in a while and relive that day in my memories. Now that my father is gone and I can no longer listen to the hunting stories he would tell I know that he was surely proud of me on that day.
(C) Tall Mountain Dreamer August 23, 2007
