Two carnivores ...
... left the ranch house, de-scented, camouflaged, and carrying a medieval weapon of a crossbow. Walking briskly to our chosen hide, a place of ambush, we set up quickly and got quiet; so quiet, I fell sound asleep while my grandson kept up a lonely vigil for our prey: the white tail deer. Suddenly, a disturbance in the force woke me. Blinking back the sleep, I spotted a spike buck slowly walking in to our setup. Slowly but closer the buck came. My grandson's voice was shaking as he asked me when to shoot. "Be patient, let him come," I whispered. At 13 yards, ever alert, the buck stopped to eat his last meal. Slowly my grandson put his eye to the scope, found his target behind the buck's shoulder and waited until the his head was down. "NOW. SHOOT, I whispered !" THAWAAACK, went the string as the bow discharged, launching the deadly, steel tipped arrow. Instantly, the arrow blasted through the buck's lungs, sending a crimson spray of blood from the gash of a wound. The buck exploded from where he stood, ran to our left, and disappeared in the brush. I unzipped the blind door and saw the buck fall approximately 50 yards away. Later, my grandson and I prayed for the buck and thanked the Lord for the gift of a deer from his sacred herd and for the food He put on our table. It was a good day to hunt and a happy child. 
Attached Files
Comment