Blind Luck, MS> Trent Howell, worry-wart and deer pessimist, had thought about it for a long time. He wanted to invite his best old friend down to the camp to hunt, but couldn’t figure out how to do it without his friend actually getting to hunt. He decided (against his better judgement) to invite him.
After all, the man had been deer hunting for 40 years without killing a deer, the odds were in Trents’ favor. Besides, he knew exactly where to put him. No one had seen a buck off the arrowhead field in three years. There wasn’t a deer within a mile of that stand. Trent, of course, sealed his own fate.
Bruce was relieved that everyone had been so nice to him. They had even put him on
their best stand. He couldn’t wait to finally get that big buck in his sights. He sat there enjoying the quiet morning, time dragged on. After awhile, Bruce started thinking, maybe Trent really didn’t have him on a great stand. He hadn’t even seen a deer all morning.
Could he be that shallow? His reverie was interrupted by the crunch of leaves and the heavy sound of a deer coming straight at him. He got ready. The big nine point ambled into the field right in front of him. BLAM! The rifle recoiled and the deer managed only a few steps and fell. Bruce was the happiest man in the world as he finally laid his hands on the big horns. That Trent sure was a great guy!
Later that night Trent took out his little black book, wrote Bruces’ name in it and put a line through it.
No comments:
Post a Comment