2nd installment Drive - A Memoir
close and only movement will send the
beast into flight. After watching the flag fluttering in the breeze,
the antelope grow accustomed to the movement and conceivably move
closer out of curiosity. Russ and I were excited to see that the flag
seemed to work as the largest group of animals was grazing closer to
our hiding place by the 12 acre alfalfa field.
The bolting herd of antelope,
maybe about fifty head, was a throng of flying bodies and pounding
hooves. For fairly large animals, they ran with true precision. As
the lead animal changed direction, the rest of the herd would shift
in the same direction just like a swarm of birds that shift in
flight, all at the exact same time. It made me think it was magic.
The herd flowed over the ditch at the end of the field in a perfect
wave of fluid life, mocking 'you can't shoot me' in full flight.
“The fence line,” Russ
growled, and he struggled to stand tall in the soft sand. “Shoot
one! If they get past our farm’s fence, they’re no longer ours to
kill; they’ll belong to the fish and game.” Russ was still high
on his adrenalin rush and was a bit wound up. Okay, me too, my
adrenalin rush probably could power me into flight by just flapping
my arms.
“Jeez, it’s hard to pick a
bead on one at this distance. They must be going fifty–miles–an–hour,
I’ll shoot,” I spit out as fast as I could utter realizing I had
only a few more seconds. “I don't want to shoot into the horde and
hope I hit something.” The leaders were already going over the
three barbwire fence; or should I say under the fence because at full
speed the herd split up in a perfect divide with half flowing over
the four foot fence in a body – spreading leap and the remainder
diving to the ground and under the lowest barbwire. Damnedest thing I
ever saw, on a dead run and never touching a wire.
Come on, get your mind in the game,
Casey, I thought to myself. You’re going to mess up your chance and
messing up is not allowed on this farm. I was staring, left eye on
the landscape and right eye through the over–sized peep sight on
the breech of the 270 rifle, and I could actually see a group of
three animals inside the loop of the rear peep sight. I had the
post–ball of the front sight leading slightly past the point of the
front shoulder of the antelope I had chosen.
“Shoot! shoot! They’ll be
over the fence in a second. Shoot!” I could hear Russ barking in
the back recess of my mind. I have to ignore him or drop this gun and
kick his butt, I thought.
Ka–boom! The rifle fired,
jumping up in my hands and kicking the be–jeezus out of me – just
like it
500
more words tomorrow
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