Monday, January 2, 2017

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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