A-Hunting We Will Go

From February 7, 2004

Looking at Wilfred’s picture again this morning, and got to work thinking of the hunting trip that he and I made to Forest Hill, back in the fall of '56..

Was in the store one evening and Wilf said "Let’s go hunting
tomorrow", and I said, "Sure, what time do you want to leave and where
will we go?" We agreed to leave in the morning for Forest Hill with a
timely departure that would put us there when it was light enough to see
the sights.

I had had a real bad cold that had settled in my chest, leaving me with
a top of the line case of chronic bronchitis, and was coughing with
every breath I drew.

We arrived at Forest Hill and after taking Wilfs Plymouth in as far as
we could safely go, we got out and started in the woods. I wasn't too
familiar with the area so Wilfred led the way, heading for the barrens
that lie south of the hill, me following along in his wake, hacking and
coughing like an old horse with a bad case of the heaves.

We stopped at the edge of the barren, and I really took to coughing then
because it was time for a smoke. We counted five deer just a-driving her
down the barrens trying to distance themselves from this pulmonary
disaster.

Wilfred looked at  me and said, "We're going to split up." (we weren't
married so far as I knew) I'm goin' up there," indicating with a
sweeping gesture an area that would have taken in a land mass the size
of Texas. "You can go where you want, as long as it is in the opposite
direction, We'll never in this world get close enough  to any deer for a
shot with all that barkin' you're doin'!!"  Good hunting buddy, Eh, 'by?

I turned to the east and travelled along real slow-like wondering where
on earth I would wind up in this strange country; after a bit I came out
on a bull-dozed road. I decided to hang a left and go back out to the
car, my good huntin' buddy having thoroughly deflated my hopes of ever
getting a deer that day.
Walking along the road I looked to my left and up in a hard wood hill
stood a nice doe about forty yards away. Ten seconds later she was mine.
I pulled the carcass down to the road for field dressing when who should
happen along but the late Arnie Hudson. Arnie gave me a hand and we
commenced the long drag to the car.

My good huntin' buddy in the meantime had made safari all over the place
and having seen absolutely nothing, not even a squirrel had gone back to
the car in disgust. He got out to the car and found that the cougher was
a no-show. Thinking that I was lost in the wilderness that he had so
hard heartedly banished me to, he became all het up and started firing
signal shots, never dreaming that the cougher would ever see a deer,
much less kill one.

Arnie and I heard his firing and fired in return. After more slugging we
got my deer to the car, loaded her in the trunk and headed home. The
moral of this story? Don't banish your buddy..........he may get lucky!!

Don