The Apparition II

The_Wraith · Apr 8, 2004

For longer than I care to remember I've hunted these hills, sometimes with family, sometimes without but always I've felt the presence of the ones who came before. Sometimes when I'm alone at night I hear noises in the dark that don't belong, a footfall that's not from an animal, a murmur on the breeze that is just beyond comprehension and once when I was far back in the hills by myself the wind brought to my ears chanting and singing where there should be none. I've seen tracks in the dirt but they weren't from a hunters boots, they looked more like moccasin tracks but who wears moccasins' nowadays?? I wonder??

People think I'm crazy to come here alone, especially after the stories I've told but here I am, alone again, it's a situation that I find myself in more and more as friends move away and family grow old and weary, not really interested in sleeping on the hard ground and getting up when it's still dark out. It was here several years ago that I met the aparition for the first time, a heavy snowfall had blanketed the earth and for many days he was a ghost who haunted my sleep, never allowing me to rest completely because our paths were destined to become one and he had to prepare me for our meeting.

Early into that hunt we had met, briefly though it was and from then on I had to have him, no other would do and I knew he would be mine. Late into the hunt we met again but this time it was different, the sun shown brightly even though no warmth came from it and with the crack of my rifle he was mine, no longer a ghost who haunted me, he was real and still lives to this day on my wall, in my photos and most of all in me. Bloodbrothers.

This hunt was slightly different in that it was to be my last one here, an opportunity had come to me in another state that I could not pass up and even though I could always come here again I knew deep down that this was to be the last hunt...

elkslayer54 · Apr 8, 2004

Great story, Keep em comming!

FEAR NOT FOR I AM WITH YOU! Walk soft and carry a 300 RUM,

kingfish · Apr 9, 2004

Thank you!!!!. We needed that. More please.

alwayzbhuntin · Apr 9, 2004

you sure have a way of telling things.....that was great, I think you should write more!!! You are able to express what I can't put in words...great job.

The_Wraith · Apr 9, 2004

...Is it possible to savor something so completely that the thought of it never leaves you? Can you ingrain a feeling, an emotion so deeply that 20 years from now you can still recall it as if it had just happened? I believe so and I also believe that if you open your heart and mind to something all things are possible. So here I am again, trying to take in as much as humanly possible, earlier I passed the corral where we used to camp in bygone days, a place where I had run the hills with my cousin and my red ryder bb gun. I can see the camp full of old jeeps, antiques really that were our transportation to the hinterlands, a big campfire with many people talking and laughing, discussing the days happenings and tomorrows dreams. All that remains of the corral now are a few charred stones and a railroad spike that was sunk deep into a red shank bush and is now a part of the bush itself. Farther down the road I passed where I shot my first quail and still farther the canyon where I helped drag out a buck that my uncle had shot. To my right was a camp that we had used a few times many years ago and now all that was left was an old ring of rocks and a couple of broken tent poles. Nearing the end of my trip to where I would camp I passed what we called Mitchell's camp where many, many years ago hunters came to chase tall racked mule deer and all that remained now was a collapsed frame to a cabin, a few peices of an old box spring and a blackened ring of stones. It occurrred to me then that when all are gone and nothing remains of the past but memories the blackened stones will still be there telling someone in the future that someone from the past had stayed here, spent time here and perhaps he'll wonder who they were, what they did and where they went...

kingfish · Apr 10, 2004

more.

alwayzbhuntin · Apr 10, 2004

more more more!!!!!!

The_Wraith · Apr 11, 2004

...Pulling into my camp in the growing dusk I glance towards Beauty and a shadow flitting through the brush catches my eye, unsure of what it is, my binoculars revealing nothing to me I turn to the task at hand, getting camp set up for the week to come. The tent goes up quickly, stove and lantern both get lit and a fire throws out soothing soft light, looking like a misplaced and lonely star in the dark of night. Without anyone for company the night is rather quiet, no talking except to myself and that is never more than a whisper because I feel like I would disturb the darkness if I spoke to loud. By the fires light I sit and remember past times, past hunts and people who are no longer here. Out of the corner of my eye I see the shadow of an uncle long daparted sitting next to me and as I turn to speak to him the shadow dissapears and is replaced with nothing but air. Out in the night a bird wails it's lonesome notes to whomever is listening, neither caring nor looking for an answer, content to just hear it's own voice. A pack of coyotes on a distant ridge yip and cry for sometime, perhaps their celebrating a fresh meal, perhaps their scolding one another for letting that meal get away, all I know is the message I get from it and that is this, that without wild lands for me to roam, without coyotes yipping in the night or lonesome birds crying in the dark I would be less of a man for never knowing it. My mind returns from wandering and as I stare into the softly glowing fire I hear a noise in the dark but what it is I can't say. It's unlike any noise I've heard before, not quite talking, not quite singing but whatever it is it's not a natural sound. The breeze stirs the grasses softly, a rustling sound that is calming yet energizing all at the same time. Another rustling noise I hear but this is more like someone walking on soft feet through the grass rather than the wind, again I hear the unknown language spoken on the night air and at first I think it's the wind but then I realize that the breeze has stilled and that just beyond the light from the fire there are shadows dancing, shadows that don't belong and the noise seems to be coming from that direction, a noise that is faintly clearer now yet still unknown. I feel drawn to the shadows, feel drawn to speak with them even though I know this is foolish and silly...