Hunting story but not deer

The Hide


As I sat in my hide, I wondered at the source of the sweat running down the back of my shirt. Was it from the merciless sun beating down from the cloudless blue sky, or was it apprehension caused by the words of the guide regarding my quarry? They are pugnacious and can be down right vicious when wounded or cornered.
I tried to remain focused as I sat waiting, knowing from my research that I would only get a brief glimpse of my quarry and I would need to be ready if I was going to get a shot. Constantly surveying the empty landscape was taking its toll and my mind would wander to all sorts of mundane topics that were merely distractions to the purpose which had led me here. Each time I would soon realize what had happened and snap my attention back to the task at hand. As I swept my gaze around me, something niggled at my subconscious. One sweep, two, and a third, before it began to dawn on me that something out there had changed! Slowly I swept my gaze across the sea of grass, studying each detail until I identified that which had piqued my interest. It soon became apparent that there was a new color out on the grass.
My pulse quickened as the amount of sweat increased as I focused on this new feature. The preparatory thoughts went through my mind as it began to become clear that a shot might soon be imminent. Weapon loaded? Weapon cocked? Safety position? Clear background? Is everything ready and in order? There’s nothing to do now except concentrate on that one spot and wait for the quarry to show itself.
THERE! A quick movement on the left side of that spot. And just as quickly nothing. But that’s the way it starts. Showing itself briefly then disappearing just as fast. He’ll show himself again in just a moment. There! Movement and some grey. And gone once more. I slowly bring the rifle up, this next showing will most probably be the last. He’ll be up longer this time, but only just long enough for the shot if I’m already on the spot where he will appear. Waiting and waiting, I’ve been waiting for so long for this moment. The final moment where it will either all pay off and make the heat the bugs worthwhile, or will the excitement get to me and I’ll rush the shot and blow it and have to suffer the humiliation of a missed opportunity? From somewhere deep in the primordial core I feel the moment. I haven’t seen my quarry this time, but I know he is going to appear right there, and right now. I align the sights and start the trigger squeeze, and just like that there is his head right above the front sight. The last bit of pressure on the trigger and the rifle spits. The 22cal pellet flies at nearly 1000fps and hits the gopher right in the head.
One less hole digging pest in the yard.

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The story you just read is a combination of fact and fiction, I did sit in my garage and sweat one afternoon......two years ago. I never got to fire a shot. The gopher in the picture was caught in a trap, sort of like hunting behind a high fence. The rest.....that's close enough to the truth, at least to get published in a slick magazine anyway.

I hope you enjoyed it.


Larry