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The Terrible, Terrible Game

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The Terrible, Terrible Game

Old 03-12-2003, 09:48 AM
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Default The Terrible, Terrible Game

As the terrible, terrible game began,
The creature of the forest to run he began.
It all began with a twang of my arrow,
Which fell upon this frightened young buck.

As he tripped and stumbled through the weeds,
Being mortally wounded he began to lose speed.
The arrow was stuck, lanced in his side,
My heart filled with joy being near to my prize.

As I floated through the forest, soundlessly like fog,
I heard nothing but the croaking from large young frogs.
The whisper of willows sounded soft and calm;
No sight of Gods' creature was to be seen or heard.

Dark drifting near gave way to the sounds of death,
As I walked nearer the sound of an animal loosing it' s breath.
Eyes burning brightly, slowly I stalked seeking my prey,
Cold as ice, his eyes were frosted,
Eyes seeking eyes, they locked for one final time.

I let loose on my weapon, another twang through the air,
This arrow found it' s death mark, his misery and pain will end here.
Another long and fruitful year will pass once more,
Before we begin the terrible, terrible game again.

This was a ballad I wrote for an english class in High School. My first Whitetail with a bow was a terible and wonderful moment as teenager, because my rifle hunts had always led me to a kill. But when I came upon this buck, he screamed in fear on the ground until I shot him again. It' s a part of the hunt a young kid is never prepared for if he really cares for the hunt. The whole thing lasted from shot to kill lasted 2 mins. But it felt like an eternity.
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Old 03-12-2003, 10:20 AM
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Old 03-12-2003, 10:51 AM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

Very nice piece. I have been in similar situations and it gets to you when your eyes lock with theirs and you can see and feel their fear. For me at least, I am no longer a hunter at that point and have an unpleasant job that must be finished for the sake of the animal.
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Old 03-12-2003, 04:18 PM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

Great information for the anti' s..........that we, as hunters say the animal is scared and suffering. Remember, they read these sites.
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Old 03-12-2003, 06:43 PM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

great poem....i would hate to see that.....this year i only got a lung and a shoulder bone of my buck...he made it 20yds with its back legs..i remember it laying on its head and running...and then when i got there he was all bedded up and looked at me....i felt so bad like i did something wrong...but i quickly though of what to do...before blasting him with my rifle i told dad to take him with his 357...a shot to the back of the neck ended him..then came the happiness....if the buck would have screamed would feel diffrently and maybe stopped hunting....i couldnt imagine that....next time i will make sure i line my shot up better...still a good kill shot but i dont want to see that....just the buck lifting its head made me sick for a minute.....good poem....thanx for sharing
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Old 03-13-2003, 06:42 AM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

BHM, to say otherwise would be lying. Unfortunately, in hunting, just like everything else, there are no absolutes, and every kill is not going to be clean and efficient. We as hunters have to do our best to make those instances as few as possible but they will still occur. Look at it this way though, those animals may be scared and/or hurt for a few seconds until the hunter finishes the job. How long does an animal hit by a car or starving suffer for?
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Old 03-13-2003, 07:15 AM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

This year was the first for me to lock eyes with my buck before the ku-de-gras. It was a tough experience to say the least.
May all your kills be swift and painless.
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Old 03-13-2003, 09:57 AM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

Great poem, thanks for sharing it. You are right about the personal pain and guilt you feel when the first shot is not the clean perfect shot you wanted to the the job quickly and humanely, you want to finish the job as quickly as possible, no real hunter wants his prey to suffer.
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Old 03-14-2003, 08:43 AM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

Hunting is ALL about emotions and feelings and how we distinguish these feelings reflects on how our children will hunt. I' ve given up many hunting partners that were unethical. I know anti read these columns but if you never see the whole event unfold from beginning to end you' ll never understand the hunt. My best friends father in high school taught him to blow animals away for food and to stretch the rules. My father took me to my first kill and drew a cross on my forehead with its blood told me the spirit of this animal now resides in me an I must respect it. [&o]
My son will learn this way. Thanks for all the feedback on the poem.
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Old 03-14-2003, 06:02 PM
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Default RE: The Terrible, Terrible Game

Bighorned Elk, thanks for the poetry.

For being so young when you penned these words I think you captured your emotions and the moment very well.

As far as the anti' s issue it is really a non-issue. Emotion will never listen to reason regardless of what the facts are. The circle of life sometimes culminates with a violent end whether one is the hunter or the hunted. It ultimately ends in the death of every living thing. I' m not trying to be morbid or fatalistic, that is just the natural order of things. We are not saying it gives one license to be cruel, quite the contrary. The responsibility we carry to the field every time we go out is quite formidable.

Some time ago I attempted to tie this circle of life philosophy to the passion we have for bowhunting and put it to words. This is the result, I hope you enjoy it....

The alarm clock rings and I arise,
I wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
Jump in the shower with " no-scent soap"
Not sure it works, but it gives me hope!

Throw on my clothes, my boots, my pack,
Go out the door and don' t look back.
With bow and arrow in my hand,
I start my trek o' er frosted land.

The night is dark, no moon I see,
No matter now, I find my tree.
Up I climb to my perch on high,
Now I wait, hoping " He" walks by.

Two hours go passed and still no deer,
I wonder why did I hang my stand here?
Suddenly movement! Not far from my tree,
Alas a buck, but it is not " He" .

The buck walks past without a clue,
I tip my hat and pay him due.
In younger days he would be mine,
But now I search for bigger tine.

I hunt not to kill, although that is a part,
The call of the wild runs deep in my heart.
I respect all creatures both big and small,
In God' s plan they are equal one and all.
To take their life is an act that is sacred,
It is not done with carelessness or hatred!

Now three hours have passed and I grow cold,
Will I ever take a buck more than four years old?
The silence is broken by a welcome sound,
My heart is pounding as I turn around.

It' s a monster, it' s him, ah yes it is " He" !
" Oh please" I pray, " Please walk by my tree" !
To breathe is hard, I shiver I shake!
I raise my bow the shot to take!

The deed is done the arrow flies true.
I' m filled with joy but sadness too!
The circle of life is again complete,
I will feed the hungry with this buck' s meat.

Years have passed and I' ve grown old.
" You can' t go hunting" that' s what I' m told.
Tis sad but true, it is no fable,
My mind is willing but my body' s not able.

Those days are done, for good they' re gone,
But in my memory they live on.
Cry not for me, don' t grieve, don' t pout!
I' ve come full circle, without a doubt.

I’d like to leave this world a better place.
I hope to say good-bye with dignity and grace.
It' s all part of a plan much bigger than me,
It' s my turn now, like the buck called " He" .
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