Only the second day into spring and the creatures begin to emerge from the hollowed and dark cave from within the forbidden pine grove.
I was ready though with a rifle that I had known from childhood. With a worn stock and newly mounted fiber optic sight I was well versed and deadly accurate with this faithful lever action. Not one to be impressed with heavy bullet weight or f.p.s. I've always opted for the factory equivalent for ammo. It has always served me well in the field as well as at the range.
My first encounter with this animal was around 1700 when I caught a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. A deep bark from my lab/chow mix and a heart stopping shrill from my wife confirmed the beast presence.
But I had made a costly error and was not within reach of my rifle. Much drama ensued at that point and the creature made a mad dash and eluded me. A curse fell from my lips and I became determined to settle this.
4 more hours pasted until I heard another familiar shrill this time from my daughter who was confronted by the beast in a narrow pathway. This time the rifle was within easy reach and I called her to quickly move behind me.
The beast was quartering away with a glint of death in his eye and pooping his teeth I knew that I had time for only one well placed shot. Instinctively I shouldered my rifle in one fluid motion as I had done countless times before and sent a .177 cal ball his way. I can still hear the slap of the bullet hitting perfectly behind his shoulder, dead on his feet and still flopping I sent an insurance shot to his head. Thus ending his reign of terror!
Cheers went up and party ensued once the dead beast was presented before the tribe.
Hunting dogs!!
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