SNAP! I trampled an extremely brittle twig.
"Jeff, watch where you step," my uncle Robert quietly admonished. "Are you trying to scare all the deer away?" He picked up his pace along the heavily wooded, winding path, and I followed suit. The birds were singing sweetly through the otherwise silent forest, and I did not want to disturb that sereneness by stepping on any more sticks. I desperately wanted my first hunting experience to be memorable.
When Uncle Rob had mentioned that he was going to the game preserve this weekend, I pleaded and begged to go with him. "Please, Uncle Rob, take me with you!" I tugged at his shirt like a little kid in a candy store, only this time I wanted a piece of the action, not a piece of gum.
My uncle was thrilled that I was even interested. "Well, at seventeen, you're certainly old enough. How are you with a gun?" he had asked me.
"Pretty good," I answered, hardly able to contain my composure. "I've been practicing."
"All right, Jeff," he had said, "I'll pick you up bright and early Saturday morning."
I could hardly wait. I scarcely slept a wink the rest of the week. During the little sleep that I did get, I dreamt of hunting. I was a champion game hunter, on safaris in the deepest jungles of Africa. Each dream brought me a new adventure and a different prize. I knew that game hunting in the woods with my uncle would be the most exciting experience of my life.
Gradually returning to reality, I set about scanning the forest for prey. We were mostly interested in deer, but anything large enough to shoot was fine with me. I stopped short as I heard a rustling off to my left. Squinting through the foliage, I spotted a puny rabbit. Hardly worth a bullet, I thought, but I followed it anyway as it scampered away. Overgrown shrubbery tried desperately to block my way, as if the forest didn't want me off the trail. Despite that, I slipped through, being as silent as possible, and followed the rabbit until I spotted a shady area off to my right. As I neared it, I saw that it was a small clearing, bordered on one side by a quaint little babbling brook. There, drinking from the stream, as plain as day, was the most stunning deer I'd ever seen. I drew in a deep breath and stared, committing this sight to memory. The deer was only thirty yards away, if that. If only Uncle Rob could see this, I thought.
Now was my chance. Slowly, so as not to make a sound, I drew my rifle from its holder. Carefully releasing the safety, I cocked the gun and knelt down. With it braced against my shoulder I was able to get a firm grip on it. I aimed it and concentrated as hard as I could. Slowly and gently I squeezed the trigger.
BANG! Almost instantaneously, the deer collapsed into the tall grass at the edge of the brook.
"YES! I got it," I cheered. I gently placed the gun down, making sure I had replaced the safety. An image of a game warden presenting me with a trophy swirled through my mind. I couldn't believe it. My first kill. I momentarily turned around to look for my uncle, but didn't see him. I was too thrilled with my accomplishment to really wonder where he was. Jogging up to the downed animal, I silently marveled at my good fortune again. I then scanned the perimeter for Uncle Rob again. He wasn't there.
Upon reaching my prey, I looked closely at it. Something was bothering me about this deer, but I couldn't figure out what. It had a white tail, four strong legs, large eyes, and a smooth head. Then it hit me. It shouldn't have a smooth head. Where were its antlers? My blood chilled right through to the bone as I realized that I had shot a doe.
Dropping down beside the still breathing deer, I stared right into its eyes. It was a stupid thing to do because as it looked at me I felt its pain. Every ache it felt, I also felt. My whole body began to ache as the forest started spinning around me. I wanted to die.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed to the dying animal, "I'm so sorry!" All my dreams of glorious hunting evaporated like a water droplet in the Sahara. Instead, I imagined dozens of fawns, all lost in the forest, searching frantically for their mother. A mother who would never come home again, thanks to me. I then imagined what the world would be like without my mother, and wept even harder.
"Jeff! What in the world happened? Are you okay? Speak to me, boy!" I looked up to see my uncle bounding across the clearing, calling to me. He had heard the shot, and turned back to find me. Seeing me collapsed on the ground, he feared the worst, but I barely heard a word he said. When he noticed my tears, he demanded to know what was wrong. "I see you got the deer. Did you shoot yourself in the process?"
"No," I sniffled, almost in hysterics, "but look! I shot a doe! Without a mother, all its children will die, and I'll totally disrupt the entire eco-system of the entire preserve."
"What on earth are you talking about?" he questioned me. "Look at this deer. Look especially at the hind legs and the head. Can't you see the stubs of its antlers? Anyway, this deer is too big to be a doe. It's a male deer that simply shed his antlers early, for some reason or another."
"What?!" I cried, unconvinced. "It's not a doe?"
"No," Uncle Rob stated matter-of-factly.
Looking back over at the deer, which had since died, I began to feel a little better. I still felt terrible about killing it, but was really kind of relieved to know that it wasn't a doe. As I stared at it, I saw that my uncle was right. I had just failed to overlook those points in my exhilaration. It was also somewhat of a comfort that it didn't suffer long. Taking one last look at the poor creature by my side, I knew that this would be an unforgettable first and final hunting experience for me.