Hedge of Thorns: Upright Ears
At first light, I wriggle my pack straps onto my shoulders, snug them down, and cinch the waist strap as well. The gate hinges operate smoothly enough, which is good, because I haven’t oiled them in a few weeks, but I don’t want to delay setting out to do that now. I lock it, and step up onto one of the rocks I occasionally use to climb the slope behind the cabin. My whetstone in its case bumps against the side of my thigh as I move from one boulder to another.
I reach down for the lashed-together travois poles leaning against the slope, and yank. They’re going to be a pain in the neck to maneuver. When I finally reach the top, my palms are on the verge of blistering. Can’t abandon the poles, because I’ll never drag the meat home any other way. Backtracking to collect them isn’t on my agenda either.
Since the fire has forced me to seek game in other directions, I’m trying the higher ground first. The soil there’s a bit too rocky to take many tracks, and the sparse shrubs aren’t waving tell-tale snagged hairs at me, but I see gnawed twig ends at roughly elk head-height, and sooner or later every creature leaves droppings.
If I can bring down a young elk, I’d be well set for my winter’s needs. Of course, I’d prefer to spend less than half-a-day hauling the carcass home. The poles scrape and rattle in my wake as I trudge.
I should’ve kept that mule.
Ten more minutes of walking brings me to a spot dusty enough to reveal tracks. They look reasonably fresh, and are probably from a mule deer rather than an elk. I ease the poles to the ground, and scan ahead in the direction the tracks lead.
Moving with as much stealth as I can manage, I proceed. The tracks appear fresher, and I freeze. It’s much too soon to let excitement take over. There’s a patch of scrub to my left that could be providing my quarry cover. I’m down wind of it, for the moment.
A pesky gust raises dust. It blows in my face, but I dare not wipe my tearing eyes, in case the action alerts any game. Squinting hard helps, and my vision clears enough to catch what I think is movement. I inhale, and hold the breath. Almost a minute later, it recurs. I pick out the shapes of four long, upright ears.
One pair is lower to the ground than the other. Would two mule deer be better than one? Of course.
I exhale slowly as I prepare to let my bow slide down my shoulder to my hand. My palm is damper than I’d want to admit, so I tighten my grip on the weapon. I nock an arrow, but neither animal moves.
Aiming at the nearer shape, I draw, but then the farther animal cracks twigs. Startled, the mule deer stands, crouches for a split second, and leaps. I pivot to follow it, and release the arrow, which misses. As the mule deer plunges away to the south, other hooves clatter closer and a raucous EEEE-AWWW stabs the quiet.
Hedge of Thorns: Upright Ears is a segment of a serialized short story that posts on Fridays.
Check the menu on this blog for other, previously posted serialized stories, here.
Ruth
Heidi Kortman
Krystine Kercher
Heidi Kortman