“Blood.” Raza pointed, just as Ahnda hooted from high above in the canopy. The boy’s instincts were good--as good as an adult’s. Without another thought, Raza dropped into a crouch, as did Vorak. What had the boy seen? Raza listened for danger, any sound that didn’t fit their surroundings. Should they flee? After a moment, Ahnda called again, using a combination of Cousin Chimp and Cat’s sounds, “Pachyderm. Dead. Alone.” Raza moved forward, stooped over so he could hide beneath the foliage. Food! He’d heard the pachyderm’s painful desolate cry not long ago, the sound that could only be caused by a mortal wound. Then the blood. Pools of it, coating the leaves, puddling on the jungle path. What surprised Raza was that whoever killed the animal wasn’t now scavenging it. Raza scooted forward, staying under cover of the dense brush, keeping downwind of what must be an enemy somewhere ahead. He moved cautiously, sniffing, listening, pausing often, searching for any noises that didn’t fit the habitat he knew like he knew his own body. His heart raced and his mouth watered. It was difficult not to rush. He hadn’t eaten today or yesterday, or the day before that. Not unusual, but it was time. Mammoth—a rare treat. A quick glance overhead, but his ears hadn’t deceived him. No vultures yet. Good. He and Vorak and Ahnda would not have to dodge sharp beaks and tearing claws as they harvested what they could from the carcass. Vorak barked, glared. Raza nodded and forced himself to slow down, listen, let Vorak take the lead as he guarded their rear. It would do the group no good to lose hunters. Ahead, Vorak stopped. He was motioning, crouched at the edge of a cliff Raza well knew. It edged a deep gully with a stream running through. The... ... middle of paper ... ...ood in their hands, and then Klvda, did Garv eat. What serenity the stranger brought just by his presence. Cautiously at first, then with hungry abandon, they all ate. First the delicious eyes and brains, followed by the organs. Garv paused occasionally to take stock of Raza and Vorak, and then continued. As stomachs filled, the children poked each other, playing with the bones as children do. When Ahnda finished his meal, he edged closer to them, giggling at their antics. Raza and Vorak ate slowly, eager to keep an eye on the strangers, no matter how harmless they appeared. A giggle broke the silence as the child who had run in fear just a short time ago popped around Garv’s bulk to check on Ahnda. Dark eyes sparkled over a pugnacious snout. Raza couldn’t help but believe that baby mammoth was right to give up her life. With hunger abated, Garv began his tale.
My breath was heavy as I was sprinting from them. I could hear them on my tail. But the only this that was racing through my mind was “I have the book.”
First, the attitude of the speaker’s father creates a contrast with other hunter’s behaviours during hunting. When the speaker goes hunting with his father, his father often adopts the technique of “[sitting] silently, motionless and endlessly patient, waiting for deer to come down the paths” (2). They sit this way for hours and are usually rewarded because “there was always an abundance of less patient hunters … noisily crashing about, keeping the deer more or less constantly on the move” (2). The sound of
Miranda’s brother Paul stripped the skin away from the dead animal the “flayed flesh emerged dark
As a child, Black Elk was blessed by his grandfathers with a vision. In this vision he saw the fate of his people. There were many symbolic creatures and elements in this vision. There we...
Chapter 11, titled “Stalking,” characterizes the muskrat as a prey to numerous predators and the object of death. Although Dillard observes the muskrat as it serenely travels down the creek earlier in the chapter, she suggests that the muskrat is no exception to the theme relating to death. Dillard claims that the muskrat is the “bread and butter of the carnivorous food chain” (195) and compares it to the rabbits and the mice since any animal big enough to eat mammals will eat the muskrat. To support this idea, she lists the common predators of the muskrat that hunt and kill it for their own survival. From hawks and owls to foxes and minks, the muskrat finds its enemies in all places of the sky, the land, and the water. The struggle of the muskrat to avoid its preda...
The void in his hopeless eyes was immediately filled with anger. "I didn't kill anyone!" he yelled and tried to lunge at him but the boy was held back by the chains, "I tried to save them but I was too weak to do it on my own! You all left my friends to die..." he lowered his head as tears welled up in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. "I begged and begged," his voice
... I had never even seen most of the food displayed, I eagerly and respectfully tried each dish. After everyone in the room sat down at the massive table, the Rabbi picked up a glass of wine and made a prayer over it. Then, Rabbi Kanelsky passed around pieces of Challah bread to the entire table. This lunch festival was yet another ceremony dedicated to one of the member’s deceased relative. At the conclusion, the Rabbi said another prayer out loud for the deceased and the relative expressed his gratitude to everyone.
In undertaking such a long journey through uninhabited land, provisions were often hard to come by. Thus, this journal reveals Robe's preoccupation with the location and pursuit of game animals for food and sport, namely buffalo. His journal entry dated May 29, 1851 reveals his excitement at seeing a herd of buffalo to hunt for the first time, and when footmen from his group pursue and kill three buffalo, Robe comments that this hunt was a "pretty good success for the first" (Text, 386). We see that animal life in general, and the differentiation between predator and game is at the forefront of Robe's mind. His May 31st journal entry provides much detail regarding animal life that contrasts with his journal entry from the day before, which simply reads: May 30th, "Nothing remarkable today" (Text, 386). Clearly, Robe's observations center around animal life, as his May 31st entry provides details regarding the dynamics of animals along the route. Wolves are the predators to the calves of buffalo, while owls are the predators to Prairie dogs (Text, 387). Seeing the variety of animals and large quantity of buffalo (a herd of 1,000) provides Robe and his group the motivation to undertake "a very extensive ramble" in exploration and pursuit of animals (Text, 387). Thus, we see that this man's concerns along the journey were
Robert's encounter with the coyote is a significant step in his understanding of animals and, in turn, this leads to a greater understanding of himself. For Robert to be a soldier, it is important for him to see the point of view of a hunter. He learns from the coyote that a hunter must be generous and kill only in order to survive ("Animals and Their Significance" 1). Robert follows the coyote and watches as it passes two gophers and does not even "pause to scuffle the burrows or even sniff at them. It just [goes] right on trotting--forward towards its goal" (26). The coyote seems to sense Robert's connection with animals and realizes that he is not a threat. This is why the coyote continues to let Robert follow behind when it knows he is there. They drink together at the river, enjoying a "special communion" (Pirie 73). Then the animal tries to communicate with Robert by barking at him, "telling Robert the valley [is] vacant: safe" and then barks another three times to announce its departure (28). When Robert returns to the base, he pays the price for his time with the coyote and is confined to the barracks, but the experience has a profound impact on him. In his confinement, he feels as if the coyote has become a part of him, and he wishes "that someone would howl" (28).
In his article The Modern Hunter-Gatherer, Michael Pollan recounts the events that took place during his first hunting trip. Both during and after the hunt, Pollan struggles with an array of emotions that he conveys directly with his audience. From this struggle, a moral complication is formed regarding the direct relationship of death between humans and animals. By not giving a direct answer regarding the question he introduces of whether animals and humans experience death in the same way, Pollan leaves his text open to interpretation which ultimately forces his audience to view hunting through a more challenging, introspective lens.
creature stood before me, gnarling teeth, sharp enough to slice cleanly through my flesh. Skin, a sickish green, mounted with boils and sores, rough and jagged all over. Claws, double the size of the contorted figure, curled by it's side. The creature hunched over, as it were waiting to pounce any second, or maybe as if I was waiting for it to pounce. Now, I was more curious then frightful. My feet glued to the floor, my heart pounding heavily. I was to be a victim, slaughtered and eaten as the main course yet I still stood. The compelling need, to look the creature in the eye had taken over, and my chin lifted. Our eyes met, and my breath caught in my throat. My stomach churned, not at the sight of the horns that stretched from it's forehead,
“Suddenly the young hunter saw the woman, with her dress above her waist, her bare legs sprayed wide apart. He had never seen a woman like that before. He ran quickly to her side and stared down at her belly, quite frightened to touch. There, lying beneath the woman's legs, was the body of a small, damp, pink animal, attached only by something that looked like a rope......”
The bones in his teeth crunched like they were made of toothpicks. The boy hadn’t been much of a feast. Scrawny, boney, and barely even a young man, Grendel made quick work of him. The reptile’s tongue trailed across his teeth and his lips, cleaning the last remnants of blood from his face. While satisfied, the beast knew that he would soon hunger for more. Seeing what he had seen earlier, Grendel knew that more would succumb to peer pressure and make the dangerous, last trip into the forest, much as their companion had...
The creature had begun to laugh at my shrieking. Or, at least, I had assumed it was laughing. It was a hoarse, scratchy sound that started in its’ gut and moved slowly through its’ throat. It had been horrible sounding. Worse than the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. He had stopped laughing and looked me in the eyes with his red and soulless goat-like