It was a great day. The sun was shining and there was the cool autumn breeze, giving the reminder that winter was just around the corner. The leaves on the trees were so beautiful, with all of their bright colors, as they fell down and painted the earth. Buck season had just begun, and James was so pumped. It was his absolute favorite time of the year. Hunting was his passion and he couldn’t picture his life without it, especially since the mysterious disappearance of his mother a few years ago. It, in fact, helped him cope with her loss. James had been hunting for as long as he could remember with his dad and grandfather; way before his mom even died. He loved them very much, but never really got to hang out with much because they were …show more content…
They got up in their tree stands and were up there for a few hours, when James suddenly heard some rustling in the trees. He looked down, his binoculars moving right in the direction he heard the noise from, as he tried to make out what it was. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There it was, a big, beautiful buck. From what he could see, it was a least a 10-point. He was so excited he brought out his Remington 30-06 and scoped it in on the deer. He relaxed and breathed in slowly and out right as pulled the trigger, just as his dad taught him. All of the sudden, the buck jerked its head down, as if it sensed his presence. Bam! The gun went off, as the bullet soared right over the buck’s head. No luck. The deer then ran away and back behind the …show more content…
“Was this really happening? Am I just dreaming a horrible dream now?” he thought. He tried pinching himself, hoping to wake up from this terrible nightmare, but no luck. This was definitely real and happening now. There was no escape. James continued to run and pulled out his rifle, expecting his dad or grandfather to come out from anywhere. All of the sudden, his grandfather came out of nowhere, charging towards him. It was almost inhuman. Before James could think he pulled the trigger. Bam! The rifle went off and his grandfather dropped, dead. He couldn’t believe what he just had done. He had no time to waste though if he was going to survive. He was lost now, way off the original trail he followed to get here. If only he could find his way back to the truck and get the heck out of here. James ran on when all of the sudden his dad came out of the brush and tackled him; a predator desperate to kill his prey. James struggled, he tried to go for his gun, but it fell off when his dad tackled him. Then, he remembered the knife he put in his pocket early. He grabbed it and then stared into his father’s eyes. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening to him. He was in shock. Just as his father was about to go in for the kill, James stabbed him, over and over. Until all that remained was silence and a pile of blood around him. His father was dead, what was he going to do? Then, he stared over his body and wept. He wept
This is just like in the story, Everything Will be Okay, how James is trying to be just like his brothers and his father. For example, he was going to go hunting with his dad, not because he wanted to, but because he wanted his father to like
For many people, hunting is just a sport, but for some it is a way of life. In Rick Bass’s “Why I Hunt” he explains how he got to where he lives now and what he thinks of the sport of hunting. There are many things in the essay that I could not agree more with, and others that I strongly disagree. Overall this essay provides a clear depiction of what goes through the mind of a hunter in the battle of wits between them and the animal.
He begins to think how he had just killed a man and how him and his friends had tried to attempt rapping a girl. As he is walking in the lake he touches a dead body and gets freaked out even more and began to yell. Then the girl hears him and scream there they are and began to throw rocks into the lake trying to hit the narrator. He then hears the voice of Bobby who bought him relief and sorrow at the same time. He felt relief because he discovers that the Bobby is not dead and sorrow because the Bobby was alive and wanted to kill him and his friends.
When Kevin sees his father dying in the woods and is overcome with grief, he begins to forget a...
As a boy in rural Illinois, James became recognized as an outstanding marksman with the pistol. His parents, Abner and Eunice Hickok, were very religious people. They would make James wear a stiff, uncomfortable suit to church on Sundays. This caused a huge fight every week at the Hickok home. James was not close with his parents. His father believed him to be a dreamer with unreachable dreams. Nevertheless, James did his choirs so to keep the family happy.
I was sitting in the old rickety chair that looked as if it had been there for five years. The smell of gunpowder hung in the morning air as I leaned over the rifle rest. My finger wrapped around the trigger as my eye focused through the scope of my grandfather’s Springfield ’03. I took a deep breath and let half out. My finger tightened on the trigger as I awaited the recoil and crack of the gunpowder igniting. Finally, when my finger’s pull was enough to move the trigger, the gun went off. Moments like this are why I love shooting guns.
...e Spain’s rifle. He cries out for his dead father as a young child would, but makes an adult decision to run away from everything and his family.
As we knocked our arrow in the bow we strolled into the woods as quiet as a mouse. Kevin showed me where the stand was and i went into game mode. I climbed in the stand and i started to look around. Less than 30 minutes a 4 pointer came at 23 yards but since it was small i let him walk. I had about 10 minutes of light left and it has been 2 hours since i seen him. Crashhhhh. A doe was at 20 yards. I drew back and looked threw the sites. I seen that she had no idea i was there and i felt bad if i would have taken her life. I diss drawn and let the doe walk.
...utweighed only by his need to get to him. So, he runs harder, faster than ever and then “knowing it was too late,”(287) Sarty hears the shots. Bang . . . . .Bang! Bang! And it is over. The night is quiet save for the distant echo of a young boy’s agonizing screams “Father! Father!”(287)
demands that his uncle and his family leave his home. This is when his uncle reveals that he
Hunting is the practice of pursuing any living thing, usually wildlife or feral animals, by humans for food and survival (“Hunting”, 2011). Hunting has been traced back to the beginning of man. In American culture, hunting has always been a way of life. The Native Americans and early American settlers hunted to survive, that is so they did not die of starvation, just in case that is in any way confusing. Today however, puny-minded individuals see it not as a way of life, but as a thirst for blood and murder. In order to survive, men had to hunt to provide food for their families and communities, and if unsuccessful, they would go hungry. Their survival depended upon what they hunted and killed, leaving nothing to waste. Every part of the animal was used from the bones to the meat to the pelt, to satisfy the needs of survival. Men had to be creative to outsmart these cunning animals; therefore, a wide variety of weapons were use...
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
My heart began to beat very rapidly and I breathed deeply to try to calm myself. These deer would step into a clearing in a few feet, and I needed to try to be calm to make a good shot. I picked a spot where I thought that the buck would pass and estimated the distance. I guessed the range to be fifteen yards and waited. I let the doe pass through my ...
...the wood for movement, looking for the slightest movement that will indicate the presence of some animal, maybe a deer walking through the woods feeding, or maybe a squirrel on its never-ending hunt for food. At 8:45 I get up and walk to my brother; the cold weather has found its way into my body through my many layers of clothes. I walk ever so silently hoping to find a deer over the hill, or in some alders eating. I see nothing but when I get to my brother he tells me I pushed five deer right past him.
Bass, Rick. “Why I Hunt.” The McGraw-Hill Reader Issues across the Disciplines. 11th Edition. Gilbert Muller. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2011. Print.