It was a summer evening and we were near dinner time when the phone rang. A family, who were old acquaintances with us, had called to ask a rare favor. They inquired if their teenage sons could be allowed to borrow our horses and trails to go crossbow hunting. My mother, who is the farm manager, told them that it was not something that we generally allowed. However, she said that if I agreed to accompany and supervise them that it would be permitted. So it was that we scheduled one of the most memorable rides of my life. The boys showed up in the late evening after dinner a few days later. We groomed, saddled and tacked up the horses and made sure they were properly suited for the ride. A little before dusk we rode up into the trails and began our search. I learned within the first hour that of our ride that crossbows are not easy to use. Two hands are needed. One to hold the front and the other to pull back the string and arrow. To handle the crossbow at all while on horseback, one needs to be a very skilled and balanced rider who can hold the reigns and one part of the crossbow in one hand at the same time. Many horses are startled at the mere sound of the twinge of a bow or the sight of arrows flying through the air. So, to have any chance at striking their mark, a person must either have a very experienced and docile horse or be very skilled in controlling their steed. Such takes time and skill and this was a one-time only riding-hunt experience for the boys. Also worthy of note is that our woods are very dense in the summertime. Deer can easily hide within five feet of the trails without being seen or noticed during this season. The arrows also have to be shot in a manner so as not to hit any trees or bushes between the path of the hunter and his prey. Thus, crossbow hunting on horseback is certainly not an easy thing to do. We split into two groups so as to be more silent and have more of an opportunity to cover the approximately 90 acres in our domain. This increased our sight of game and we hoped that it would give us more of an opportunity to catch our prey. Despite the terrible odds against us our little troop nearly hit the mark several times. Yet, time was against us and the sky was quickly darkening. I was responsible for bringing everyone safely home. Since we had split up and spent as much time as possible hunting, we now had very little time to regroup before returning to the stables. As a result of this, I agreed to let the boys do something which we almost never let riders do on our farm. I gave my consent for them to cantor and gallop the full extent of the trails. One who has never been to our farm might not be able to imagine why this is a big deal. I will therefore explain why such is not usually allowed. Our trails are not flat but similar to a rollercoaster; going continuously up in steep inclines and down in rapid declines. Sometimes we allow experienced riders who know well how to keep their horses in control to go fast up the hills. Yet, we rarely allow anyone to ride their horse quickly downhill because of how dangerous it can be between loosing balance, stumbling or hitting something suddenly. I made the rare exception for the boys because I knew them personally for many years and trusted their horsemanship and abilities as I don't many other riders. So it was that for the next 15 minutes or so we cantered and galloped the trails until we regrouped with the rest of our party. Then we made our way as quickly as safely possible to the flattest part of the trails in the open part of the property. Within a few minutes of exiting the forest, the darkness reached its peak and we could hardly see just a few feet in front of us as we rode. If we had been in the forest still it most likely would have been pitch black and getting back to the barn would have been much more difficult. Even as experienced riders, we most likely would have had to dismount and walk our horses back on foot in order to avoid mishap. Though our arrows had not managed to hit any of our targets, it was a great experience. It was like going back to a time in the medieval ages when men had to hunt with more simple means. This ride was one of the most memorable of my life, and I hope that one day such experiences will become again more common in our society.

Gracefully she walked over to some juicy blur berries that were hanging there, just beckoning to her. Juices sensually flowed down her throat blending in with the calmness of the forest.Snap! She sensed a human approaching. It was hunting season, therefore hunters were usually in the season. Remembering this, she started to run. The trees and flowers seemed to make one big rainbow blur, as she rushed past them. More and more hunters kept appearing behind her. The hunters were tall and fierce with guns and arrows, with their black, golden, spotted bloodhound dogs along their side, barking fiercely and savagely at the deer racing before them. The hunted creature ran through the thick forest and screamed as the thorns cut into its flesh. The scent of blood filled the forest causing the dogs to move faster towards their prey. Hot fresh blood streamed from its cuts down its side, sinking into its brown shiny fur. Faster and faster it ran, trying to lose the hunters behind but faster and faster the hunters ran. Deeper into the forest she ran missing thorny trees and shrubs. The colors of the trees got darker and unclear. As the hunters approached, they aimed right at the deer running in front of them; gently one of the hunters pulled back on the trigger of his black and sliver Bushmaster Predator Rifle. There was a thud as the deer fell to the ground up ahead. Shakily, she got up as blood poured from her side, Off she galloped not wanting to give up. Seeing this, the hunters stopped to notice her determination and with this, they let the deer go on her short but merry way. Reaching a river, she stopped and drank some water. As quickly as her blood fell on the ground, the heat of the blazing sun dried it up leaving only a dark, red spot in the dried cracked dirt. As more and more blood poured from her wound, flies, maggots, and worms started to invade it. Slowly she got up and made her way West to her family, hoping to see them one last time because she knew her time was short. Two (2) miles West, she saw her home, as the last few milligrams of blood left her body poured out, she went to see her son and daughter. Seeing them for the last time, a smile appeared on her face as she ran to them. As the last ounce of blood fell from her body, she whispered to her children, "be strong my children because I will be watching over you. I love you both." Just as quickly as she said this, she fell on the hard cracked ground with a heavy thud, her fur sticky caked with blood. Cuddling beside their dead mother's stained, dehydrated and infected body, her children cried at the sight o her but remembering what she had said to them, they took courage and looked up to the sky, knowing their mother will always be watching over them.