The Plains of Abraham

Chapter 25

Adrienne's little brother Eli and I spent the day together hunting. He told me the local hunting was good for wild cow, which he called "buffalo," also for deer, ducks, turkeys, pheasants, and even bears, depending on the season. And of course rabbits and squirrels. He liked hunting more than fishing, he said, because he could see his prey.

Today we were going to kill a wild cow. And we were only going to use bows and arrows. The Ellanoyans had no firearms, just projectile points, same as the Garhogs. If either side acquired black powder weapons, the other side would be exterminated.

"Wouldn't that be a good outcome," I asked, "as long as it was in your favor?"

He shook his head. "Then Ellanoy would be in imbalance." He pronounced "Ellanoy" like his fellow citizens did, as though it comprised the universe.

It was an odd attitude to have, not to want your mortal enemies vanquished, but I elected to keep the opinion to myself. Maybe I'd ask Jonah about it. Although I already knew how he'd answer; he'd say something frustratingly cryptic about one's path in life.

We left the gate and marched down the steep slope and through the woods to an open pasture. As we approached a herd of wild cows Eli said, "As soon as you shoot at an animal and determine you've hit him, drop down in the grass. Don't move. One arrow likely won't kill him, it will only make him mad."

"What if he discovers me hiding in the grass?"

"Buffaloes aren't sprinters. They're heavy and their legs are stubby. If one chases you, run. Try to reach a tree." He laughed to himself, and I asked why. He said, "When I was little and learning to hunt, the first lesson I remember was, Cows don't climb trees."

"What happens if one of them catches me?"

"He'll snag you on his horns, toss you in the air, and trample you underfoot. Trust me, you'd rather be up a tree."

"Perhaps we should hunt quail instead."

"Shh. There they are."

Straight ahead was a cluster of hairy beasts, chewing the tall grass. They didn't appear to notice us.

"We make a regular habit of coming in close proximity without attacking," Eli said, "so they don't necessarily see humans as dangers. Would you like to take the first shot?"

"Depends. Where's the nearest tree?"

"Aim for the big ugly one up front, and try to hit him in the chest. We'll eat well tonight."

"I rather doubt I'll hit him at all."

"Go ahead. I've got you covered."

The cow just chewed grass. Killing him wasn't going to feel at all like hunting. I aimed my arrow, approximated a good parabolic arc, pulled the bowstring back, and let fly. The arrow whistled through the intervening space and struck the cow in the head.

The animal jumped in a start. He made a pathetic cry. He looked around for the cause of his pain. I didn't drop into the grass, as instructed. I remained standing, dumbfounded, a human in the crosshairs of a wrathful brute.

The rest of the herd scattered. The wounded member ascertained the source of the arrow and charged.

"Time to find a tree," I said, thinking it would also soon be time to find a toilet.

"I'm right behind you," Eli said.

"What? I thought you were going to cover me!"

"I meant that more or less metaphorically."