Sam Griggs
Whistling a jangly tune to himself, Rupert led the way as the two of them wandered ever further into the forest.
The two of them were dressed in beige fur-lined anoraks, thermal pants and black boots to help keep out the cold. Apart from Rupert’s whistling, the only other sound was the sound of their boots crunching on and sinking into the snow on the ground.
“Shh,” Rupert held out a hand to stop Sam.
“What is it?” Sam asked back in a whisper.
Rupert put a finger to his lips and pointed straight ahead. Up a short distance in front of them was a robust deer.
Most of the time, when they caught small game such as rabbits and squirrels, they traded those in for proper groceries at the market. Deer, on the other hand, was a fine mouthful for any hunter. It was customary that Rupert and Sam usually left the deer with the butcher to skin for them. The only price they had to pay was that Miller got to keep a decent-sized portion of the meat.
“Come on,” Rupert whispered, advancing slowly toward the deer.
They could use either the rifle or the bow and arrows to take the deer down. A rifle shot usually took the deer down in one or two hits if they were accurate enough. Using the bow and arrows sometimes took a while if they didn’t get a one-hit kill. The deer would scamper away if the wound was just a flesh wound. They had to nail the deer clean through the eyes or head with either weapon.
Using the hunting rifle meant that they stood a smaller chance of wounding the deer, thus, they’d get fresher meat once the game was handed off to Miller. Using the bow and arrows meant they might not take the deer down with one hit, increasing their chances of wounding the deer too much and ending up with bad game. Yet, the bow and arrows was a silent weapon. Firing off the hunting rifle would take down a good deer, but scare away any other game. Shooting it with an arrow – or more than just one – would be a tedious and risky job, but it wouldn’t attract too much attention or make too much noise. Any game within the nearby area was less likely to hear the noises and flee.
“Rifle or arrows?” Sam whispered hoarsely to Rupert.
“That depends. You feel brushed up enough on your shooting skills with that thing?” Rupert asked, pointing at Sam’s bow.
“Not really. I’m a better shot with a rifle,” Sam muttered.
“And I’m better with the bow. Who do you want to take down the deer?” Rupert asked. “If you let me take it down, you know I’m allowed to take home a larger amount of meat.”
It was true. Sam knew Rupert was prideful. If he relinquished and let Rupert use his bow to take down the deer, 70% of the deer meat would go to him. Sam wanted that 70%.
“I’ll do it,” Sam said, pushing past Rupert quietly, being careful not to alert the deer or any other game.
“Alright, hot shot,” Rupert grumbled.
Sam considered his options. He could try his luck with the bow and arrows, but risk screwing things up and letting the deer get away…or he could just forget it and make good use of his forte with the rifle, but risk alerting any game within the area.
Slowly, Sam’s hand reached up to his shoulder and slid his bow off.
“You sure about this? If you don’t nail that thing with one arrow, it’s going to scamper off and who knows if we’ll catch up to him again,” Rupert warned. “Maybe it would be safer to use the rifle-”
“Nah,” Sam spat. “If I don’t try now, I’ll never improve.”
“Once again, alright, hot shot,” Rupert held his hands up in mock surrender, indicating the deer with a jerk of his head. “Do your worst.”
Sam smiled grimly. He nocked an arrow steadily, raising it so it was lined up in his sights with his prey.
Nothing else mattered. It was just him, the deer, and his waiting arrow. He was out in the field, on the hunting grounds; his focus entirely zoned in one this one job.
Sam swallowed, gaining his confidence, and then with a silent whisper of good luck to himself, he released the arrow and let it fly.
It was almost as if in slow-motion. Sam watched the arrow whistle through the air, fly right over the deer’s head and thud into a tree behind it.
The deer jerked its head up at the sound of the noise, before scampering off into the dense woods, frightened for its life.
Sam sighed, setting his bow down.
Rupert snorted. “I told you we should have used the rifle. This screw-up is on you, hot shot.”
Sam turned to regard Rupert. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Come on, let’s see if we can track that thing.”
