Personal Narrative: Hunters And Gathers

The next Monday coach gave us practice off so I headed home again. That night I went over to my brother's house and borrowed his shotgun because it had a fully rifled barrel with a scope. This gun was much better than mine. While I was there we talked about where he had shot his deer and where he had saw other deer. I headed home that night with little hope that I would actually get a deer at all. It was really cold when I got up the next morning. I headed out to a spot near where my brother shot his deer. As I walked out the snow covered ground crunched under my feet. I got set up in my spot and settled down for the wait. I was sitting there for about forty five minutes when I heard a noise.

Narrator: It was a cold, rainy night in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert. There was a run-down, isolated shack roughly 200 miles away from the Mexico-U.S. border. This is where the coyotes live. Jasmina knew that she would have to collaborate with these men in order to have any fighting chance of surviving the dangerous journey into U.S soil.

Our families hiked up to the top of Nevada Falls and there we sat down to picnic, near this beautiful Falls. We broke out our box lunches, opened our soda's. A few minutes into enjoying our food, I looked up about ten feet behind the group and above the rest of the party. Here comes a Mother black bear over the rise with her baby cub. Seeing this instant trouble, I told every one to drop their food and back away. The Mother herself looked only to be not more than five or six years old. And to quote my girls the cub was "adorable." We all backed away and watched the mother sort through our lunch, and decide

It was the middle of October, and it was finally time for my long awaited moose hunt. I have waited ever since I was a little girl for this opportunity, and it was finally here. So, my father and I packed up our stuff and left the warmth of Phoenix. We were leaving the "Valley of the Sun" and headed for a place called Wyoming. After two days and fourteen long hours of driving, we made it to our hunting unit.

Responsibility isn’t for everyone, and it definitely isn't for the lazy. I started the summer of 2016 out by catching at the Calf Scramble in Houston and have only grown to love my heifer. Calf Scramble has not only brought me closer to the animal, but to my family too.

Leaves have all transformed to different colors, pumpkins are being hunted down, and the smell of Fall is brewing. October is here. It is not the costumes, carvings, or delicious caramel corn that gets me all hyped up, it is the opening day of duck season. Duck hunting is one of my most cherished times to spend with my dad, grandpa, and younger sister. I started tagging along with my dad at about three years old. At that age, rather than handling a gun, I handle some crayons and a coloring book in the back of the blind. Five years later I was able to start shooting on my own and still continue to.

After eating me and my cousins were playing hide-and-seek. We had played three rounds and then took a break.After we played again. My cousin was it,she started counting,we went to go hide on the other side of the house.She took so long we went to go see what she was doing.

Another few years down the road when my sister and I were both in our teens one of our goats was eaten by a cougar. The next day we got hound dogs and hunters to track the lion that killed our goat so close to the house. After hours of looking, the dogs finally treed it, my dad took the shot, killing the cougar instantly. Exactly one year later the same thing happened. Cougar number two dead. We had a freezer full of meat that lasted a long time.

Of all the hobbies out there one of my most fond hobbies would have to be duck hunting. It’s something that nothing else in this word can compare to. Chasing ducks is something that’s been in my blood for three generations now. From a very young age I’ve been very into the sport. Duck hunting is a passion that comes deep from my family, from my dad to my grandfather we’ve all become obsessed with the sport. Wading through the flooded fields and timber of the Mississippi delta, and shooting ducks is something that will never go out of style to me.

As a child of a coon hunter, I personally love the sport. But there is more to it than just the sport that I love. When I started getting into hunting and showing hounds, I was about 12. Not because I was forced to, but it was because I watched my Dad do it and I wanted to be like him. So I started off at YEP events. I did everything I could there. If there was a field race, I entered my dog. If there was a treeing contest, I entered my dog. Did I do all of them? No, because I would be at another event when the one I signed up for was. I was either in it or watching my sister. When I started hunting more than anything, I started at a YEP event also. I hunted a dog named Jeb, he was my mom’s hound. In my first competition hunt ever, I had won high scoring male and second place. I was knocked out of first because of 25 circle points.

One day my brother and I and a couple of his friends went rabbit hunting one day. It was

Peace, it seems to me, that no matter what time we are in, what species we are, or even how powerful we are in combat, we never seem to achieve that single, fleeting dream among all men; such is how it is with Novans as well. The closest idea I could think of for what we looked like would have to be what the ancient humans saw as gods within Egypt.

“She served an oily, slick portion of the squirrel to me for supper. I pulled the stringy meat from the bones as best I could. Everyone else ate spaghetti and meatballs. I could not finish my serving. After supper, I felt tired and fell into a deep sleep. I woke up close to midnight and cried out. My grandmother rushed into my room and my parents came in soon after, just in time to see me vomit. My father walked me outside to get some air. I heaved and sobbed for what seemed a very long time. I think it was guilt that I was trying to expel from my body. My father put his arm around my shoulders and held me close to his side. I was a hunter for one day and on that day I had killed a squirrel. That day was also the last time I held a gun in my

I always enjoy getting to spend time with my family, but at the moment I wanted to spend every second with Cameron. When Cameron asked me if I wanted to go hunting with him, but first thought was yes. I always wanted to go hunting, and there was no one I'd rather go with then him. My mom had other plans though. I don't usually fight with my mom, but tonight was different. She told me it was my decision to stay or to go home. My mom didn't realize how excited I was to go hunting at the time. I realized my mistake, but there was no going back and changing it once I

I woke up around 6:30 in the morning and I realized I had not eaten in days and I was starving. So I went out and started looking for something to eat, but I couldn’t find anything, then out of the corner of my eye I saw a rabbit so I jumped for But unfortunately I missed and the rabbit hopped away. So I went back to the camp, and I sat there and I was thinking how was I going to catch any animals then it hit me.I started out in the woods looking of a curved stick and eventually after looking for one for about twenty minutes I found one I tried to break it but it was to hard so it was a good stick. So I started walking back to camp when I got there I took one of my shoelaces and tied it to the stick the shoelace was nice and sturdy so I knew this was going to be a good bow.