Personal Narrative: The Joy Of Hunting

As the deer fed at the marsh's edge, it's tail flickering as it nibbled tender and ripe green growth. Then the nervous animal pauses in it's feeding and lifted its head to listen. Whatever hint of danger the deer had sensed was ignored once the threat could not be located. It stamped a forefoot, lowered its head and began to eat once more, this deer had failed to detect a Florida panther that was downwind (going into the wind) crouched low in the underbrush. Amber eyes however, estimated the distance between himself and the deer. Then at the right moment attacked the deer, with bounds at over twenty feet at a time the panther exploded out of the underbrush pouncing on the deer and forcing it to the ground. Within fifteen seconds that

The most exhilarating thing that I have ever experienced was last winter when I shot my first deer. To some, this may seem like a simple task. Deer hunting takes a lot of time and patience. Although, it can get boring and aggravating, it can be a great experience if one takes these three steps. The first thing I did to shoot my first deer was find a good location to hunt at. Luckily, my boyfriend has land in Cheraw, South Carolina that I had access to. One must prepare for a good spot to hunt during the preseason. A person can hunt all they want, but if they are not in a good hunting spot, they will never shoot a big buck. One thing to keep in mind is that not every spot will have deer in it every hunt. One must be consistent and wait for the

An imperial guard came, on orders from his superior, to a small hamlet where a domesticated elephant had sowed panic among the native population. At the arrival of the guard, the elephant seems already appeased and rests quite a few blocks from the town center. With the rifle in his hand, the guard turns to the animal, followed by an expectant crowd. On the way, the guard realizes that the danger has passed, and thinks, without saying, that

It was a beautiful October afternoon as I climbed to the top of my tree stand. The sun was shining, and a slight breeze was blowing from the northwest. I knew that the deer frequented the area around my stand since my step-dad had shot a nice doe two days earlier from the same stand, and signs of deer were everywhere in the area. I had been sitting for close to two hours when I decided to stand up and stretch my legs as well as smoke a cigarette.

On a hilltop stood a deer. He was so proud of himself stating that he was the sole king of the forest.” I am the king of the forest. No one could ever challenge me.” the deer said as the animals of the forest gathered around. It was true, he was the strongest and biggest deer and all of the other animals were smaller.

So during the night she decides she will take her father’s place and fight to bring honor back to her name. She makes fake antlers out of sticks and wood, puts on her father’s armor, and runs to the army camp. Weeks later, Mac and the other deer warriors have survived the tough training camp and are on the way to the north forest to stop the elk. After many battles the deer are losing, the elk are almost near the town. Mac comes up with a brilliant idea, she tells all the other deer to find a tree and knock it over, creating a wall the elk cannot pass. However, when she is pushing on a tree her antlers fall off, revealing she is a doe. All of the other deer fighters are outraged, they feel betrayed and lied to. Mac runs off to be hidden. While she is hiding just outside of town she hears the pack leader cry for help, and without thinking runs off to help him. The elk have found a way around the wall and are attacking the city. Mac spots the leader of the elk and runs to fight him. They have an intense battle, and when it looks like Mac is going to lose all the other deer soldiers run up to show support and help

It was a long couple of weeks waiting and waiting to find out if I would get my first buck tag. About every year my family all goes deer hunting but this year was the first yeas I had a deer tag and could shoot a buck. I will never take deer hunting as what it looks like on T.V or what it looks like from the back seat not doing the hunting. Deer hunting is a sport and is not easy and that is why this changed the way I think and feel about the hunt.

As I stepped out of the car, ready for the coming morning, a new sense of determination shot through me. A sharp, cold breeze prickled against my face as I unzipped the gun case. We had been hunting for three days now, and all three of my brothers had filled their deer tag for the season. It was my turn.

The reason i love to hunt is because it so peaceful. There's no one out there to yell at u or complain. You can take some weight off of your body and mind just setting in the woods hearing birds talking to each other there ain't nothing like it. Hunting is like my exercise and i would walk as far as i have to to climb a tree. Hunting is the bomb. I Love setting in the woods.

BOOM! My heart racing, as I waited for the smoke to clear. "Just sittin in a tree, sittin in a tree, sittin in a tree...a night" I hummed along to quietly as my evening hunting expedition slowed to a crawl. It was four in the evening when I had first got into my stand and its now close to seven-thirty. It was cold outside – 30 below – but the sun brought a sense of warmth to that chilled November evening. The trees leaves had fallen in the fall so the trees were now bare. I hadn't saw any deer in the three hours and thirty minuets I had been there; a few squirrels, a couple rabbits, and one very sly fox. Peace, quiet, and the simplicity alone was enough reason to had made the trip out there. I had grown hungry and since it had been well after my dinner time I decided to have a snack to hold me off until my evening in the woods was over; so I pulled out the PB&J sandwich.

I was so ready to get out there with Grandpa Bob. We started back the old forest service road, I was so tired I was starting to fall asleep, until dad clipped a rock, and the whole machine jostled side to side. He laughed and said ,”Didn’t want ya to fall asleep over there!” We got to where we would park the ATV’s, and I saw Grandpa Bob hobble off his ATV, I knew his knee wasn’t good , so I knew we would be stopping to “take a breath” every little bit. As we head up the oak brush covered hillside Grandpa tells me all about his old hunting stories, and how him and his old war buddies used to have a blast hunting. It seemed like every couple hundred yards he would say,”We got one here years ago”, or ,”Gunnie shot about 5 times here.” I loved hearing stories about the past, and all his adventures on this mountain, before I knew it we were there, in “Bob's Meadow”. We sat down in a group fallen aspen trees, it seemed like we sat for hours. I began to get bored and wondered,”I wonder what’s over that hill…” Grandpa must have noticed that and he started to tell me of times where he sat for hours and hours, but as soon as he got up someone shot an animal right where he was. Right then I heard a huge commotion coming from the other side of the meadow , I couldn't believe my eyes when a beautiful 5 point buck strutted into the meadow. I was

To make hunting enjoyable you need to know the safety rules according the laws to hunting the right equipment and the thrill of hunting.

Martha walks out into the woods with her hunting rifle ready to go. She loved the smell of the dew covered grass. She felt one with nature. Martha looked up at the trees for direction. They bent in the way of her next meal. She thanked them. Martha continued North in search of a beautiful buck. The bushes told Martha that she had a long distance to travel before she would find it. The grass and vines wrapped around her feet and carried her through the forest. She felt the warm air rush past her whispering encouraging words as she was carried. Soon the vines released her near a family of deer. There was a buck, a doe and two small fawns. Martha reached up to a tree with large branches. The tree lowered itself for her to climb on and raised her

As the morning dew starts to fade, you crawl into position, above a mossy rock, the herd one hundred yards below. Your guide hands you the rifle, spots the desired beast, a large stag too old to maintain a healthy, happy life. And gives you a quiet comment of encouragement: “You mess this up and you'll be dinner" in a broad highland accent, morphed by the routine dram. You warily place the crosshairs over the beast's chest, breathe... the crack fills the air, silence.

Yet something made me hold my fire. The buck had turned his head now, and his great ears twitched to catch the baying of the dogs. His moist nose trembled, and his eyes, softly luminous, alert without fearful, seemed to stare right at me. There was pride and dignity in every line of his body, and I knew suddenly that I could not destroy him. For several breathless moments he remained where he was, and then a vagary of the breeze carried my man-smell to him. In two huge leaps he crosses the clearing and was gone. I stayed where I was, silent and enraptured.