Elley

[Wudstix]

Some dogs just have a knack for staying with it.
                      

[South MS Bowhunter]

Awesome story Cliff, and only one picture of a dog and cat who would of thunk it

[Swinestalker]

 It was early bow season, the hour was late and shadows were getting long. Only a few more minutes of shooting light were left. I was in a natural blind on a pinch point. The corners of two large, square fields did not quite touch leaving a strip of woods about 30 yards wide. On each side of this funnel we’re large tracts of bottomland hardwoods. It was a fabulous hide and one I’d been using for many years. The blind was at the mouth of the biggest tract of hardwoods allowing me to cover most of the 30 yard strip. The blind had been there for years and had produced several deer over the last decade or so. I had not “freshened” the blind for a couple of years so it was a bit thin in places, especially down low. This allowed Elley good visibility out of the blind, which is something she loves. I looked down at the little dog beside me. Elley was getting on to 9 years old now. The inevitable hand of time had left its mark in the form of grey in her muzzle, and scars on her face from the many battles she’s fought with various varmints over the years. It had gotten very late now and I was just about to start gathering up the gear when Elleys ears perked up. I strained my eyes to see what she was glaring at in the deepening shadows, but could not see it. Elley was honest and I knew she saw something, so I sat there and waited. It had gotten that time of day when the darkness betrays your eyes and begins to turn bushes, stumps and other things into animals. I smelled him before I saw him, the rank, musky smell of a boar hog. My grip on the bow tightened. My fingers found their proper place on the string. My heart began to race with the delicious excitement that all hunters feel, especially when pursuing something that is dangerous. Elley felt that same feeling, I know she did. I had sensed it in her before and I sensed it in her now. It’s a bond we had shared for years. The movement is what caught my eye, and a dark form took shape about 20 yards away. He slowly worked his way to within 12 yards. After he passed and was slightly quartering away, I drew the 48 pound Toelke longbow. The backside of the leather grip pressed into its familiar spot at the base of my palm. The string settled into the familiar creases of my shooting glove. Back muscles pulled my drawing arm back and my fingertips found their anchor. It was too dark to actually pick a spot, so I imagined one right behind where the shoulder should be. Everything felt “right” and all my focus was still on that spot when I felt the string slip from my fingers.....

[Captain*Kirk]

This is great...except for the waiting part! Loving it!

[Swinestalker]

 If it seems I’m drawing this out for dramatic reasons, I am not. These stories are not written. They are memories, and I try to convey to the reader what it was like being there. I’ve written many stories including the two previous that I’ve shared here in the past few years. In a way, I’m sharing the rough draft with my friends here. This story will eventually make its way into a book of short stories I’m writing. I’ve always loved this place and some of the stories with a traditional bow hunting element I share here. Please have patience with me.

[Wudstix]

 

[beemann]

Understood.   Your doing fine whenever you got time......?

[rocketman]

Good stuff   

[madmaxthc]

Great story and very nicely told. Keep up the good work 


 

[Swinestalker]

 The arrow flashed across the short distance and hit the hog with a resounding “Thwack”. Most hogs, or anything else for that matter, don’t generally appreciate being poked with sharp sticks. This one was no exception. Startled, the hog let out a deep, cough like “uhhh” and charged off into the darkness. Elley and I sat silently and listened to the sound of the hog running until we could no longer hear his retreat. I felt confident. It was dark and I could not see my arrow well, but the shot looked good. It did sound like the arrow hit some bones. Probably the far shoulder since he was quartering away. We eased out of the blind and waited about 20 minutes. It was early season and still pretty warm. The night had come alive with the sounds of various insects and frogs. Elley was anxious and I could tell she was desperate for the two little words she longed to hear. She would run a few feet towards where the hog had went, stare in that direction for a few seconds, then run back to as if to say, “Cmon, lets go get him”. I finally relented and quietly said, “Skit em”. Elley tore off through the woods like a guided missile. Immediately a tinge of regret and fear passed over me as the little dog disappeared into the dark night. Warning lights had gone off in my head and I cursed myself for a fool. That was a very dangerous hog. What if my shot was not as good as I thought? To late now, it would be easier to call back the arrow itself than that determined little dog......

[creekwood]

Let me know when that book of short stories is published, I would like to buy a copy since I really like your writing style and subject matter. Now, let's get back to Elley and the arrowed hog mystery. 

[Swinestalker]

 Thank you so much. As you have discovered, I’m slow! But I can assure you that when finished, my family here will be the first to know! All my stories are not hunting related, but they do all center on rural Americana themes of some sort. I’ll try to squeeze in one more part today, but I shoot sports photos for our local high school. It’s an away game and a long drive, but our kids have made it to the playoffs and I can’t let them down!

[wood carver 2]

I’m enjoying the anticipation.😊
Dave.

[South MS Bowhunter]

Cliff, sir you are a Mastercraft story teller and author, a good story has many parts to them. The hook, the fade away, the revival, the unexpected, the suspense, and the outcome. These are just parts of what I see in great stories.

Some think they need pictures and a kill at all times. I respectfully disagree although it has a very important place it is not the end all. Sometime, many time the written word is enough to paint the outcome we seek.

Soldier on my friend 

[Cyclic-Rivers]

 

[Swinestalker]

 Nervously, I got my light out and began to follow the track. “She’ll probably just find him dead” I half heartedly told myself. Truth is, I was worried, very worried. After about 40 yards I found my arrow lying in the path. I anxiously rushed to it, as a recovered arrow can be a wealth of information if property read. Indeed, it can tell you the whole story of the shot itself, as well as it’s likely affect on the animal. As I carefully studied my arrow, I did not like the story it was telling me. First, it was not broken or damaged in any way. Second, there were only a few streaks of blood in the grooves of the heavy, two bladed broadhead. Other than that, the only other thing on the arrow was a clear, wet liquid. Third, and most alarming of all, this liquid only covered the first 3 or 4 inches of the arrow. My heart sank, for this arrow was telling me my shot was not a good one. This arrow was telling me my shot went too far forward, hit the near shoulder and only penetrated a few inches. The clear wet liquid would be from the heavy cartilage of the hogs shield. All I had accomplished was to give that hog a flesh wound and a very bad attitude. About this time a sound somewhere between a lions roar and a squeal came echoing out of the dark woods. I knew that sound. It was the sound of a big, mature boars rage when a bulldog takes hold of him. Oh how I regretted telling Elley those two words! Nor did I realize how much more I was soon to regret them.......

[Swinestalker]

 I dropped everything except the light where it was and charged off into the night like a madman! I prayed I could get there in time. The sound was about 250 yards from me and I covered the ground about as fast as any human could. I reached where I believed the roar had come from in a rush, soaked in sweat and gasping for air. My bear arms, face and neck covered in scratches from limbs and briars. I stopped and listened carefully, straining to hear over my own labored breathing. I shined the light  all around for any clues, my hand involuntary feeling for the knife in my pocket. Nothing, no sound at all. There! About 20 yards to my right was an area of very recently disturbed ground. I rushed to it, desperate for any clue. The torn up ground indicated a brief, but violent struggle. No blood was found and there was no sign of Elley or the hog. Likely the hog broke and ran after the brief fight. Elley could never run down a healthy hog, he would outdistance and lose her easily. I feared this hog was injured just enough that he could not lose Elley, and she would never quit. Eventually I feared, that hog would turn and fight. A terrible felling of panic, desperation and guilt overwhelmed me. Eeelllleeeyyy! I screamed as loud as I could, hoping against hope that my precious little dog would hear and return to me. I did not care about the hog anymore, I just wanted Elley back. I was largely powerless to do anything at this point. I alternately listened and then hollered for Elley until my voice simply gave out about an hour later. Dejected and broken hearted, I returned to the blind, gathered the bow and made my way home, which was not far away. I relayed what had happened to my wife. As I did, tears began rolling down my face and I wept. My wife began weeping too. I decided to get on the 4 wheeler and go down near the Homochitto river to see if I could find them. That’s where I believed the hog would go. No way I could sit here and do nothing. I gathered lights, a medical kit for Elley, a 10mm pistol and rushed back out the door to look for Elley. It was going to be a long night.....

[Swinestalker]

 It’s a little over a mile to the river from our house and I was not feeling confident. All I could do is ride around in the dark, blindly looking and hoping to run across some sign of them. I intended to stop here and there to call for Elley. Trouble was, my voice was almost gone, the regular tone of it replaced by a hoarse, raspy, barely audible whisper that did not even sound like me. I would try none the less. For two long hours I puttered through the dark trails criss crossing the swamp. All this was to no avail. No sign or sound of them was heard, and my desperate, pleading calls went un answered. It was very late when I got back home. My wife was still up and warmed my supper. She quietly watched me as I gulped down the food. I did not feel like talking, but I could see the questions in her eyes. She loved Elley too. She was hurting as well. I explained my failure to her. “What are you going to do” she asked. “ Reckon I’ll try and get some sleep, then go looking again at daylight”. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Despite this, rest would not come to me. Exhausted too, my wife had managed to fall asleep. I thought of all the trouble she went through staying up, worrying not just about Elley, but me as well. I remembered the concern and worry in her eyes. I remembered the words she had spoken as I was walking out the door to go search for Elley. “Travis, please be careful”. I just nodded and thought nothing else of it, but I thought of it now. I thought of Gods wisdom in creating woman. How rewarding life can be when his plan is followed. This was certainly a difficult time, but the presence of a loving wife to share in life’s ups and downs is one of Gods greatest blessings. Her presence makes the good times better, and she brings much comfort in times of difficulty. I also prayed fervently that night. Now when I go to the lord in prayer, I don’t often ask for selfish things, and this was indeed a selfish thing. After all, regardless of how much I loved her, Elley was only a dog. She had no immortal soul to save like you and I. Like so many times before, I would just have to rely on Gods grace and understanding. Mercifully, I somehow fell asleep after that, the deep, heavy sleep that leaves you with no sense of time having passed. I sprang up in the bed the next morning confused and disoriented. I had overslept, as the sun was already well up. Once coherent, I arose with a purpose. My wife had gotten up earlier and had a fine breakfast waiting. “Figured I’d let you sleep” she said with a smile as I emerged from the hall and walked into the kitchen. I smiled back and gave her a heart felt “Thank you”. Our son was up too. He was now 12 and old enough to be a real help. My wife had explained the situation to him last night and he was chompin at the bit to go search for Elley. Although very worried, a resolute determination had set in. Regardless of the outcome, we were going to do everything in our power to find Elley! She deserved nothing less! We gobbled down breakfast, gathered our gear, and out the door we went......

[Kevin Dill]

Regardless of how this ends, I'm in love with Elley.

Your way with words has me seeing all this right over your shoulder. Go find Elley....

[Swinestalker]

Regardless of how this ends, I'm in love with Elley.

Your way with words has me seeing all this right over your shoulder. Go find Elley....

  Thank you so much for the kind words. I intended to finish today, but I got called suddenly to write a last minute article for a local town. I will make every effort to get back at it tomorrow morning.