As we sat on the porch being warmed by the rising rays of the sun and sipped the morning java I found myself torn in three different directions. The company and conversation was as good as a man could hope to find and it was tempting to linger.
But this would be our last day at the Ryegrass, and the antelope had been at the water hole in mid morning yesterday. I wanted one last crack at them badly. And although I don't claim to be a hard core fisherman we had unrestricted access to world class trout fishing. To pass up an opportunity like that would border on foolish and I don't like to be thought a fool.
I wanted to do it all, and would try my best to squeeze it all into what time remained.
As I drove toward the pond the antelope seemed active and I passed a couple of bunches on the way.
As I pulled up to where I could see the pond there were already a half dozen of the speed goats near the water. I had lingered on the porch to long! They ran off as I slowed the truck to watch, and I could only hope that they hadn't yet had time to drink and might return later. I set a goal of staying for at least four hours to give them a fair chance to develop a thirst.
Activity was slow, but I remained alert, having learned my leason the previous day. The smell of sage brush is the essence of the west, and one of my favorite odors in the world. I crushed it between my fingers to release more of the sweetness and overloaded my olfactories.
Clouds drifted lazily overhead while a chipmunk scampered back and forth through my little hidey hole. A ground squirrel kept a watchful eye for trouble from the top of the dam. A sparrow lit breifly on my pant leg before apparantly realizing this bush wasn't quite right. The plains look barren from a distance, but there is plenty to see.
A flash of movement in the sage brush made my heart jump a beat. A badger appeared over the top of the dam, working its way down and around the waters edge, his regal cloak of gold and black shimmering in the sun. A special treat to a hunter from the badger State - could this be an omen?
Finally, shortly before noon, two does and a fawn appeared on the hillside to the north and began to give the pond a good looking over. After a number of false starts the lead doe couldn't take it any longer and came in on the run. She went straight to the water while the other doe and fawn began feeding on grass around the edge of the pond.
I was tucked in behind sage brush sitting on the ground. I rolled to my knees unseen and eased my bow into position. As the tension on the string began to bend the limbs the head of the doe in the water snapped to attention and before I could even think about it she blew out of the water and out of my life, taking her girl friends with her.
As Charlie would put it when I related the story to him later, she was 29" away from having a really bad day! But she won this contest, and although I did see other goats in the distance, they were the last to come to the water before I decided to pack it up.
There were fish to catch.
Topic: West of Eden (Read 2126 times)
