The goliath stood there, behind the barrel taking in his surroundings. He dwarfed that 55 gallon barrel like it was a puppy’s chew toy next to a English Mastiff. His coat was a magnificent midnight black, shimmering in the twilight, glistening. His head was perched on his massive shoulders like a boulder atop mountain. There was no neck, just muscle, bone, sinew, and size that only comes with maturity.
Unease set in again and he bounded back into the woods, flanking the open lane and staying well protected. Then he stopped. It was as if he suddenly remembered He was the biggest bear in the woods. He was not going to cower. He was going to eat “something”.
Back down the lane he came, in the open but near the protection the trees offered. He stopped five yards behind the barrel and raised up. On his hind legs he could now peer into that dark pine up ahead. He would look eye to eye at his contender. His head was now at my chest level, his snout and horrible jaws at the level of my heart, which was beating out of my chest. He took a long gaze, turning his head from side to side to get a different angle and better size up the Other. The markings on the tree next to his ear were nine and ½ feet off the ground.
I told you this boy was BIG!
Sure that he held the advantage, he once again approached the barrel. He pawed it. He shook it with ease like a Globetrotter rolling a basketball. Moving in front of the barrel he knelt down on all fours and nosed the opening. I tensed the string.
Topic: Stickflingers, last week...rookies, big bears, and bloody arras. (Read 8483 times)
