The
Wise Whitetail of Northwest Indiana
I knew the rustling leaves off in
the distance would catch the man’s attention. I watched as he reached for his weapon of
choice. Hanging from a cut branch, high in the tree, the bearded face grasped
his bow. His bum knee and lack of coordination created an alarming popping
noise, but I didn't run just yet. There it was again, the sound he’d heard
before. It was closer now, a steady stream of steps coming this way. Then she
appeared, broad side and beautiful, a lovely doe. Her broad white chest stuck
out when she sniffed the air. I knew what he is thinking. What a delicious slab of meat for my table. I cannot bear to watch
this any longer. Is there nothing I can do? I ducked my heavy head under the
thick brush I had concealed myself in and took a somber walk back across the
gravel road and into the sanctuary.
I gathered my herd, minus one, under
an abandoned lean to, out of the wind, so I could report what I saw. “Listen
closely everyone.” They knew what was coming. This wasn't the first time I’d
had to report a loss. “Jade is no longer with us… She was killed today by the
bearded man.” The usual hush fell over the group as I continued on, “Now I know
it is that time of year, when we need to move around often, and eat more to
stay warm, but it’s dangerous over there. We all know it!”
“I agree with you Split,” it was
York’s mother, the doe that had been killed, “I don’t want to cross the road
ever again.”
“And you shouldn't have to,” I
replied. “I’m sure York is not the only one, let’s take a vote. All who agree
gather near the fallen Oak. All who are opposed…”
“Not so fast Split!” My father had
risen from his bed and was limping towards us. His gray head and sagging back
show his old age, but the amount knowledge he has stored in
his antlers is massive. His very presence makes a strong coyote stop in his
tracks. “This is an observed accusation! If we do not cross the gravel road
then we will overpopulate and run out of room in the one place we are safe! The
sanctuary will no longer be a place of escape! We will run out of food sources
and the stream will run dry!” I couldn't help but lower my head at his
scolding.
“Forgive me Father,” my voice was
shaking now, “I just cannot stand to watch another one of us lose our lives by
the speeding arrow of the bearded man.”
“We have been crossing that road from
the beginning of time. The truth is this. We all have a destined time and place
to die. We cannot change that.”
My wise old father was killed that fall and
mounted proudly on the bearded man’s wall. In my anger I ignored what my father
had said. I pushed the decision on my herd, to never cross that road again. And
just as my father had said, we overpopulated; our food source was plucked
clean, and the stream dried up. Many of us were struck down by powerful driving
machines, the newborns starved, and the elderly withered away into dust. I knew
that I had been wrong. I gathered those who were strong enough and together we
crossed the gravel road.
Theme:
My overall message behind this story is to listen and respect those who are
older and wiser then ourselves.
No comments:
Post a Comment