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June 01, 2006
Coming Of Age
I was twelve years old and eager to prove that I was a man.
We moved silently through the bush stopping every now and then to listen.
I was nervous.
Very nervous.
I had never killed an animal before.
The waiting was agony.
Every crackle in the bush sent waves of adrenaline through my body.
Then we saw it.
The most beautiful antelope I had ever laid eyes on.
The men and boys in my group encouraged me with urgent whispers.
"That's it."
"What a beauty."
"Right between the eyes, Trev."
"Take it down, brother."
The animal sensed something in the air and turned to look at us.
I had a clear shot. Right between the eyes.
I raised the rifle. Placed the cross hairs right between the creatures beautiful eyes.
Not only did I slowly squeeze the trigger, I also squeezed my whole body, which resulted in an instant whoosh of gas from my exhaust vent.
The group was so surprised by the retort from my jeans that they burst into laughter.
The joviality spooked the antelope who darted off into the bush.
Thank God.
The gaseous exchange saved me from killing a stunningly beautiful animal just to prove that I was a man.
If killing things is supposed to make you a real man, then I am not a real man, because that was the first and last time I ever went hunting.
Apparently God does have a sense of humor.
Posted by trevor at June 1, 2006 02:40 PM
Comments
Hi,
Hunting is fine if one needs to provide the basics for family and community, but I'm priviledged to have the luxury of learning such skills simply to take photos. It is an activity I would highly recommend to anyone needing to prove themselves as courageous skillful hunters. You can "be a man" without destroying the beauty, though I've never understood how a male could be anything but a man.
Posted by: gladys at June 1, 2006 10:54 PM