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Narrativeessay about hunting
Narrative essay on hunting
Narrative essay on hunting
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Recently Owen Aerts has been hunting. Owen had shot a 6 point buck. He went hunting to manage the deer population in Lakewood Wisconsin where there was a lot of deer hunters out in the woods on that day ,but Owen got a buck. A lot of people just went out in the woods and sat next to a tree.
Cole grabs his shotgun and settles the sight on the shoulder and as he squeezes the trigger a click , Cole for got to chamber a shell. With a quick movement cole jacks a shell into the chamber. The buck stops and stares into Cole’s eyes and bolts Cole put the barrel out the Window of the blind and gets on the deer and with a loud meah stops the deer to a trot and Cole takes a breath and pow! As the smoke cleared Cole scanned the wood edge for any sign of the deer when his eye come across brown Cole picked up his head and there standing in the field staring back at him is the 12 pointer that has eluded Cole all season. Not knowing if he hit the buck there is nothing Cole could do besides watch the giant buck.
Ma Deeters It was an early Saturday morning, when just Dad, Grandma, and I were awake. Dad and I were trying to figure out where to go on the four wheeler. There was little puddles everywhere. The yard still had really cold, wet, dew on the ground. The sun was coming up so bright we didn’t need any lights.
The hunt opened at 6:50. We climbed into the stand and got everything ready, 45 minutes later a deer stood in my shooting lane. I pulled up the gun and my heart was thumping. I found the deer in the scope and slowly pulled the trigger... he then kicked up.
He pulled up put the sight about a inch in front of the bird pushed the safety off and pulled the trigger. BANG. The bird fell out of the sky as a huge smile fell across his face. THE
The Shot When I was 1 year old my mother first described to me about the dangers of hunters. “That they are strange beings, and that don’t care about us at all… That is how your father died” my mother said, as my mother was telling me this a tear fell down my eye, and I felt like I would never feel happiness again. I was 8 months old when it happened. My father was down at the pond about a quarter of a mile away from where we lived. I remember it like it was just yesterday.
Ben Bartlett Ellis English 1 27 November 2017 Placeholder Owen sat in his hunting spot, waiting patiently. It had been three days since he had last eaten. He was looking through the scope, when he suddenly heard rustling in the bushes. A deer sauntered out of the bush and gave Owen a wide open shot.
We were waiting for these turkeys to come out right in front of us and I was ready to shoot. We weren 't sure if the turkeys were down yet but the first turkey was so we figured they were too. They kept gobbling to each other and racking off in the woods. The trees were shaking and we were getting nervous. Those turkeys never came but they were still in the trees just chilling.
I dig with the toe of my boot through crusted snow and uncover his gray stone. Kneeling, I chip ice with a window scraper from the grooves of his name. I look into the wind. Grandpa, I see a buck in the maple stand at the far corner of the cemetery.
Then we began to gather our stuff and leave the hunting blind. We started walking to the first deer I shot and saw it was a direct hit to the heart and was an instant kill. But, the other one wasn’t that easy, we had to track its blood trail. Although, we did end up finding it shortly after, my uncle was right, a lung shot. So we went back to his house and got the four wheeler, so it would be easier to drag them out.
Time passes by without seeing any animals and then at sunset two does and one fawn creep by the apple tree my heart start beating like a drum the cold weather becomes hot. I very slowly rest my gun on the rail kneel on my chair peek through the scope and very carefully place the crosshairs on the doe that does not have a fawn. When the crosshairs are on directly where the deers vitals are located I very slowly squeeze the trigger. After the shot the deer takes off. Then I sit and wait in my stand for only twenty minutes but it feels like years.
I I sat there searching through my phone looking to see if any other people shot a deer. Then I heard it. I quickly shut off my phone and set it down. Louder crunching came from the bottom of the ridge. Once again I set my gun on my lap and waited.
It was a spike, on its way from the brushy hillside. I put the crosshair behind its front shoulder and tried to shoot. “I can’t pull the trigger,” I told my dad.
I am in a Jeep driving around with my cousin and the guide, when I heard a gunshot in the distance. Around five minutes later the guide’s radio kicks up and we hear our step cousin had shot something. We agree to meet up with the other group, which includes my step cousin. We pulled up to their car and got out to inspect the deer she had shot. They open the trunk to reveal a small deer, which, once again, was barely old enough to shoot.
I knew from getting out of my red dodge truck, seeing black clouds covering the sky, it was going to be a hectic hunting day. Justin, Dad, Orlando, Jake, Emily, Rob, and I, were all getting ready to start the journey to the skinny pond on the outskirts of Salem. While everyone was either getting waiters or thick, puffy, big, strap pants, Izzy their black hunting lab was sniffing the place out. We got out hand lights or headlights turned on, locked both trucks. We started to head out to the Skinny pond.