[Chunky]

tipping the bottle high enough so he sort of leaned down in the seat and the next thing you know, the truck is rolling over. This story made me feel much better, that and the fact that we made it across. The hunting was no better that day with no game sighted.

That night Mitch felt like he had evened the score and we had even bonded. He came over and sat beside me and started to open up to me. He was down wind so I stayed and tried to be polite. He told me that he had been up in the mountains since the first of August. He said he strongly suspected that he was wanted by the law, but was not a hundred percent sure. He was vague about the actual charges. He intended to stay until hunting season was over, and then if he had to do some time, well that would be okay. He said that he had a terrible year two years before when he “got in a little scrape” at the wrong time and spent all fall in the pokey. He said that involved his no-good brother and the worst part was there was a little window in his cell and he could look out. One late afternoon he heard honking and peered out. It was his brother who had killed a deer. The brother was driving Mitch’s truck, with Mitch’s new rifle, in the company of Mitch’s old woman! The brother was apparently using all these items without permission. It was then he decided to spend all of each fall hunting in the mountains.

The next day was the last in the bargain elk hunt. I was basically going with the flow. Mitch was in front doing his best to go at a slow pace. I was about thirty yards behind him where I could breathe, when I saw him drop to his knees and try to draw his bow. I got low and started forward as fast as I could. He was unable to get his bow to full draw. He let down and tried again. This time the arrow fell off the rest and the broadhead hung on the front of the shelf. I arrived and saw a few mule deer does staring at us from about thirty yards. I pulled back my longbow, but did not shoot. I felt like I could have hit the deer, but my heart said don’t take it. Mitch’s inability to shoot or even get his bow back to full draw sparked my curiosity. I asked him about last year. He said he had hunted every legal day. He had gotten two shots, but had not killed anything. I tried to look surprised.

They say you remember the bad times more vividly than the good. I don’t know about that, but I remember the elk hunt pretty well. I am not sorry I went, it was an adventure. That does not mean I want to do it again.