The Hunter

The autumn season was just around the corner and that meant end to the gaming season. He had better make up his mind if he wanted to avail the opportunity. He did not go last year as well, but that was because of the devastating episode that had happened last year. His life had had the greatest shock when he lost his wife of forty-four years earlier that year. Initially, he felt like dying with her, but slowly and gradually he came to grips with the new reality and learned to go about his life without her.

Time indeed proved to be a healer of some sort so that a year later he thought of resuming his favourite hobby, hunting game. His beloved wife had accompanied him on his trips to the mountains in all but a few occasions. She passed away after battling a chronic ailment for over four years that had the better of her in the end and took away the love of his life. More than anything, it was her firm belief in God and his divine wisdom that gave her the strength to bear everything. His own faith got revived for the better as the bitter truth of death made him accept the ultimate fate that awaited all, and the temporariness of the chattel and play called life.

Finally, he decided to go. He packed light for he did not plan to stay up there for long. Normally, when he went with her, they stayed at least a week; especially after his retirement. He remembered to take drinking water and some bakery stuff, which were always on his wife’s check list. The drive was approximately one and a half hour. He liked to travel early. It avoided the tourist traffic as well as the rush at the eateries along the way. He made one break journey at his favourite brasserie, and had his usual breakfast of omelet and fried chapatti. He reached the hut much before noon and that gave him ample time to clean up the place, fill up the overhead water tank and catch an afternoon nap. Next morning, he had to leave before dawn so he readied his stuff and hit the bed early. Thoughts of his wife came back anew in this place and it was a while before he went to sleep.

He checked his gear, picked up his Winchester 70 rifle and the back pack, and stepped outside. The early morning chill and the anticipation of the game built up the excitement. He usually never locked the door behind him but this morning he did. Once or twice a year he came to this place for hunting and relaxing in the nature. The hut was bought by his dad in good old days when there was hardly any population and the prices were cheap. It was only an hour or more drive from his city house and located in the mountain range that started in the northeast. Now the forestation was depleting and so was the game, but he came up once in a while just for serenity if not the game.

As he charted his way through the woods, he began to feel the same excitement that he always did and which kept all hunters going for it. But this time his mind kept drifting between previous visits and the game he was going to hunt at the moment. He was visiting the place only after acceptance of the reality of living on without a life partner; with the hope that his old passion for hunting may pave the way for normalcy. This time around he knew there would be no breakfast waiting for him when he returned. No discussions on the purpose of his hobby that was hunting, or arguments over his habits of leaving things half done. The void left by his life partner was not to be filled by anything in heavens and earth and he tried to cope with it as soberly as possible.

It was still half an hour to dawn. He walked towards the lake which was slightly less than half an hour further down the trek. A climb of ten minutes followed by a decent to the lake where he hoped to find game in the early hours, around the break of dawn. That would leave him with just enough time to settle in and wait for the animals to start arriving at the water front. His quota allowed him one game per year, and he had none for the last two years. In fact, none for the past couple of years. Once he got a puma but that was almost a decade ago and they were rare to find and hunt – now also banned for hunting since categorized as endangered species. The most common game were deer, which were frequent and many.

As he settled down in the shrubs and readied his rifle, his mind was getting focused, but his heart was somewhat somber. The thrill of the game that got all hunters going was finally there but deep down it felt as if he was performing a ritual that was not common place. He put the round in the bolt action rifle that was considered a classic. Looked around to see anything unusual but didn't; it was breaking dawn and he was past seventy so eyesight took time settling in. He sat there motionless and his mind drifted to his wife, who always kept him going and pushed him forward whenever he felt reluctant. She was hearty and spendthrift and lavishly treated anyone who came in contact with her; quite the opposite to what he was. She complimented him perfectly.

With the first light, few animals started pouring in and he readied himself for a deer to appear. He only had to wait ten minutes when a stout stag appeared at the near end. He was excited now and totally focused on his would be trophy. He readied his rifle, while fully lying down on his belly, put the sight on the animal now in view in the crossbars. The animal adjusted itself and stood still over the water. He knew he had only a moment before it moved away so he put the aim steady and moved the finger over the trigger. At last, he could feel his heart beating faster as adrenal pumped in. Just then a female deer moved into view alongside the stag. They touched their muzzles in affection and then put their mouths to water.

The next few moments he lay there in the same position and kept watching the pair. His finger eased upon the trigger and raised his head from the gunsight. The thoughts crossing his mind had never crossed before. He was taking lives that he had not begotten. Must power take life rather than facilitate one. How was he driving pleasure out of it all these years? A stream of similar thoughts occupied his mind that suddenly brought forth a new reality towards life. A few moments later the animals moved away and then disappeared into the woods.

He sat up and turned around towards some noise from the bushes to his right. Just then, the bushes parted and a full grown Himalayan bear appeared, some twenty yards away. It stood up to display its full might and then charged towards him. He fired the only round in the gun at point blank range, which stopped the beast with a thud. He reloaded and fired another into the lying beast to make sure the animal was dead. He stood there shaking for what seemed ages, envisioning the sight before him and the thought of his fate had he fired at the deer. He packed his stuff and went back to the cottage, informed the gamekeepers, and drove away the same afternoon. He returned to the mountain retreat almost every year but never went for hunting, for the rest of his life.