The Hunters

My introduction to hunting came when I was probably around eight years old. My Uncle Merle took Me rabbit hunting, I don't remember if I actually killed a rabbit, but I do remember Uncle Merle showing Me how to clean them. I can't say that I liked the idea of killing those rabbits but I can't remember being freaked out by it either. It was a learning experience, and We did eat them. My next encounter with hunting came when I was eleven or twelve years old. My friend Ralph got a 22 rifle for christmas that year and I went with them when His Dad took Him on His first hunting trip. The hunt consisted of shooting any bird that was in range and leaving them lay. Ralph and His Dad were especially fond of killing hawks and crows. I don't remember how many birds Ralph killed that day but I do remember the feeling of sadness that came over Me when I realized what had happened. The so called hunting trip was killing for the sake of killing, not for food, not for trophys, just senseless killing. We left those beautiful creatures dead on the ground and drove back to town. I never went hunting with Ralph again.