SNAKE FOR TAT
A cold wind had made the mountain morning seem colder than it really was. I had been bundled up with gloves on my hands and a ski mask over my face all morning. The sun had been out for over and hour and I was just beginning to get warm. I stopped to remove my gloves and ski mask so I could have better control of my hunting rifle. I don't know what I would have done if I had jumped a deer with the gloves and ski mask. I wouldn't have been able to see the dam thing let alone shoot it. I was to cold to care. Now I was more into it. The sun had turned a shivering numskull into a mighty hunter. At least that's what I was thinking at the time. Now I could rally get into it. I was going to get the big one. I was going to get the trophy deer. I was edging my way along a hill side of small sage brush and scattered cedar trees. I was moving slowly, alert for any movement or sound down in the gully or across the canyon on the opposite hillside. My leg brushed up against a sage brush and I heard a rattling sound. At first I thought it was the brush rubbing against my pants, but when I looked down, there was a small rattle snake, coiled and shaking his rattles at me. No big deal, a small rattler, a mighty hunter with a mighty deer rifle. That snake would make a great hat band. Fortunately for the snake, I panicked. I ran. I was forty yards down the mountain, my heart beating wildly, my head thumping and a cold sweat running down my back, before I got control of myself. To this day I will swear on a stack of bibles that I could hear that tiny little rattler laughing at me. I didn't bother to tell my hunting buddies about the snake. And, yep, you guessed it. I did not get a deer either.