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Lost ! -
a Tall Tale
I often go out hunting with my buddies and
through the years we have developed several techniques to prevent ourselves from getting lost in the woods if we
get separated. However, the best made plans sometimes go arrye. This particular time I was the one who almost didn't
return from the moose hunt.
This happened before the days of quads and trikes and the like. When we went out hunting it was go as far as you
could with your two wheel drive and then hoof the rest of the way. Normally we split into pairs, one of our preventive
methods to getting lost. This particular day, there were five of us out hunting and rather than split the group
2 and 3, I decided that I would go it alone. I knew the area very well. It was decided that if anyone needed help,
he would fire two shots, wait a few seconds and then fire a third.
It was just past dawn on this cold November morning that I headed out into the bush. I followed a few cutlines
to an area where I had previously seen a lot a track and fresh sign. Today, there was very little encouragement.
No new sign, no fresh rubs or scrapes. I had tried calling along the way but got no response. I did not think this
odd as the rut was pretty much over and done with. I scouted throughout my familiar territory and then, after having
no luck there I decided that I should check out some newer territory. It was just past lunch and we were not meeting
back at the vehicles until six o'clock.
I found a cutline that I hadn't explored before and headed down that. It looked promising. About two o'clock I
heard some thrashing in the trees and thought it might be worth investigating. Heading through the thick forest
was no easy chore. I broke off branches about every fifty feet to mark my trail for the return. Finally I came
to a clearing which had a great willow thicket on the far side. I checked it out through my scope and could see
that the moose had been through here recently. I walked over to the far side of the opening and found fresh, steaming
moose sign. Great. Here is where I would find a good hiding place and wait for him to return. I knew that I had
only about an hour and I'd have to head back to the vehicles. I found the perfect advantage point, downwind from
Mr. Moose.
Time was running out and suddenly, as it often does, the wind changed direction. Now I knew that there would be
very little chance of my shooting this moose. Along with the wind came a light snow fall so I thought perhaps I
should start back. As I made my way back through the forest, the snow got heavier and the wind increased to the
point where it was very difficult to see where I was going and impossible to detect the markers I had left. The
temperature was quickly dropping. I was dressed warmly but I still felt the sting of the wind on my face and my
hands were beginning to feel quite cold. I was fairly sure of my direction so kept walking.
I glanced at my watch - 5:10. It would be very dark, very soon. Alberta's twilight time is not long once November
hits. I picked up my pace. Finally, I came out onto the cutline and breathing a sigh of relief, I started down
that. Very shortly I would be in familiar territory - or so I thought.
After half an hour of walking into the stinging wind and swirling snow, I realized that this was not the cutline
I had taken. It was time to shoot and get help. I fired two quick shots, waited a few seconds and then fired a
third. Anxiously I waited for the answering shots - nothing - not a sound. Time to build a shelter and start a
warm fire. That would be a task under these conditions. The shelter I constructed from spruce boughs was not great
but it offered some resistance to the wind and I was able to get a fire started from deadwood which was plentiful.
As I sat down, I poured the last cup of coffee from my thermos, and pondered over my situation.
I needed to wait out the storm and hope that my buddies were out looking for me. I thought I would fire the signal
shots at hour intervals but didn't have enough ammo on me to keep that up for too long. Then it came to me -- a
piece of advice that my grandfather had given me years before. He said you could never get lost if you had a deck
of cards and since then I did carry a deck of cards with me everywhere. I dug through my many-pocketed hunting
vest and pulled out my deck of cards. Under my shelter I dealt out the cards. Grandfather was right. I had only
played a brief time when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Couldn't you put that black jack on the red queen?" |
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