A few minutes later I was donned in a new cloak made of dark green and brown leather, with rough leather pants that had many pockets and straps for weapons and supplies, along with a black shirt. If I had some leather armor, I would look like what Id magazine rangers would look like in fantasy stores, and I quite liked the feel and look of it.
Following Hatchet, we started jogging toward the forest. And this is when Teacher Hatchet reappeared. "First lesson: how not to be so darn loud while running. First things first—perception and awareness. These are some of the most basic and important things, not just for this but for almost everything you will do or learn. But for this, you need to look, not just in front of you. You need to look at what is below, above, and to your sides, and even behind you, and you need to do it fast and constantly. You need to see the path ahead. You memorize your path and the obstacles in your way. When you look down, you take note of every twig, leaf, and pebble. And you make split-second decisions from that information—where to step to have solid footing, where to step to make less noise, where to step to minimize your traces, and where to step to not throw off your balance. When looking to your sides, you look for information. You look at the trees or walls, judge distances and how it could affect your situation. You look for unexpected variable attacks, aid—anything and everything. And when you look behind you, you look for danger, and if there is danger, you take in everything—the distance, the reach of this danger, its pace, and everything else. If there is no immediate danger, you look and take note of the track you did leave behind, and then you think. Think of how you could use the tracks against whatever you are running from—and you are always running from something. Right now we are running from Mother Time, trying to steal as much as we can. But there will be times where the threat of what we're running from is more immediate, and when that happens, you want every piece of information that can help you. Understand?" he said, taking a quick look at me while we kept our pace.
I gave him a nod.
"Good. Now this is how you place your feet, and you want to loosen up and take note of your diaphragm and the related muscles so you can gain better muscle control. Those muscles are what help you breathe. The more oxygen you get, the clearer you will see, the more energy your cells will get, the clearer your head will be."
Hatchet's lessons continued until we passed into the forest and came to a small clearing. Coming to a stop, I started to catch my breath, but thanks to the daily training I wasn't that winded, though Hatchet wasn't even breathing irregularly. Noticing my gaze, he turned to me.
"Ok kid, the hunting starts now. Take a look around and tell me what you see."
Taking one last deep breath, I stepped up next to Hatchet and started to observe the surroundings closely. "The ground over here looks torn up slightly." Walking over, I crouched down to take a closer look. "I think these are some kind of deer tracks, though there are quite a lot of tracks, so I don't know which direction they left toward."
"Good. Look here, Cain," Hatchet said while getting down next to me. "See how these tracks here have a sharp outline, unlike this one here? This one is more rounded and softened. This is a pretty good way to tell if the tracks are old or not. These here with the rounder edges are older because of the wind and rain and other factors wearing away at them. And these tracks are new enough that the elements have not had time to take their toll. Also note that the newer tracks have a dark color. It still has moisture that the sun hasn't dried up. Now look for these tracks and follow them."
"Yes, sir." Nodding, I started to trace the tracks.
While I was tracking, Hatchet pointed out new types of signs, like if the grass is cut at irregular heights where the deer eat, and how the bushes were relatively sparse for this time of the year. Around 30 minutes into his tips and corrections, he stopped me from continuing.
"Ok kid, you did good. They're close. I stopped you here to tell you the plan. Soon the forest will open up to the river, and judging by the tracks, the deer should be there. We are going up to the tree line very slowly and quietly. Remember how I taught you to sneak around and use your cloak. As long as you stay still, you will be surprised how easy it is to fade into the background. After we get there, you set up and take a shot. I'll be a backup shot. And remember—never go for the calves or the mother," he said, giving me a sharp look.
"Yes, sir," I replied.
"Good. Reminder: nature is a wonderful thing. It will provide for you, but if you disrespect her, she will kill you. Ok, let's go."
We reached the tree line after three minutes of quietly tracing the tracks. I took cover behind a tree and a bush while Hatchet moved down west of me to get another angle. Luckily, we were both downwind of the deer.
Slowly peeking out, I assessed the situation by the river. There were four deer—three does and one buck. The does were drinking in the river while the buck stood watch. While assessing, I noticed that one doe was showing signs of pregnancy. Her abdomen was noticeably larger than the rest, and she seemed more unstable on her legs. This naturally ruled her out as a target. It also meant I did not want to shoot the buck because it had the ability to breed, so this left the choice between the last two does. Choosing the one closer to me because I had a better angle on it, I took a deep breath and readied my bow.
I slowly drew an arrow from my quiver, knocked it, and, neither moving too fast nor too slow, stepped out from behind the tree, raising and pulling back on the 60 lb draw force of the string and took my stance. Just as I fully got into position, the buck seemed to sense something because it looked over in my direction. And for five seconds that felt like an eternity, I thought it noticed me. But remembering what Hatchet said about how to be unseen, I stayed perfectly still, allowing the bush, the shadow of the tree beside me, and the cloak to all do their part and keep me unseen.
And it worked.
The buck looked away, not raising any alarms. As soon as it looked away, I aimed, took a breath, released half of it, and then let the string slip off my fingers. I watched the arrow fly, not missing anything. I noticed the path of the arrow, instinctively knowing that I did not miss. I saw the buck flinch and the does starting to raise their heads, but it was all too late. With a low thump, the arrow penetrated the doe right behind its left shoulder, where it pierced the lung and, if I was lucky, maybe even the heart.
This all happened in slow motion in my eyes. But as soon as the arrow hit, everything sped back up. The other deer jerked and froze for a half second, then they ran downstream and back into the forest. The doe I shot tried to follow, but after a few steps, another arrow suddenly sprouted out of its neck, severing its spinal cord, and on the next step it took, it collapsed dead.
Making my way to the felled doe, I looked at it in surprise. I knew Hatchet was a good hunter, but hitting a moving deer in the neck—even if the deer was already hit—took a lot more skill than most hunters have. If Hatchet wasn't a man, I would have thought he was a former member of the Artemus Familia.
Though I had some distracting thoughts, they couldn't fully distract me from the strange melancholy I was feeling. It wasn't hate or disgust at taking a life; it wasn't even guilt. It was just the acknowledgment that I ended something living, and how its life was given to help and aid mine and others' lives. Because of that, it deserved a tremendous amount of respect. And it was odd because I did—I respected it more than almost anybody from my past life. I knew this even though I can't remember the people.
But it was sad that this deer did more to earn my respect than almost anybody in my last life. Though there is a small group of shadowed figures in my mind that did more than even the deer that gave its life for me. The thought of those figures brought a gut-wrenching grief with it, and even without knowing their faces or names, I knew they were people I considered family—family that I lost and failed at some point.
But with this grief came a burning resolve to never lose family again. It gave me the strength to stand, to find, care for, and protect a new family.
With all these thoughts and emotions filling me, I reached the fallen deer and Hatchet, who had appeared next to it sometime during my thoughts.
"Good shot, kid," Hatchet said, examining the carcass. "You pierced the lung and almost hit the heart. Much better than my first time."
While talking, Hatchet removed the arrows. After they were removed, he bowed his head and whispered under his breath for a few seconds. After he finished, I asked, "What was that?"
He looked back at me with a soft smile. "I'm just sending him off with my well wishes. It's the least we can do for him after all."
Nodding in understanding, I also bowed my head and wished the doe safe travels wherever she was now traveling.
After the moment of silence, Hatchet went back to teaching mode and started showing me the correct knives and cuts to make to field dress the deer. His teaching went on, and I let every piece of information flow into the void of my head, where I felt each piece of knowledge found somewhere to latch on and stick.
After he finished showing me and had me help him field dress the doe, he effortlessly hoisted it over his shoulder and started walking back the direction we came.
"Come on, Cain. I'll show you where my rabbit traps are while we head back."
Letting out a small smile, I said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming."