A trail of blood drops through shallow snow, crossing and re-crossing the trail from the Cabin to the clearing. At one point there is a big gout of red, before the trail heads off down through rocks, pine cones and brambles.
A mystery. Oliver sniffs all around the red pockmarks; if he knows, he can’t explain to humans.
A neighbor comes up with a possible story. Bow season on public land just ended. A wounded deer, a frantic flight from the hunter.
It’s not that I love deer so much, want to Bambi-ize them, we have too many for that. Their tracks are as thick across our land as the flakes in a snowstorm. But I can’t help but imagine this animal staggering under its injury, or bounding through the night, strong with adrenaline as its blood spills and its life seeps away. We have a healthy buck in our woods, and I wouldn’t want that to be his last trek.
One response to “Blood on the Tracks”
Point to consider: if a deer was the animal who left the drops it probably found somewhere to hide and either died, which is likely, or it survived and will heal. If it died then other animals, like foxes, skunks, badgers and wild cats will find the carcass and be fed for a month.
Bow hunters are, for the most part, a careful lot who try very hard to make each shot count. Unfortunately, deer are moving targets.
Sad to hear that some poor animal had to suffer.