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Running with "The Bull"

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I’ve always been sort of a trader. I would rather trade than sell any day. It was the mid 70’s and the compound bow was making a mark in the archery community. It was the “future” of bow hunting and everyone had to have one.

Not me. Matter of fact, I kind of profited a little by the influx of compound bows in the local stores. One store was K-Mart. They stocked their new bows for the upcoming archery season and they were all compounds. Last year’s recurve bows sat in the corner in a bin with a price tag of $20.00 each.

Well, I had a job and, upon seeing this bin, I quickly purchased their last three bows which consisted of a Bear Panther, a Ben Pearson, and a Bear Kodiak. I instantly started shooting the Kodiak and the other two adorned my bedroom wall.

Ken, a good friend and hunting buddy, came over and immediately wanted to own the Ben Pearson. Now, knowing that Ken had an uncle who owned a farm in North Jersey, it was time to trade. We settled the deal for $20.00 and a guaranteed North Jersey farm deer hunt in the fall.

Fall soon came and we loaded up his truck and headed north. It was a pleasant trip as we drove on the Pennsy side up to Washington’s crossing then to Frenchtown. I’ll be darned; it was a real farm with corn, wheat, silos, and a bull, a big, black mean bull with long horns.

Saturday morning found us splitting up, Ken went into the hardwoods and I ventured in the opposite direction, bow in hand hoping to sneak up on a deer. It was a beautiful fall morning, a slight chill and a breeze in my face. I slowly worked my way up and around the hedgerows hoping to find an unsuspecting young buck. That did not happen, but I was amused for close to an hour watching this doe with her three fawns. The spots were almost completely gone but even a greenhorn like me could tell they were fawns. Maybe it was the way they were chasing each other around the corner of the field or maybe it was the way they jumped straight up in the air for no reason, it sure was a great morning.

Ken and I met at the farm for lunch and talked of our morning adventures. We soon finished and decided on how to set up for the evening hunt. We decided to cross the pasture and head down to the stream that came down from the mountains.

We headed toward the pasture and I noticed a mess of cows at the far end. Those critters must have been two, maybe three hundred yards away. “Ken, what happens if the bull comes charging us?” Ken replied “Ah, don’t worry about it. This is what you do. Stand your ground; wait till the bull gets about five feet away, and then jump to the side. He’ll run right by you and you go the other way.” I responded “Oh, okay.”

We jumped the fence, bows in hand and started our little trek across the pasture that the cows called home; the cows and one big, black, mean Bull. About the middle of the pasture, I mention to Ken that the bull is coming our way. He reminded me what he had told me, if the bull charges. “Oh, okay.”

I just happen to turn and about 50 yards away Mr. Bull (capitalized for a reason) starts pawing the ground and snorting. Bulls snort? I thought that was only in the movies. I stand there, Ken behind me, standing my ground.

Mr. Bull starts off at a slow sort of trot; he then speeds up, much like my adrenalin level. “Ken, Ken, the bull is charging.” No response. “Ken, the (can’t say these words) bull is charging.” No response. I turn around and my good buddy Ken is hoofing it half way to the other side of the fence, bow in hand.

It did not take me long to figure out that it was time to get out of Dodge, quickly. So I start running. Ken is yelling, “Don’t turn around,” just like in the movie Jaws. I ran harder than I have ever run in my life, bow in hand. It was a short flight. Neither one of us knows if I managed to jump over the barbed wire fence on my own or not, but I did clear it, very nicely. I don’t really know if Ken saw the whole thing because all I saw of him was how he was doubled over laughing so hard that he could hardly talk.

Moral of the story: I don’t know. But I’m never hunting dangerous game with him. He can outrun me.

FVR published TBG

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