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"I am now a bow hunter,"
he said. "I will slip through
trees
during late November snows,
stalking the silent brown deer."
"And will you eat what you kill?"
I asked. "Of course,"
he answered.
"It is the way I was taught
by my father, and the way
I will teach my two children."
"But why not the gun?" I
asked.
He laughed. "It is too easy
to kill the deer with a gun.
But with a bow, all becomes
a matter of skill and
stealth."
Then he shouldered his long bow,
and slipped into the
twilight.
