The Broken Rifle
Copyright© 2024 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 1
Hunting Elk in season, I got medium lost. Water flows downhill and my house is in the valley. I didn’t know where I was but I heard running water. I may have to call Davey to get back to my van but I headed toward the sound. My .30.30 Contender was in my homemade shoulder holster. I’m glad I had it ... any of my shoulder arms would have never allowed me to go where I went, find what I found and carry it out.
I’d been there before ... once ... and ten times. I’d shot an elk across the gorge and it took ten days to carry it out ... in eighths ... quarters were too heavy. I had no business being there I knew what might happen.
Ah ... the gorge ... it’s almost a thousand feet straight down from where I shot the elk to the dead elk that was only a hundred and fifty feet away. It would have been fine ... if the elk had had the courtesy to die where he was shot ... but ... no ... the bastard flinched and ended about three quarters of the way down ... across from me. And even then I’d have a look ... decide to pretend I didn’t shoot it ... but the game warden saw it, wandered over to where I was standing, looked down and said, “Whooboyhowdy ... that is going to be a bitch getting out of there. Let me see your license.”
So ... I had it to do ... and I did.
It was some years later when I was standing in the same place, saw an elk and didn’t shoot ... this time. When I was down there last time I noticed a slight rock fall and at the top of the fall was a dark spot and I remember thinking... ‘I need to look at that.’ I didn’t ... then ... now I remembered thinking I should look. Over the few years since the hike(s) the slight rock fall had fallen more and the dark spot was visible from the gorge rim. Well ... visible with my binoculars.
‘Welp ... No time like the present.’
Somebody needs to remind me that that thought is inappropriate at my age. I thought I was over the “Hold my beer and watch this” stage of Darwinism. Evidently I wasn’t.
I could see where I went down the first time and the holds were still there.
At the bottom I jumped across the rivulet and moseyed over to the rock fall, slipped and slid my way to the top and stepped over the edge. I remembered ... distinctly ... thinking when the last time I used my flashlight it was getting dim. And did I change batteries?
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.