"The fact is that there is enough food in the world for everyone. But
tragically, much of the world's food and land resources are tied up in
producing beef and other livestock--food for the well off--while
millions of children and adults suffer from malnutrition and
starvation." -- Dr.Walden Bello


"There is no force powerful enough to stem the tide of an idea whose
time has come. We can no longer, in good conscience or in good health,
continue to use animals for food." -- Source Unknown

"Tofu Guy" > wrote in message
om...
I'll never forget killing my first Hog. It was a gorgeous fall day.
One of those days where the blue sky seems to go on forever
and the brilliant sunshine is the perfect opposite of the chilly wind.
I decided to use my Dads old Tree Stand for a blind and took
up my post with expectations of getting a nice Buck.

Midway through the morning, a Feral Hog came sniffing at the
apples and corn I had scattered in the clearing.
It was a BIG Hog too. It weighed nearly 220 pounds and
dressed out to over 175 pounds.
It walked directly under my hiding spot intent on an apple lying there.
That tough old ******* thought he was going to eat. HA!
I put an Arrow right between his shoulders. It had a new 185 Grain
Broadhead on the business end I had proudly made myself.
The arrow didn't kill him though, it went though and was sticking
out of his chest a good ten or twelve inches.
Squealing, he went running off through the brambles tripping on the shaft
sticking out of him, the tip of the arrow dragging the ground and catching
on brambles and twisting in him as he tried to flee.

Well part of Bow Hunting is chasing the wounded beast so I
climbed down and began to track the blood trail. You can't use a gun
during Bow Season so my armaments consisted of my Bow and Arrows,
a Machete' and a big fixed blade knife.

I caught up with the Hog after tracking him for about a half mile.
He was laying on his side, hung up in some grapevine with blood
blowing out of his mouth and nose. He seemed very weak.
The spot was too brushy for me to draw my Bow for a head shot
or get a good swing at the back of his neck,
so I began to hack at the grapevine and brambles with my Machete'.

Suddenly, he bolted to his feet and charged.
All I could do was spear at him with my Machete' and until I backed
into a spot where I had room to take a good swing.
The first swing was a good one. The end of the blade caught him
between the eyes and sank in deeply. He stopped in his tracks
and dropped to the ground. I tried to pull the blade free but the
Machete' was stuck in his forehead!

To my astonishment the blow failed to dispatch him. He rose to his
feet again and after backing off a few steps, he charged.

What a sight this was. A hog that weighed over two hundred pounds
with a machete sticking out of his forehead, an arrow sticking out of his
chest,
charging and blowing blood from his mouth and nose as he came.
It was Hell and the Devil himself!
I scrambled backwards and was now down defending myself with my knife.
I had it pulled but I tripped and lost it as I fell . Now I'm on my ass,
trying to get back up and the Hog seems to tower over me.
Only a few feet away now, at a full head of steam.
Now I know what terror is.

I thought he had me, but the arrow caught on a root as he
charged and he fell on his side, legs pumping to get upright again.
As he tried to right himself, I grabbed up a large chunk of flint lying
near me with both hands and, with a move I will probably never
be able to make again without the adrenalin, struck him in the neck
with all my might. His blood spewed in crimson arcs for a dozen feet
in all directions as he thrashed.
His blood covered me and the surrounding brush.
He succumbed rapidly to the blood loss and his struggling lessened.
I succumbed to my exhaustion and fell to my knees.
Then there we were, only a couple of feet separating us,
looking into each others eyes. There was a communication that is
difficult to describe, an understanding of the struggle and its
implications.
He let go and I held on.
His life for the proliferation of mine.
He was the one more experienced with this. He was the one that had
bitten the life out of other living beings, filled his mouth with their
still beating hearts and had tasted their warm blood as it still held life.
He lived for the thrill of it.
Now I do.






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In alt.food.barbecue, Mr. Wizard > wrote:

> "Tofu Guy" > wrote in message
> om...

> I'll never forget killing my first Hog.


James Dickey?

--
....I'm an air-conditioned gypsy...

- The Who

> wrote in message
...
> In alt.food.barbecue, Mr. Wizard > wrote:
>
> > "Tofu Guy" > wrote in message
> > om...
>
> > I'll never forget killing my first Hog.
>
>
> James Dickey?
>
> --
> ...I'm an air-conditioned gypsy...
>
> - The Who

No, but thanks for the idea.
I will pull this story apart and parse
it back Dickey style!




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