A Tale Of True Love

by Alexa Stewart

  WAKING BEFORE DAWN, the men found fresh snow on the ground, their breath drifting on the morning air.

  Dressed warmly in camouflaged hunting clothes, with bright orange safety vests and hats, they ate a hearty breakfast, drank hot coffee and made sure they had everything they needed for their quest.

  The discussion that morning, in the dark before the dawn, was where they were going to hunt and with whom.

  “I’m going to hunt alone, Ed,” Braxton informed him.

  “That’s not a very good idea, Brax. What if you get into trouble out there? You should have someone with you.”

  “Nah, I’ll be okay. I really want to be alone for a while,” he replied as he picked up his gear and started off, using his flashlight. “See ya later today. I’ll be back for dinner,” he stated as he disappeared into the dark woods.

  Harley and Ross took Fred with them as they started off for the north ridge, while Ed and Pastor Tom went east, toward the steep slopes of Dead Horse Ridge on Mount McDougal.

  Walking through the forest in the dark was different, but not hard. Using their flashlights, Pastor Tom just watched where he was going and followed Ed.

  They climbed for a while, working their way toward the top, always listening, looking for signs of fresh tracks in the snow patches, or dirt that had been newly moved, it being darker in color than the dirt around it.

  As the night started to fade with the stars dimming and the pale light from the coming sun starting to illuminate the world around them, they neared their destination.

  Turning off their flashlights, they stooped low, then crawled making their way to a boulder surrounded by brush for cover. They had made it to the top of the ridge before the sun.

  Using their binoculars, “glassing” Ed called it, they looked for game below. The sky turned pink between the dark purple of the mountains in the distance and the cloud cover overhead, snow showers were expected for today.

  Each man looked forward to getting out into God’s country and experiencing the great outdoors. Pastor Tom wasn’t an exception.

  He loved the smell of the fresh air, the bite of the wind on his face, and the beauty all around him. He felt on top of the world as he viewed the great vistas of forests, valleys, ravines, and rivers below him. He watched as whips of clouds formed, emerging, rising and floating along the steep terrain.

  It’s so quiet out here.

  Then in the distance, the sound of wild geese honking, floated on the air.

  Romans 1:20 came to him, For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.

  Tears of joy reflected in his eyes from the glory of God and his love for his Lord.

  Wiping his eyes, he focused on the task at hand. Even if he didn’t bag his elk on this trip, it was worth all the time he could put in, out here where God made Himself known to those who would look.

  Hours later, with his feet sore and cold, he continued to follow his teacher and guide, but no elk. They had seen moose and even a few mule deer, but no elk.

  “Let’s go back to camp for a hot lunch and a big cup of coffee,” Ed suggested as he noticed his friend’s limping getting worse. “Sorry your boots are hurting you. Looks like your hiking boots aren’t meant for this type of terrain. Good boots are very important when your feet are so vital out here. You’d better let me take a look at them when we get back into camp.”

  I bet it’s over five miles back to the camp, Tom rationalized. Boy, I could injure my hand, arm or shoulder and make it back just fine, but if anything goes wrong with the feet, you’re in trouble! You sure can’t get very far on bad feet!

  Every step he took was becoming more painful for him. He tried to keep up with Ed, but he couldn’t walk very fast because of the pain. He tried to walk slowly, but that didn’t help either.

  You might as well get this over with and keep up, he told himself, walking faster.

  He climbed over logs, wanting to stop and rest, but that would only delay his return to camp. He didn’t want to be a burden on his first hunting trip with his friends.

  They continued to descend steep terrain and then climbed back up onto the next ridge. It was a lengthy trek back to camp. By the end, Pastor Tom was taking short decisive steps, hobbling in searing pain all the way to a chair near the fire pit.

  When the boots were taken off, his feet revealed blisters that had broken and some were even rubbed so raw they were bleeding.

  “Gee Pastor Tom, that’s the worst crop of blisters I’ve ever seen. I think you better sit out today and probably a couple more, just to give your feet a chance to heal. Did you bring any other shoes?”

  “Just a pair of sneakers Marty tossed in as an afterthought, just in case my feet got wet,” he said smiling, grateful now that he had them. But, he also knew no matter what he put on his feet, even soft, fluffy slippers… it was going to be painful to walk.

  Ed got out the first-aid kit, the large one they always brought with them, and applied antibacterial salve, then wrapped Tom’s feet in gauze and went into the tent for an extra pair of wool socks and a blanket. He put the socks on the poor man’s feet and wrapped his legs in the blanket, after propping them up on a cooler he had drug over.

  Stacking more wood into the pit, it soon was radiating heat, warmth, and comfort from the fire, as the smoke swirled around with its acrid smell in a gentle breeze.

  Tom and Ed ate lunch by the fire. The hot coffee tasted wonderful. Ed talked about some of his past trips and the follies they all had experienced at one time or another.

  “Are you going back out?” Tom asked.

  “No. Not right now. The best time to hunt elk is in the early morning hours or a couple hours before dark, when they’re out grazing. They’ll be bedded down by now and well hidden. They normally aren’t seen in the light of day, at least not during hunting season. I’ll see about going out with one of the others tonight.”

  “I wish I wasn’t holding you up,” Tom expressed his concern.

  “Told you before, things like this have happened to all of us. I’ll get your sneakers,” Ed commented as he got up and went into the tent.

  “They’re in the bottom of my backpack,” Tom called after him.

  Returning with the shoes, Ed knelt down and gently put the shoes on Pastor Tom’s feet, after pulling out the shoelaces in an effort to make them as big as possible. They fit over the bandaged feet just fine. But, it was the walking in them that was going to be difficult.

  Voices carried on the air as Tom and Ed looked up to see Harley and Fred emerging from the woods supporting Braxton between them. Ross followed with the hunting gear.

  “What happened?” Pastor Tom asked, noticing Braxton was hopping on his left leg between his rescuers.

  “Fell off a log covered in some ice and snow, wrenched my leg as it got caught in-between it and another tree. Didn’t even get to do nothing, but just lay there trapped for hours, wondering what I was going to do,” the man said in anger, frustrated. He was helped to a chair.

  “Couldn’t even use my gun to summon help,” he complained. “It fell a few feet from me. If it wasn’t for these guys spotting me and coming over to find out why I was just lying there, I’d be there right now!”

  “God has a way of taking care of the foolish,” Ed told his friend.

  Braxton just glared at him.

  “Better let me look at it,” Ed suggested, knelling down.

  The injured man remained still as Ed pulled up his pant leg. He could see the swelling and discoloration in full swing.

  “Gonna have to cut this boot off, Brax, to get a better look. Once out, it’s going to swell up like a balloon.”

  “You’re not going to cut these boots! They cost me a fortune!”

  “Something might be broken. Pulling off your boot is only going to do more damage.”

  “I don�
��t care. It’s not broken anyway. It’s just a bad sprain,” Braxton said, cursing some.

  Ed untied his laces and pulled them out of the boot, spreading it apart as much as he could. He paused to get his nerve up to pull the boot off.

  “Oh here, let me do it!” Braxton stated and leaned down to pull it off, but the pain was too much that he fell back in the chair, cringing in agony.

  “Hold onto his leg Fred, while I try and get this off,” Ed said.

  With some effort and a lot of crying out in pain and profanity from the man who wanted to be left alone, the boot finally came off.

  Fred brought over a bucket full of creek water, while Harley adding ice from the food chest. As Braxton’s foot was immersed, he took in a sharp breath from the sting of the icy water.

  After a while, Ed removed his foot from the frigid water and inspected it closely. He moved it around, assessing its mobility and function.

  “I can’t guarantee you haven’t broken this Brax. I can take you into Jackson Hole and have it x-rayed,” he suggested.

  “No. It’ll be okay if I stay off of it, even if it’s broken, which I don’t think it is,” he said. “I just wish I could have got some hunting in. You sure you don’t have anything in camp stiff to drink?”

  “We’re sure.”

  “Not even a beer?”

  “Nope.”

  Frustrated Braxton sat with a frown on his face, angry with himself, angry with life in general, and angry he had even come.

  The men discussed breaking camp and getting Brax to a doctor and Tom home, where his feet could heal better, but Tom didn’t want them to stop hunting on his account. Everyone had taken time off from work, spent good money for supplies, tags, ammunition, and had looked forward to this trip all year. Besides, they really needed the meat to help out at home.

  Braxton refused to go to the hospital and wouldn’t say one way or the other about breaking camp. This trip hadn’t worked out at all and he remained sullen.

  Harley went to his truck and opened the driver’s door, pulling the back of his bench seat forward, looking down into his ropes, come-a-long and tools he stored on the floor back there. Sure enough, the old metal crutch was there. He had put it in there for just this type of emergency.

  Digging it out from under his stuff, he offered it to Braxton.

  “So you can get around a little better on your own,” he told the angry man.

  “Thanks,” Braxton said as he took it.

  The men decided to stay, at least until the next morning when they could re-evaluate the situation. That would give them the opportunity to go back out again tonight, maybe filling a least one tag.

  The weather remained overcast, cold and gray, but no snow fell.

 

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