Page 1 of 2 12 LastLast
Results 1 to 20 of 31

Thread: Bob and the Lion

  1. #1
    Join Date
    Jul 2003
    Location
    Moncks Corner
    Posts
    15,556

    Default Bob and the Lion

    Even two years into retirement Bob still likes to get up early. He had scrimped and saved his whole working life to be able to retire early. Now that he is in his early fifties, he lives in a nice but secluded corner of a small town. He’s not rich but has enough money to do just about anything he wants. He likes to hunt elk in the fall and fly fish in the mountains near his Arizona home in the summer. Most mornings, though, he does exactly what he is planning to do on this particular morning – read the paper and drink coffee.

    Younger Bob liked cold weather but retired Bob appreciates warm, maybe even hot, weather. The warm arid air feels good as he walks out to the mailbox to get the newspaper. He notices something is a little different this morning. He closes his eyes and breathes in the desert. It’s easy to imagine how it must feel in Africa on a warm winter’s morning where the air smells like big animals. He has never been to Africa but has read enough Capstick, Ruark, and Hemingway that he likes to think about what it would be like. He had once briefly considered a safari but his elk hunting was about as wild as he cared to get. In the house, he walks past the big bay window that overlooks his backyard. The area beyond his house is typical high desert but enough moisture comes out of the mountains that the brush stays thick and high.

    A flash catches Bob’s eye. He looks just in time to see something moving from his cultured rock garden to the desert brush. He takes a deep breath and tries for all he is worth to think what it could have been. His first thought was that a cougar is in the area but they tend to stay in the foothills. A big dog would be more likely but the tawny color just didn’t look right for a dog. Maybe it was the wings of a hawk gliding low through the brush. Bob often saw hawks hunting mice, jackrabbits and desert reptiles in the thick brush. The hawk explanation made some sense but once again the tawny color made it unlikely since the Harris’ hawks that he usually saw are nearly all black.

    From just the quick glimpse it looked most like an African lion but he was in Arizona not Africa so he quickly dismissed that thought. He waited by the window for some time hoping to get a better look at the ghost in the brush but did not see any more movement. He finally concluded it was a deer but curiosity being what it is, he decided to go outside and have a look. He put his shoes back on and headed for the door. Halfway to the door he thought again about the possibility of it actually being a cougar. He decided to get his elk rifle, a .338 Winchester Magnum. The round is overkill for elk and Bob knew it. Whether he would admit it to himself or not, the heavy, somewhat uncommon caliber was just a way to cover a rather ordinary and pedestrian life. Regardless, he was glad to have it now. He considered waking his wife and having her watch by the window in case he needed help. He knew she enjoyed sleeping late and he thought the whole idea was rather silly anyway so he let her sleep. Loading his rifle with three rounds, he headed out of the door.

    The thick cartridges and heavy bullets gave him a sense of security as he walked around to the back yard. The abundant, familiar and pleasant sounds of the morning desert eased his nerves as he crossed the rock garden. He went to where he had seen the animal. The base of small rocks had been disturbed but it was impossible to tell by what. He looked out across the high brush and began picking his way through the open sandy areas. Life is abundant in the desert brush and the sand was full of tracks but all them too small to explain what he had seen. About 60 yards into the brush, he decided that the whole thing was rather ridiculous and turned back to the house. As he did, he noticed a large track crossway with the trail. He stooped to look and absolute fear shot through him. There in the desert sand was the pugmark of a huge cat.

    A sense of panic began to take hold as he moved his thumb to the safety of his rifle that, all the sudden, seemed too small. Part of him wanted to make a run for it while another part wanted to hide under the nearest bush and cry. Bob looked toward his house as he struggled to regain his self-control. He wondered how things could have changed so quickly. Just a few minutes ago, he was planning to drink coffee and read the newspaper. Now, he is trapped in chest-high brush with a big cat of some kind. It was the same feeling he had had as a youngster trying to walk out of a store with a handful of shoplifted candy.

    Being grabbed by an angry shop owner seemed, at the time, as bad as being grabbed by a big cat in the thick brush now. Then, as now, he knew that running would draw unwanted attention so he remained frozen while his mind ran through scenarios. Keeping calm and slowly walking out of the candy store had worked as a youngster so he settled on the same strategy this time. Things changed again when he took his first step back towards the safety of the house.

    The low, guttural rumble of a big cat froze Bob in his tracks. Humans have difficulty pinpointing the source of low frequency noises since we tend to feel the sound as much as hear it. Bob held his breath hoping it was just a distant helicopter or maybe a heavy work truck coming down his road but it stopped as abruptly as it started. Panicked moments seem to last forever. Before forever ended, though, the cat cleared up the confusion on where he was.

    From directly along the path back to the house came a deep, barking roar that silenced the desert’s morning fauna. Even animals and birds that had never experienced an Africa lion know to pay proper deference to the King of Beasts.

    The sound of the lion’s roar and the fear it created reminded Bob of the time when one of his business flights out of Phoenix lost an engine during takeoff. Full of panicked passengers including Bob, the plane circled and landed without a problem. The blown engine story was the only contribution Bob could ever make to dinner conversations that turned to adventure, fear or death. He really had lived an unspectacular life but that was about to change.

    Looking to where the roar had come from Bob finally made out the face and mane of an adult male lion tucked under some brush beside the trail. He could see the irritated swishing of the big cat’s tail. He brought his gun to his shoulder clicking off the safety as the gun came up. As he stared, the cat’s liquid amber eyes seemed to soften and its shoulders came up slightly. Bob thought the lion might turn and run but the eyes solidified and the shoulders dropped and tightened. “He’s coming,” Bob thought and it did.

    Like a sprinter out of blocks the big cat was in the trail and coming at Bob so fast the hair of his mane laid back against his body. Without a conscious thought, Bob centered the rifle on the cat’s nose and fired. He hadn’t accounted for the speed of the cat so the bullet hit its right haunch. It slowed him briefly but not much.

    His senses heightened and he squared his stance as he worked the bolt. Prior to this, everything had happened rather quickly but all the sudden things dropped into super slow motion. The reloading motion wasn’t something Bob had ever practiced but he was perfect. He was aware of the empty casing as it cleared his shoulder and the fresh cartridge as it slammed in the chamber. He sensed every bird startled to flight by his first shot. He could feel the the shape of the land as the echo of the shot rolled over the rolling hills. Bob was alive, maybe for the first time in his life, and he intended to stay that way.

    He compensated for the speed of the cat with his second shot and put a .338 inch hole above the bridge of the cat’s bared teeth. The lion’s four legs stiffened as he fell to his right side leaving a short furrow in the desert sand. The legs remained stiff but quivering with all 16 claws fully extended in the morning air. Its eyes remained open as if it was looking somewhere way off in the distance.

    As if he had done it a hundred times before, Bob ran to where the lion lay, worked his final bullet into the chamber and put the last shot between the beast’s stiffened front legs. The shot tapped a solid stream of garnet that pooled quicker than the dry desert sand could drain it away. He knew even “dead” lions kill people and he was now out of bullets so he busted through the brush until he reached the rock garden then ran around to the front as his wife was opening the door with terror on her face.

    They waited in the house for the local police to arrive. The police wanted nothing to do with the situation so Bob, his wife, and the police all waited in the house for the Wildlife Department. Wildlife made a plan, guns of every imaginable configuration were drawn, and an army of blue and green waded through the rock garden then into the desert brush. The wildlife captain returned almost immediately saying they had found the dead cat exactly where Bob had laid him. The same captain called a week later.

    He told Bob that the lion had escaped from a private collector who had illegally kept four other lions, three tigers and a pair of local mountain lions taken as kittens from a den in the mountains. The State ticketed the owner and relieved him of possession of the remaining cats. The captain told Bob that their biologists believed the abused lion wanted to avoid a confrontation with a human and that’s why he let Bob walk right past him the first time. Only when Bob turned around and faced the lion did it make the decision to fight. “I’m glad you’re okay”, the Captain told Bob before hanging up.

    “Who was that?” Bob’s wife asked.

    “The Wildlife Department,” Bob told her.

    He continued, “You know, I’ve been thinking, we can afford to spend a little money and go on a trip. How about Africa? I think I may want to hunt Africa.”
    Last edited by Rubberhead*; 10-27-2022 at 04:11 PM. Reason: Tater...
    Ephesians 2 : 8-9



    Charles Barkley: Nobody doesn't like meat.

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Sep 2001
    Location
    Wateree, South Carolina
    Posts
    48,808

    Default

    One never knows, do one?

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Jun 2014
    Location
    The G
    Posts
    9,482

    Default

    Dang, RH. See WW82's turkey thread. That's the way to write a story.
    - "My dad used to tell me that nothing good happens when you take your AR to an out of town riot. Or maybe it was that nothing good happens after 1:00 in the morning. I can't remember any more." - Wob

    - "Any thought of romance went out the window when I saw the Ohio plates" - Squirrel Master

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Sep 2001
    Location
    Wateree, South Carolina
    Posts
    48,808

    Default

    One story isn't like the other. 1889 words about shooting poultry?

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Nov 2005
    Location
    Fort Kickass
    Posts
    50,993

    Default

    Your story? I assume so, since you'd give credit if pirated.

    I liked it. Very Francis Macomber-ey.
    "Rivers and the inhabitants of the watery elements are for wise men to contemplate and for fools to pass by without consideration" -Izaak Walton

  6. #6
    Join Date
    Jun 2014
    Location
    The G
    Posts
    9,482

    Default

    Was just kidding, JBIII. Dude's dang-near a poet. Y'all carry on.
    - "My dad used to tell me that nothing good happens when you take your AR to an out of town riot. Or maybe it was that nothing good happens after 1:00 in the morning. I can't remember any more." - Wob

    - "Any thought of romance went out the window when I saw the Ohio plates" - Squirrel Master

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Sep 2001
    Location
    Wateree, South Carolina
    Posts
    48,808

    Default

    Oh I know. He could probably write 2000 words about shooting a turkey and manage to make it a great read...

  8. #8
    Join Date
    Jul 2003
    Location
    Moncks Corner
    Posts
    15,556

    Default

    Thanks Guys.

    Quote Originally Posted by BigBrother View Post
    Your story? I assume so, since you'd give credit if pirated.

    I liked it. Very Francis Macomber-ey.
    Yep, 100%. Bob has been stuck in the brush on my hard drive for probably 20 years. I just never really knew what I wanted to do with the story. Then, a couple of weeks ago I saw a blurb about the passing of a PH in Zimbabwe named Dion Stephens. I'd never heard his name before but am familiar with the reaction from the blue-haired left when a hunter passes. I made a comment something like Dion Stephens lived more lives than 100 Starbucks Suckers combined. So, that's the story - don't wait for the lion to attack before learning to live life and, to a lesser extent, it's never too late.
    Ephesians 2 : 8-9



    Charles Barkley: Nobody doesn't like meat.

  9. #9
    Join Date
    Jul 2003
    Location
    Moncks Corner
    Posts
    15,556

    Default

    Oh, and BB, I'm honored by the comparison. If you didn't mean it that way, please don't tell me. haha.
    Ephesians 2 : 8-9



    Charles Barkley: Nobody doesn't like meat.

  10. #10
    Join Date
    Mar 2015
    Location
    ******* County, NC.
    Posts
    5,913

    Default

    As always I enjoyed it.

  11. #11
    Join Date
    Jun 2014
    Location
    The G
    Posts
    9,482

    Default

    No sarcasm from me, RH; you truly have a gift. Props.
    - "My dad used to tell me that nothing good happens when you take your AR to an out of town riot. Or maybe it was that nothing good happens after 1:00 in the morning. I can't remember any more." - Wob

    - "Any thought of romance went out the window when I saw the Ohio plates" - Squirrel Master

  12. #12
    Join Date
    Jul 2003
    Location
    Moncks Corner
    Posts
    15,556

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Black Bart View Post
    No sarcasm from me, RH; you truly have a gift. Props.
    I didn't read it as sarcasm. I'm honored you took the time to read it and hope it was, if not life altering, at least enjoyable...
    Ephesians 2 : 8-9



    Charles Barkley: Nobody doesn't like meat.

  13. #13
    Join Date
    Jun 2014
    Location
    The G
    Posts
    9,482

    Default

    Definitely provides perspective. Sorta like people looking to Buddhism, Islam, Satanism, liberalism, and the like to find some kind of spiritual fulfillment when Jesus's right in front of 'em.

    You also did a fabulous job with analogies, descriptions and the allegorical nature of your story. Very impressive all around.
    Last edited by Black Bart; 04-26-2022 at 03:04 PM.
    - "My dad used to tell me that nothing good happens when you take your AR to an out of town riot. Or maybe it was that nothing good happens after 1:00 in the morning. I can't remember any more." - Wob

    - "Any thought of romance went out the window when I saw the Ohio plates" - Squirrel Master

  14. #14
    Join Date
    Dec 2003
    Location
    29403
    Posts
    2,884

    Default

    Wonderful, a great read, you just made my day.
    \"Free your mind, your ass will follow\"

  15. #15
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    Location
    In the middle of it
    Posts
    8,166

    Default

    Thanks, RH. Outstanding, as always. Congrats on being able to finish it.

  16. #16
    Join Date
    Apr 2022
    Posts
    17

    Default

    My goodness, thats some story. You typed the whole thing up? How long it took?
    Bad day at fishing is better than a good day at work.

  17. #17
    Join Date
    Mar 2016
    Location
    Horry, SC
    Posts
    5,516

    Default

    That was a great read RH.

  18. #18
    Join Date
    Jul 2003
    Location
    Moncks Corner
    Posts
    15,556

    Default

    I hadn't yet been to Africa when I posted this so I didn't want to mention it but it's kind of an anti-autobiography. I'm nothing like Bob including I have never been attacked by a loin (and I've never shoplifted anything) but I didn't want to become Bob and have to have a lion attack me before I got off my butt and did something that I had always wanted to do.
    Ephesians 2 : 8-9



    Charles Barkley: Nobody doesn't like meat.

  19. #19
    Join Date
    Jun 2008
    Location
    Columbia
    Posts
    3,933

    Default

    I like it.


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

  20. #20
    Join Date
    Nov 2010
    Location
    Summerville, SC
    Posts
    7,297

    Default

    Very enjoyable read, your words paint a picture for sure. The picture window, rock garden, scrub brush and the rifle...

    but for some reason I can only see Bob in his boxers, bathrobe and a pair of untied boots slipped on to sockless feet.

    Which makes the story more amazing.

    Thanks for sharing RH, you truly do have a gift.

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •