Hunting
There must be some atavistic urge which makes boys throw stones. It's fun, it's competitive, and I suppose that in the past an ability to throw stones far and accurately had a strong survival value.
Adult men like throwing stones, as well. It's difficult to walk along a beach without picking up pebbles to throw in the sea.and as for the challenge of skipping flat stones on lakes or pools; that's and activity as difficult to resist as a second cider on a sunny day.
When I was a boy, like so many others, I was indiscriminate about what I threw stones at. Not windows, or rarely. Animals and birds, until I was told not to. Other boys, until I was smacked. Trees, shrubs; anything could be a target. I still like chucking stones, and I find that it's hard to stop myself from throwing them at big birds like crows or gulls. I nearly always miss, of course, because I choose to target birds too far away to hit.
But on Sunday something happened.
We were walking in a large group near the Quantocks, with myself and another bloke out in front. There was a strong wind, and the two of us were walking quickly uphill, silent because of the effort of striding up the slope. Now I can't justify what happened, but when a healthy adolescent fox ran out across the entrance to a field, just ahead of us, something happened. I was grabbed by an impulse to hunt it, so I stooped, grabbed a couple of smooth round stones, and threw. The first one missed completely, but the noise of the wind disguised the sound of the stone and my grunt of effort, so the fox trotted on regardless. My second stone hit it on its skull, and it dropped on the spot.
I felt simultaneously guilty and proud. My companion was astonished, and Moonface was appalled when she caught up with us a few seconds later. I didn't know what to do with the presumed corpse, so I assumed that it was too badly injured to live, and delivered a coup de grace.
It's a mercy that foxes are a pest and unprotected; I don't know how I would have felt if it had been any other animal that I had attacked.
Adult men like throwing stones, as well. It's difficult to walk along a beach without picking up pebbles to throw in the sea.and as for the challenge of skipping flat stones on lakes or pools; that's and activity as difficult to resist as a second cider on a sunny day.
When I was a boy, like so many others, I was indiscriminate about what I threw stones at. Not windows, or rarely. Animals and birds, until I was told not to. Other boys, until I was smacked. Trees, shrubs; anything could be a target. I still like chucking stones, and I find that it's hard to stop myself from throwing them at big birds like crows or gulls. I nearly always miss, of course, because I choose to target birds too far away to hit.
But on Sunday something happened.
We were walking in a large group near the Quantocks, with myself and another bloke out in front. There was a strong wind, and the two of us were walking quickly uphill, silent because of the effort of striding up the slope. Now I can't justify what happened, but when a healthy adolescent fox ran out across the entrance to a field, just ahead of us, something happened. I was grabbed by an impulse to hunt it, so I stooped, grabbed a couple of smooth round stones, and threw. The first one missed completely, but the noise of the wind disguised the sound of the stone and my grunt of effort, so the fox trotted on regardless. My second stone hit it on its skull, and it dropped on the spot.
I felt simultaneously guilty and proud. My companion was astonished, and Moonface was appalled when she caught up with us a few seconds later. I didn't know what to do with the presumed corpse, so I assumed that it was too badly injured to live, and delivered a coup de grace.
It's a mercy that foxes are a pest and unprotected; I don't know how I would have felt if it had been any other animal that I had attacked.
posted by Moses at
6:50 pm
1 Comments:
It's so boyish! And frightening...
By
Kaa, at 9/5/07 12:55
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