There are many who hate us because we long to hunt, to kill and eat the flesh of wild things! They think we are evil because we love to hold the antler of our slain quarry. Some want to kill us because we lure our quarry near then slock them from the shadows. Hunters, my friends, be proud of who you are. I encourage you to take 5 minutes to read this small portion of "A DEMON IN THE DARK." In this short passage I've pulled from my book, the main character is speaking out for the right to hunt and slams the fools who believe that by stopping hunting they will preserve the animals and give them a paradise to live in.
A well-dressed spokesman for one of three animal rights organization who had came from a long line of politicians who hated hunting, was just finishing up his speech. Mr. Pelosi was short, quite fat and pale skinned, which showed he rarely if ever spent time in the bush. He wore a bow tie with round rim glasses as he read the final line of his well orchestrated speech.
"And so I implore you to close hunting across our region, to ban the cruel slaughter of innocent animals and end an era of brutal killing by so called sportsmen whom delight in the death of our precious wild recourses. Thank you."
The crowd clapped as he took his seat. Ren could see they were biased as he rose from the back of the room and headed down a long isle toward the podium. A sudden hush came over the room.
He moved with a swagger that demanded attention. Beneath his weathered attire it was obvious that he was tall and broad with cut muscle that deserved to be noticed. A woman seated at the edge of the isle leaned to her friend as Ren walked by. She whispered with a slight smile as they both gazed at his stunning blue eyes and chiseled jaw line. He was deeply tan with long black hair that flowed back like the wet main of a young stallion. Unlike the rest who spoke before him, he never wore a tie, but instead, had a fine etched leather vest made of gemsbok hide, complimented with ivory buttons, crocodile boots, an elephant hair bracelet and a lion claw necklace. Ren’s choice of attire showed he had no empathy for the anti-hunters, tree huggers or politicians in the room.
He was feared by many in attendance who knew him. For others, his stellar war record had kept their respect. The committee never liked it that Ren was about to present his case but owed him that much, for he was from the family who had protected many of the last rhinos during the war. Unlike the previous speakers, Ren carried nothing to the stage. Confidence was reflected in his every move and all eyes were focused on him as he paused to scan the crowd before him.
Ren’s aura had set the stage as he began to speak. The first line was a shot to the heart of every anti hunter in the room.
"From the very beginning man has been a hunter and his instinct to hunt is still alive. As I pursue my quarry, the drama of life and death unfolds. The natural cycle of life is driven by those who pursue. I am a hunter. I have witnessed things that most men will never see. I have tasted the flesh of wild buffalo that was pulled from hot coals by bushman whose father, and grandfathers had done the same. I've patiently waited below the stars for hungry leopards to hit my bait and desperately scrambled through heavy cover, as an enraged bull elephant took chase. You want to take that from me because you feel I am brutal, that your animals need protection. Oh my friends, why are you really here? Surely not on behalf of the African animals, your agenda, well, it seems clear. You want to stop hunting. You want to end a tradition that is a million years old.”
Ren paused for a moment, looking intently to the members of the committee and then his captivated audience.
"As I look across this room, I see misguided people who believe you are about to do the right thing”.
Ren glanced at the committee again then smiled back at the crowd. “These ten committee members of whom I’ve never crossed paths with in the forest are about to destroy a heritage. Today is a historic day which you are a part of, for it’s the end of an era".
Ren turned to the ten committee members off to his left, mostly city politicians who would ultimately decide the fate of hunting. He made eye contact with each of them then raised his voice.
"It's an era of life that you will turn into death! You are fools, whose fool’s game will destroy Africa's remaining wildlife. You are here to starve the animals and drive them to thirst, famine and disease".
A well dressed bearded older man in the front row stood and yelled, "This is uncalled for. You are Satan’s own"!
Ren looked down at him, raised an eyebrow but never spoke. The man began to speak again, but caught an elbow from his wife, so he took his seat beside her. Ren then winked at his wife which made the man that much more angry and drew chuckles from the audience.
"Ma’am, have you seen a mother zebra die of dehydration?” She shook her head no, and then looked down.
“I have”, said Ren. “After two days without water, they began to seek a place to drink with nostrils flared. It was sad. Her baby struggled to keep up as she searched for water. Two days after that, their walk turned into a stagger as they drug their hooves in the red sands. But the African animal is strong. So they continue to fight and hang on to life. Even so, her baby can no longer keep up and hyenas are quick to see its stress. They move in but the mother is too weak to fight. Until now, the young calf had been strong and healthy, but days before her only source of water, a well, was turned off. In the shadow of death, the hyenas claim their victim. Although still alive, they waste no time in eating on the helpless baby. It cries out for its mother, but she stands aside. She is too weak and now distraught, as she watches her infant be eaten alive.
Instinctively she moves on. She can smell water ahead but an endless fence line stops her from reaching the water. So with head hung low, she slowly paces back and forth along the fence line. The ruthless heat continues to dry her body. She begins to stumble and then falls. She regains her footing but staggers in circles for she has lost balance and vision. The zebra’s brain pounds with pain and its tongue swells, making it impossible to swallow. At last, she collapses and falls from exhaustion. But death does not come easy. For as she lies there below the African sun, the birds begin their decent. They land at her side then move closer to the zebra's face. Yet all she can do is blink her eyes, for she is too weak to rise. They move in testing her will. Ultimately the scavengers dig at her eyes, popping them open then tearing them from the zebra’s face. She feels the pain but can do nothing, only wonder what went wrong.
Beneath the baking sun she awaits death as the birds finish her eyes. The vultures don’t move on to other portions of the zebra’s body. Instead, they leave the zebra to die, which will take another day and why should they? Eyes are good to eat and there are hundreds more for the taking, for the hunters are gone and death has arrived. Wildebeest, impala, giraffe, gazelle, kudu and more, all die of the same fate.
I’ve seen it before my friends. It has already played out its cards before us. How soon you’ve forgotten. Botswana, Uganda, Namibia, South Africa, you stopped hunting there as well. They were once a paradise teaming with thriving wild animals living, coexisting with man, with hunters who provided the essentials for the African wild life.
Yet, like you, there was hatred of the hunter and they forced them to leave their lands. Oh and they did. The American’s left along with the Russians, Italians and all the rest who hunted or hosted the wealth of the world. Now they are gone, as is their money. When the money ran out, the animals no longer had a value worth protecting. As you should know, they have since vanished from Eden’s paradise. Water wells are dry, feed is no longer supplied and poaching is left unchecked. What few were left in game farms, were set free when they opened their gates and only to replace them with cattle and goats. Two thousand white rhino were dead inside three years and the elephants are no more. You want Africa to be wild, its animals to roam, free of hunters, to live and die in nature’s way. You believe it will happen where man is no longer a hunter. Well my friends, you are dreaming.
Africa is no longer the natural land it once was. Roads cross its landscape like veins of the kudu's neck. Fences block every corridor of ancient migration routes. Cattle and goats now graze where Africa’s vast wild herds once found rest and gave birth. Likewise, fear resides at the water for our rivers are lined with villages and farms. Even the birds are at our mercy.
Oh, and let us not forget the elephants, and rhinos. Do you have a plan? Who will replace the half billion dollars that hunters pay us to pursue our beast? The money that is generated from hunting Africa’s vast supply of plains game is currently used to protect the endangered as well. By stopping hunting, the only money you are about to create is the blood money of ruthless poachers. They are waiting to reap them from the earth. No doubt, some of them are sitting in this very room, waiting for you to open the gates. The last of the rhinos in sector five, will be as lambs to the slaughter.” The woman in the front row elbowed her husband again as he sat with crossed arms as Ren continued.
“Poachers now carry automatic rifles not spears. How will we defend the rhino without proper resources? It’s a war out there. Stop hunting and you might as well hold the zebra’s head while I slice its throat, for death would come with more mercy than your foolish plan could ever give. I will not hide who I am.
Like the cheetah, I am a hunter. I stalk the forest then kill my quarry. I enjoy the taste of its flesh, for which you may hate me. Although it is beyond your grasp, I would die to ensure the survival of our African wilderness and all that live free in its glorious beauty. Today I call out what little wisdom you have left. What few creatures remain for us to protect, they are left at your mercy. Hunters are all they have to pay the bill that supplies water and protects them. This entire room and all the rest of the world will not give ten percent of what hunters have invested or will pay to secure the future of African wildlife. Today you will vote. I have my knife ready to cut its throat, which of you will hold the head?”
If you agree and enjoy a real life thriller that is predictably accurate, buy my book at www.timwellsbowhunter.com. A portion of your purchase will be given to SCI for future generations of hunters. ... See MoreSee Less
Three 2 one LAUNCH. Join me at the Deer fest in Wisconsin and we will swop stories!!! Get ya a Blow gun or sling some arrows with me at the flying target launcher. Ok well I hit him a little back, go ahead chew me out I'm use to it..... ... See MoreSee Less
Here ya go!!! Deadly!!! The razor darts are back and you can get them at timwellsbowhunter.com !!
I've killed coons fish springbuck birds squirrels and rabbits with them. ... See MoreSee Less
When the spear hit him, it made a distinctive SLOCK. Where have we heard that before? I got a question for you hard core killers out there and don't lie either! Have you ever held a pig? ... See MoreSee Less