Waste Not, Want Not Want Chapter VIII

Paul turned to the section concerning the air strip. This would be the first phase of the operation. A small, earth surface air strip would be constructed. This should raise no eyebrows or local interest as such were common on ranches all over Texas. No one would know it would be equipped with the latest in radar, a state of the art weather station and navigational aids, a shielded beacon signal which would allow a secret global positioning system to home in on the strip and permit nighttime covert landings by a C130 Specter while practicing complete radio silence.
His first big problem would what to do with the people on the ranch. They had to go. He didn’t want to act rashly. If he summarily gave them the bum’s rush and ran them off there would undoubtedly be a big stink. It would probably get into the papers, maybe even TV. God knows what might happen! No, he would have to think this over. For now he would just relax and play the role of the ardent outdoorsman. He loved to hunt and this would give him some much needed recreation.
Tomorrow he would go hunting and explore the place. Tonight he would take a sleeping powder, insuring an undisturbed sleep, he hoped.
It worked well and he slept the night through.
The morning found him sleeping through his alarm and he woke a bit later than he had planned.
“oh well,” he thought. “I guess I am on a vacation.”
He was in no hurry and he enjoyed a good breakfast. He was handy in the kitchen. His independent life style had led to a proficiency in cooking. He enjoyed good food and valued self sufficiency.
The day was breaking clear and cold with a stiff north wind blowing. It would be a good day for hunting. He dressed warm and loaded his gunbag and backpack in his Blazer and he drove north, up the road from his house.
He had brought along a thermos full of hot coffee which he sipped as he drove slowly over the rough dirt road which was often barely

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a visible track as it coursed over the slightly rolling land and its rugged vegetation.
A large jack rabbit broke from its cover and dashed down the road with leaping bounds which quickly carried him out of sight around the next bend. Farther along a covey of quail flew from a thicket and sped away.
The sun was rapidly climbing, warming the chill of the morning and Paul felt a warm sense of joi de vivre for the first time since he arrived here.
He pulled the truck off the track when he came to a “Y” in the road. He parked under cover of a group of trees and decided to take his gun and walk along a line of trees which followed a creek. He took off at a brisk pace, following a well defined game trail. He was in good shape for his age and he enjoyed the exercise and the thrill of the hunt.
As he walked he breathed in great gulps of the clean, cool air. He was feeling a sense of elation. The land was truly beautiful and wild here. He avoided the clumps pf prickly pear as he picked his way through the brush and amongst the trees. Many small animals were active in their brushland environment. He occasionally caught glimpses of their homes or trails and he sometimes walked through strands of spider webs. The quiet was sometimes disturbed by a tiny rustle as some creature took refuge in the grass.
After a couple of quick miles he decided to stop for a rest and a drink of water. He was on the edge of a thicket alongside a long clearing. He sat down facing the sun but not too exposed from cover. He sat there mesmerized by the simple act of being out in the country and on the hunt. He was content to just sit for a while, and enjoy a connection with nature. He felt comfortable and happy to be in the field. Then he saw it.


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A fine buck with a trophy rack just walked out in the clearing. Paul didn’t move. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. His eye followed the buck as he slowly walked right out into the open at a distance much less than fifty yards. The deer was totally unaware of Paul’s presence. Paul cocked the lever of his Model 1894 Winchester and drew a bead as the buck turned slightly towards Paul. He aimed at the breast, shooting for the heart. It was an easy shot for a marksman. He squeezed the trigger. There was a loud report, a cloud of smoke. The recoil rocked him a bit and then there was silence. Paul looked out through the clearing smoke. Where was the deer? He was gone! Paul cursed. He could not have missed the shot from this distance. He quickly ran to the spot where the deer had stood but found only hoof prints.