\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/2024376-Untitled
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #2024376
Colonial period, Indian/white half breed on journey to find who he is, where he came from
[Introduction]
Untitled
by Leaf in the Wind

Chapter One

The young buck picked his way around the small pond. Weaving cautiously through the thicket and into the clearing. Once across the clearing he would enter the woods where Red Bear waited, bow in hand, arrow knocked.
There were still better than a hundred yards before the buck would walk into range where Red Bear had made a shooting lane for this purpose specifically.
The trail the deer used was well worn, many before him and over several generations had came this way. Red Bear knew it was a matter of simply ambushing the deer at the appropriate time and place. He also knew that the White Tailed deer was the wariest and fleetest of foot, and one small mistake or miscalculation and the deer would wave his "white flag" and vanish as a ghost. Red Bear waited pushing away the urge to day dream as was his temptation to do so on such a fantastically beautiful autumn day.
It was late October, the woods were showing off their dazzling array of colors. A slight breeze held a sultry warmth scented by the Earth's decay of damp fallen leaves. The Canada geese flew high above in their patent "V" formation heading south ahead of the grip of Artic cold that would plunge the Northern regions into a blanket of white silence for the next five months.
The Fox Squirrels busied themselves with burying the last of the Acorns in the black soil beneath the rich leaf matter of the forest floor, many to be forgotten, and many would later sprout to grow into mighty Oaks to be enjoyed by Squirrels and hunters in generations to come.

As the buck made his way closer to Red Bear's shooting lane, gently savoring the nuttiness of the Acorns the Squirrels had missed, dipping his head and again raising it to survey the area before moving on, the deer was unaware of the part he was about to play in a chance meeting between two cultures and several families many years in the making before this day and untold years to follow.

This item is currently blank.

Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/2024376-Untitled