All right, this is the last story for a while. I stop harassing you guys 
Anyway, this is about one of the lessons learned and there is a special knife involved.
My best shot
Duck season had been on for a week. I and a couple of my friends had rented a cabin near some ponds to try our luck. We were all archers, although one of us had also brought his shotgun. We had agreed that he could use that on some other evening so that the ducks would not be alarmed.
I wanted a good place for this evenings hunt. The shores of our chosen pond were covered with bush, which suited me fine because I needed the cover. Still I also wanted a clean line of fire, so something had to be done.
I had thought about this and brought something with me. I dont want to carry too much weight, there is enough in compound bow, arrows, a small stool, the duck lures, cord and everything else you need to sit there quietly for many hours. I had brought a Leuku, the Lapland deer herders knife for this application.
I started clearing away some of the bushes to get a clear a shot if I got the opportunity. The idea was to have enough cover to be hidden, but not so much that it would get in the path of the arrow. The leuku had a history, it was made by brothers Laiti, smiths living in northern parts of Finland. I had bought it on our honeymoon trip to Northern Scandinavia. The knife made short work of those bushes. A simple, sturdy tool designed for chopping. Those deer herders knew a thing or two about living in the wilderness and about edged tools. It was not too big and heavy, but the balance point was far enough towards the tip to make it effective and the blade had the right geometry for the job. Of course I had also a small folder with me.
I got ready, put on my camouflage, checked my bow and sat down to wait. The sun was starting to set, there would still be enough light for couple of hours to shoot. The ducks usually came at the last light. I had equipped my bow with a tritium pin so I would be able to aim in low light.
The light was dimming and some fog was starting to creep at us, my friend was sitting about 50 meters from me. I was sitting in a triangle formed by the shore and a ditch dug to let water from the field to get in the pond. My mind settled for a quiet mood, I admired the swirling mist and the orange and red leaves on the trees.
There was a splashing sound to my side. Very, very slowly I turned my head. There was a Muskrat searching for food in the ditch. It had no knowledge of my presence, there was no wind and I had a good cover. My face was also covered by camouflage. I smiled at the animal; it was fun to observe it going on with its business.
An hour passed. Nothing else happened. There were ducks flying, I could see them and hear their sounds, but they did not land on our pond. The mist was increasing and visibility was low. Oh well, maybe this evening is wasted
There was a quacking sound and splashes as a group of ducks landed on our pond. I could see very little, but I knew they were there. Suddenly I saw something moving in the mist. A duck was gliding towards me. I locked the release very quietly on the string and pulled, slowly. I anchored my hand under my jaw and looked through the sights.
I could just see that there was a duck, but the outlines were blurred. The duck was quacking in a low voice, calling its companions. My sight followed it, but visibility was so low I could not measure the distance in my mind and I wanted to see what I was aiming at. The last thing I wanted was a wounded duck. Searching for it would be nerve wrecking.
My mind was screaming at me to shoot. It was like a little devil was talking to me. Shoot, shoot! It is a duck. This is what you came here for! No, I cannot see it clearly; I dont want to wound it. Think about your friends, how they would admire you! Shut up.
The duck was getting closer, but still not close enough. My anchor held, I had the pull on my back muscles like it should be. If it got two to three meters closer I would take the shot. Shoot you idiot the devil was saying to me. Shut up, you are ruining my concentration. Quack quack, where are you guys? There was a faint quacking sound in the mist and the duck glided in that direction. I slowly let got and let the string back to rest.
The devil sighed and vanished. I thought about the situation. Should I have shot? I think not. I wanted to see clearly what I was shooting. There was a twang of the bowstring and the sound of ducks splashing in the water, rising to flight. I waited still for ten minutes and then noticed my friend rising to his feet. Missed.
We gathered our things. Later that evening I put the leuku to good use batoning firewood. We roasted sausages and had a beer or two. The disappointment went away.
Next day I got a couple of pheasants, so the trip was not wasted. I thought about the situation many times. My form had been good, my aim steady; I was pleased that the devil could not talk me in to shooting. The devil was, of course, my inner desire to get the game, to be a hero, to succeed. Sometime our desires can ruin also other things, not only a shot. They can ruin our lives.
I dont hunt anymore, there are more important things in my life now. I have to put things in perspective.
Still I sometimes think about these things. To this day, I consider that one to be one of my best shots. The shot I never took.
Anyway, this is about one of the lessons learned and there is a special knife involved.My best shot
Duck season had been on for a week. I and a couple of my friends had rented a cabin near some ponds to try our luck. We were all archers, although one of us had also brought his shotgun. We had agreed that he could use that on some other evening so that the ducks would not be alarmed.
I wanted a good place for this evenings hunt. The shores of our chosen pond were covered with bush, which suited me fine because I needed the cover. Still I also wanted a clean line of fire, so something had to be done.
I had thought about this and brought something with me. I dont want to carry too much weight, there is enough in compound bow, arrows, a small stool, the duck lures, cord and everything else you need to sit there quietly for many hours. I had brought a Leuku, the Lapland deer herders knife for this application.
I started clearing away some of the bushes to get a clear a shot if I got the opportunity. The idea was to have enough cover to be hidden, but not so much that it would get in the path of the arrow. The leuku had a history, it was made by brothers Laiti, smiths living in northern parts of Finland. I had bought it on our honeymoon trip to Northern Scandinavia. The knife made short work of those bushes. A simple, sturdy tool designed for chopping. Those deer herders knew a thing or two about living in the wilderness and about edged tools. It was not too big and heavy, but the balance point was far enough towards the tip to make it effective and the blade had the right geometry for the job. Of course I had also a small folder with me.
I got ready, put on my camouflage, checked my bow and sat down to wait. The sun was starting to set, there would still be enough light for couple of hours to shoot. The ducks usually came at the last light. I had equipped my bow with a tritium pin so I would be able to aim in low light.
The light was dimming and some fog was starting to creep at us, my friend was sitting about 50 meters from me. I was sitting in a triangle formed by the shore and a ditch dug to let water from the field to get in the pond. My mind settled for a quiet mood, I admired the swirling mist and the orange and red leaves on the trees.
There was a splashing sound to my side. Very, very slowly I turned my head. There was a Muskrat searching for food in the ditch. It had no knowledge of my presence, there was no wind and I had a good cover. My face was also covered by camouflage. I smiled at the animal; it was fun to observe it going on with its business.
An hour passed. Nothing else happened. There were ducks flying, I could see them and hear their sounds, but they did not land on our pond. The mist was increasing and visibility was low. Oh well, maybe this evening is wasted
There was a quacking sound and splashes as a group of ducks landed on our pond. I could see very little, but I knew they were there. Suddenly I saw something moving in the mist. A duck was gliding towards me. I locked the release very quietly on the string and pulled, slowly. I anchored my hand under my jaw and looked through the sights.
I could just see that there was a duck, but the outlines were blurred. The duck was quacking in a low voice, calling its companions. My sight followed it, but visibility was so low I could not measure the distance in my mind and I wanted to see what I was aiming at. The last thing I wanted was a wounded duck. Searching for it would be nerve wrecking.
My mind was screaming at me to shoot. It was like a little devil was talking to me. Shoot, shoot! It is a duck. This is what you came here for! No, I cannot see it clearly; I dont want to wound it. Think about your friends, how they would admire you! Shut up.
The duck was getting closer, but still not close enough. My anchor held, I had the pull on my back muscles like it should be. If it got two to three meters closer I would take the shot. Shoot you idiot the devil was saying to me. Shut up, you are ruining my concentration. Quack quack, where are you guys? There was a faint quacking sound in the mist and the duck glided in that direction. I slowly let got and let the string back to rest.
The devil sighed and vanished. I thought about the situation. Should I have shot? I think not. I wanted to see clearly what I was shooting. There was a twang of the bowstring and the sound of ducks splashing in the water, rising to flight. I waited still for ten minutes and then noticed my friend rising to his feet. Missed.
We gathered our things. Later that evening I put the leuku to good use batoning firewood. We roasted sausages and had a beer or two. The disappointment went away.
Next day I got a couple of pheasants, so the trip was not wasted. I thought about the situation many times. My form had been good, my aim steady; I was pleased that the devil could not talk me in to shooting. The devil was, of course, my inner desire to get the game, to be a hero, to succeed. Sometime our desires can ruin also other things, not only a shot. They can ruin our lives.
I dont hunt anymore, there are more important things in my life now. I have to put things in perspective.
Still I sometimes think about these things. To this day, I consider that one to be one of my best shots. The shot I never took.
