Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
1:55 am I must have been on the verge of awakening anyway. Someone fired off six rounds from what might have been a .22 magnum rimfire pistol, rapid, but somewhat spaced. Then a pause, maybe to reload, then a single shot. Close enough and loud enough to get one of the roosters crowing and me considering the matter.
Then, 2:15 am, ten, maybe 13 rapid fire shots from a large-bore autoloading pistol. Afterward, silence.
It’s none of my affair, but I’ll confess to lying there awake pondering it all. Doesn’t make any sense at all. That first six shots sounded aimed, maybe someone shooting a coon, hitting, but not getting a killing shot. Reloading, issuing a coup d’grace.
Okay. But what about the second set of shots, thinks I. Something didn’t die, or run away? Someone crawling around amongst the ticks and rattlers looking for a target to shoot back at?
What the hell?
I don’t mean to be nit-picky and overly critical, but I’m thinking it might have been poachers who didn’t have a clue.
Dammit, that isn’t the way you road-hunt deer. You use a .22, spot it between the fences, drop it with one shot, get it into the trunk or back of the truck and get out of Dodge. And you don’t road-hunt on a road where there’s only one way out [back the way you came], such as this one.
That’s all assuming it’s outsiders. Anyone living around here hungry for deer meat would just knock one on the head with a hammer daytimes when they’re trying to run them out of the front yard.
Okay, poachers road-hunting seem unlikely.
On the other hand, those cops from Beaumont who rent the lease half-mile southeast of here were up there a few days ago. Maybe they just got noisy-drunk again and had a firefight over one of their lady friends who sometimes squeal and go shrill after midnight. That might make sense.
Or maybe the new neighbor was just trying out his night-vision on something moved in the bushes and the dog barked.
Hell, I don’t know. Ain’t my affair. I’ll keep an eye open for the vultures circling, anyway.