The eighteen-year-old left the house and
went bow hunting for deer. Arriving home
long after dark he said he hit the deer in
the rump and it bounded away. He followed
the blood trail as far and long as he could.
His stepfather, a fisher not a hunter, said
“Would you like me to help you find the
deer tomorrow?” “Yes.” They went out
early; the young man retraced his steps
and they came upon the button buck near
a creek. They stood over the still warm
body, the young man hesitating. “Do you
know what to do?” his stepfather asked.
“Yes,” he said pulling out the Bowie knife
and then just standing there over the deer.
“I know what to do, but I’ve never done it
before. I watched my dad.” Taking his cue,
his stepfather said, “Would you like me to
do it? You can tell me what to do step-by-
step.” “Okay.” And so they proceeded. When
the work was done, the eighteen-year-old
and his stepfather took the innards and
made an offering to the other animals of
the forest. Dragging the carcass, they
walked out of the woods.