The first time I was shot at I wasn’t yet a member. I was hunting deer on my Uncle’s farm, and had been still hunting alone along the slope of a step in the valley. Mid November there were not any leaves on the poplars I was working my way through. Just down from the valley wall I was on, the valley levels off and the woods open into a pasture, about 300 yards wide it was bordered by the road.
When I saw the pickup stop and the two hunters piled out I started looking for the deer they spotted, and I figured it must have been at the edge of the pasture, and I strained to find it. When I looked back at the other hunters I realized that deer must be below me as they were orientated in my direction. I saw the rifle fire and then heard the report almost at the same time as I heard the bullet in the branches above my head.
Although it probably took no time at all, it seemed to me later that I stood there for a long time while my brain processed the fact that I, apparently, was the deer. I know how long it takes to rack another round in the chamber of a rifle and that time had probably already passed when I dropped to the ground and began screaming at the top of my lungs, trying to sound as un-deer-like as I possibly could.
Apparently it worked for, in a move that shook some of my faith in human nature, the two jumped back into the truck and sped off without bothering to see if they had actually hit me or not. I sat on the ground for awhile and then headed back to my truck and headed towards another of my favourite spots.
After I became a member, despite being in some very tense situations, bullets never flew my way. I’d had rifles pointed at me, looked down the business end of shotguns and a handgun, had an ax swung at me and knives leveled at me, but at the end of the day no bullets ever came at me.
So, it was bound to happen that the second time I was shot at, they weren’t shooting at me per se, I just happened to be part of the background…
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There is something in this story both about the nature of “accidental”–lying in lack of preparation and awareness–and the deliberation of possible human violence that is very interesting. Or maybe you were lucky to be facing guns in Canada rather than the U.S., where the deliberation may be lacking in the face of action at more primal levels.
Scary stuff. I believe most hunters by far are following the rules, identifying their targets, etc.–but I’m always nervous during the gun season because of the existence of hunters like the ones you met that day. Appalling that they didn’t stop to find out if you’d been hit.
The type of hunter who’d shoot at something they couldn’t really see… exactly the same type who’d speed off without checking to see if you were ok.
Sadly the world is full of people like that.