Heart pounding, hands shaking, and the dampness of my clothes, I clench the firearm into my hands. As I squeeze the trigger, the vibration travels through the stock of the rifle and into my body boom. Dirt flying as bullets crash into the ground, miss, miss, hit, the animal strikes the ground. A voice from behind, "You hit him. You hit him." The silence is broken I have just made a successful hit. Feet crashing into the ground as I approach what I have taken. Still kicking I pull a knife and slice through the throat. My grandpa turns to me, "This is what men do." After we're finished rolling the guts out, we load up into the truck. Taking my trophy with us we began the travel home, to finish the process of butchering to save the meat for later. Sawing into the rib cage for better access, we start to package the nutrients into bags. Besides what we are feasting on that night. After the feast, I’m congratulated and go to bed. You will never forget the feeling of the first kill, what you took to survive. How thankful you become for the world we live in. Feeling proud I think to myself I have just gotten my first Mule Deer.…show more content… My job is to hike the right ridge, and watch for them trying to escape. As I’m hiking through the trees one step on a branch sounds like it was heard for miles, snap! The group starts to run, everyone takes aim to find the buck. If there is one, we open fire, sounding like a world war someone spots one. Bullets traveling at incredible speeds and so are the deer. Unfortunately for us nothing makes contact, the search continues. I spot a very nice buck on the side of the mountain, signaling the squad I race to get a clear view. My brother starts shooting and lands a hit, my grandpa from the truck with binocs confirms the kill. Now the search is on to find the two-point, the search takes hours. Finally, my uncle finds the two point and rollout down the hill. At the bottom my
