That night was really great. After eating supper, we played poker for .22 bullets and told jokes. My cousin had a novelty catalog and in it was a picture of a human gas lantern. We really had fun with that one telling jokes about eating beans. The adults got tired, and a long time before us kids, so well after the lantern was put out we were still telling jokes. My cousin was in the top bunk making noises and cutting up when my uncle told him, “Butch! Cut that crap out!” My cousin replied, “I can’t dad, I left the crap cutter in the pirogue.” In the distance we could hear the old steam locomotive and its faint whistles. We eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, my brother and I went on a safari, or so it seemed. We were looking for anything to shoot with the .22, so we went off into the woods. Not far from the camp we saw a rabbit. Wow! This was the first wild rabbit we ever saw. My brother took the first turn to shoot. Bang! The rabbit just sat there. “My turn!” I yelled. Bang! He hopped off a few feet. It was my brother’s turn again. Bang! The rabbit hopped off. When we got back to the camp, we could not stop telling the story over and over.

We all went home that afternoon, but I never really was the same again. This was my first hunt ever. It wasn’t measured by the amount of game killed, but by the enjoyment we had. A seed was planted in me that is still growing today. Although I have killed many animals in later years, no hunt has ever surpassed this one. I spoke with my brother last week and this hunt came up; he still remembers. Every once and a while I reflect back to this time and place, and the recollections are just as colorful as the day they were lived.