Introduction:

Hi,

Glad you decided to drop by my blog. I enjoy story telling and making up stories. Therefore, I decided to start this blog to share some of my stories with anyone who may be interested. If you enjoy what you read here, please tell others about it. I promise to never post a story here which you would be ashamed to read to your children (or be ashamed if someone caught you reading it).



Blessings,

C. Bowman

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The Hunter

The age old game was in play once again. He had hunted hard for several hours. His prey was now nearby. His singular focus was on getting food. On survival. He had missed on his previous two attempts, his hunger now relentlessly drove him forward. His belly pushed tightly against the ground, he hoped to avoid detection. He desperately needed to eat. Out here in the wilderness, one could not last long without regular meals. He couldn’t afford to have to run from danger or fight unnecessarily. Here on Cow House Island in the northern Okefenokee, water was not an issue. Food, on the other hand, could be difficult to come by at times.

Nearby, two Creek warriors passed along an ancient path first laid out by the Timucans of long ago. The hunter froze in place! Slowly, the warriors’ voices faded into the distance to be replaced by the never ending buzz of insects and calls of various birds. Close by, on the opposite side of a thick growth of gall berry bushes and palmettos, several small splashes could be heard. A Great Blue Heron was attempting to subdue a small unlucky banded water snake. 

The hungry hunter began to rise up out of his hiding place. Slowly, he eased up to the side of the big pine tree, gripping tightly. Only a really desperate hunter would attempt such a move into the open. Obviously, he was very hungry. The building heat of the swamp’s summer sun seemed to spur him to climb faster. The low steady hum of the many insects in the area continued uninterrupted. He was of no concern to them. There was no sign of the recently passed Creeks. He continued his steady climb, gripping the tree’s bark firmly.

The suddenness of the attack caught him completely off guard! A passing shadow was his only brief warning before the enraged attacker struck! A loudly piercing war cry, the first violent blow to his head and the wildly flapping of his attacker’s pounding wings momentarily overwhelmed the primitive senses of the hungry snake. The hard blow to his head from the angry pileated woodpecker’s heavy beak almost knocked him unconscious. The second blow so totally dazed the hunter that he lost his grip on the pine’s rough bark. No longer safely secured by his gripping scales, the gray rat snake clumsily struck about in self-defense as he began to fall away from the tree.   

The big male woodpecker now landed just above the hole which had been the snake’s target. Inside, his young chicks cowered in confused fear. The big female circled around as she eyed the falling snake. The big hunter, a male in his prime well over three feet long, thrashed wildly as he fell. He landed hard across the small trunk of a fallen insect riddled pine. His head and tailed slammed simultaneously against the ground. A loose piece of scaly skin hung across one of his eyes, damage done by the big woodpecker. Quickly, he slithered into the pine straw covered base of a large palmetto bush, seeking safety. High above, the female woodpecker entered her nest to stand watch.
by Clint Bowman (mixed media)

The big male woodpecker swooped across to land on a dying, lightning struck tree. He began a distinctive hopping motion as he ascended looking for a likely spot to search for insects. The threat now gone, life moved on here in the Okefenokee.  

The End

Clint Bowman
May, 2016