She knew what it was when she left on Sunday morning because we didn't miss out on that golden opportunity of introducing a novice hunter into the group.
This is a common snipe. They are a real bird, they just don't live on this continent. They are native to Africa, Asia and Australia. They are a wading bird, with a big beak and have an erratic flight pattern that makes hunting them almost impossible. In fact, the term sniper came from this little guy - meaning if you could kill it, you were that good.
Now, a snipe hunt is actually just a wild goose chase that you sent gullible people on. It's a hazing of sorts, or a rite of passage. I've taken people snipe hunting before, but I'm way to nice about it. Others, aren't so nice. I remember in high school two cheerleaders got left in the middle of nowhere for six hours on a snipe hunt, of course they weren't smart enough to start walking the mile back to town. Hence, an easy target.
This weekend we had an easy target in my cousin's fiancé. She's a city girl, and seemed genuinely interested in this snipe hunting adventure we all spoke so fondly about. And before you say we were mean, my cousin started it. Granted, we didn't let up either. This poor gal was ready to get her coat and shoes when Dad finally just broke and told her the truth. Grandma almost blew our cover though as she sat at the end of the table next to her.
We had her all set to go. We were going to get her a stick, and a pillowcase and take her out to the hay lot so she could make sure and have a good chance at capturing the little bird.
"They're pretty slow in the winter, because it's pretty cold," Dad told her. "Of course in the summer, them sumbitches are fast."
"Slow," she said, and we all nodded. "Why the hay lot?"
"They like it," we all answered in unison. Then my Dad told her that she had to stand next to the hay bale and beat on it with a stick with the pillowcase open so it would run into the pillowcase.
"I'll try anything once," she said.
Well, once was all she would have tried this fiasco. Because after we all told stories about taking people out, and the size of them, and how we cooked them she seemed to get skeptical.
"I'm not sure this sounds like a good idea," she said, and then looked at grandma. "This isn't a good idea, is it?"
Grandma said nothing, just gave her a look as if to say, "no, but I'm not about to ruin everybody's fun."
Dad did. Only because it was too cold, and he liked her.
"If it was summertime, I would have taken you out there to hunt snipe," he said. "But, it's cold and you have never been here and would have absolutely no idea how to get back."
"You mean you don't hunt with me?" she asked.
"Nope, we drop you off in the middle of nowhere and leave you to get back to town on your own," my Dad told her.
She didn't get mad, or cry, or seem embarrassed, and she did show up to breakfast the next morning. That's how I figured she was good people - because she can laugh at herself. And, in this family that is requirement whether you're blood or not. .
No comments:
Post a Comment