Well, I went into the woods, in search of the elusive morel. I put out some morel bait and set up my morel blind. I had with me my trusty Mossberg 20 gauge, with full choke and light bird shot. And I wated. Then, just as I was starting to get discouraged, I remembered that I had forgontten to put out the morel decoys, with pheremone attractant.
It didn't take long after that. A scant ten minutes elapsed before the biggest bull morel came out of the woods, and headed straight for the bait. He didn't even look at the decoy. But the shot was too far. The light shotgun load just wouldn't pack enough energy. I was afraid of wounding him.
To draw him in, I pulled my prized morel caller. It's a lot like a turkey caller, but makes a sound like "whoot, whoot". In any case, that did the trick. That big bull headed toward me.
Now I don't know if you're ever encountered a live morel coming straight at you, but I can tell you, it gives you a whole new perspective on the value of life.
That bull morel was only about seven feet distant when I pulled the trigger. The end of the shotgun jumped micro-seconds after the shot left the barrel. It didnt' even make the morel blink. The behemoth bore down on me with lightning speed. I curled into a ball, expecting to get malled at any moment. But then, I heard the tell tale scream of a primal creature. That got the beasts attention. It halted scant inches away form me. I could smell it's earthy aroma.
I opened one eye just in time to see this man, more ape that human it seemed, swing down from a branch, using the tale of a python to propell himself toward the gigantic and dangerous morel. I felt him land with a thump upon its broad back. I witnessed the flash of sharp steel as it drove downward, again and again, spearing the life from this dangerous fungi. And then, finally, it was over nearly as fast as it had begun. The morel was dead.
I said to the man-beast "Thank you. You saved my life."
He replied "It was my pleasure Goodweed."
"How do you know my name?"
"Because we have shared a recipe or two, from DC..."
All right kids, help me complete this short story. Fill in the blanks as to who my savior was, and why he saved me from the ever dangerous Morel.
Oh, in real life, I found no morels my first time out, But I caught five brook trout, three of which were too small, so I carefull removed the hook and threw them back, apparently no worse from their ordeal. The two I kept, well they sure made a great lunch.
Seeeeeeeya; Goodweed of the North
