I carefully pick my way through the mountain laurels and hollys scanning the ground for mushrooms, shed antlers, or really anything interesting. I smile at the fat grey squirrel hanging upside down in a big shag bark hickory, barking at me, telling the world about the intruder. The machine gun like sound of a pileated wood pecker in the distance pauses the squirrel for a moment. I keep moving following a well-worn deer trail along the mountainside. Coming across a small spur, I spot a wash with a small creek running down from some spring higher up the ridge. As I drew closer, I spotted a grouping of bright red mushrooms and smiled at the thought of them fried in rendered bear fat with ramps and maybe a squirrel. Reaching the creek, I grab a mushroom and examine it, confirming it is a cinnabar chantrelle, one of the few mushrooms my stepfather taught me about. I gather them cutting off the stem to leave as much dirt behind as possible before placing them in a mesh bag at my hip where their spores can be spread throughout the rest of my hike. I work my way down the creek gathering as I go, filling one gallon sized bag and half another before the patch disappears. I continue along the creek until I find another well-worn deer trail to follow back around the southern face of the ridge toward my little homestead. I quietly slip my slingshot from my bag and place a steel bullet in the pouch. I scan the trees and the under story for squirrels, rabbits, or grouse. It''s not long before I get a shot at a healthy looking younger squirrel. I line up the shot and release the band, and watch the bullet zip through the air, nearly beheading my unaware victim who falls twitching from the tulip poplar he was sitting in. The small stab of pain in my heart for killing the little feller is overshadowed by my perfect shot. He felt nothing and lived a better life than any commercial meat. I pray I can have such a clean death up in the mountains where I belong. I walk over to pick him up, and as I grab his tail, my foot hits a piece of shale covered in wet leaves, shooting out from under me. For a fraction of a second, I feel myself falling squirrel in hand, ending abruptly as my head explodes in an instant hot pain, which quickly gives way to darkness.


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