Morning all. Hope you are doing well on this blazing hot Thursday morning. I swear drops of sweat sizzle as they hit the concrete and the sun is barely up. It made my pre-sunrise garden spot watering seem pointless. Can corn actually pop on the stalks? But we are indoors now, and hydrating. So timers set and off we go.
This did not go where I thought it would. I didn’t really have any expectations, but I now thing that it isn’t an elk in the ravine. I do seem to be leaning towards murder plots lately. Perhaps I ought to give in and write some murder mysteries.
Thursday, July 31st: The rocks were flecked with blood.
The rocks were flecked with blood. Ian leaned forward. ‘Maybe it isn’t blood,’ he thought. He had heard certain types of fungi and moss were reddish brown.
‘Maybe it is blood colored lichen,’ he thought. Then the scent hit. A slight coppery whiff. Not much, the limestone boulders had been baking in the sun, the blood drying quickly. There was still enough of the scent to let him know it wasn’t lichen.
‘Sloppy hunter,’ he thought. Permits didn’t extend into this territory but if someone was sloppy, gotten in a shot that wasn’t quite a kill shot and one of the elk got away, there was the possibility they could have reached this area.
He frowned. The boulders were at the edge of a cliff. If some injured animal had scrambled over them then they would have fallen over the edge and more than likely broken their neck in the fall. ‘At least it would end the suffering,’ he thought. ‘Depending on the animal.’
He let his eyes follow the trail of blood. “Definitely over the edge,” he said. Unless the creature had wings, it wouldn’t have survived the fall. Curious, he edged forward. He avoided the dried patches of blood, noting the ones in the shade were still tacky and probably where the scent was coming from.
‘Couldn’t have happened too long ago.’ In this heat even the shady spots would have dried in a matter of hours. Ian edged closer to the drop off wondering what type of animal it was. He knew he would be reporting in and liked to give details. He couldn’t see anything without getting too close to the sde.ge.
“When it doubt, improvise,” he told himself. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and engaged the camera function. He leaned as far forward as he felt comfortable with and then extended the hand holding the camera. He took several photos and then backed up taking pictures of the rock.
“That should be enough for Gary,” he decided, not bothering to look at the photos.
He could let Gary know about the animal’s demise and let him decide if a hunter had violated the boundaries. He turned off his cell phone and put it in his pocket, zipping it closed. His day was about done anyway and he figured he’d have a better chance of catching Gary if he arrived early.
‘I can always get an early night,’ he thought.
The thought made him smile as he generally had a lengthier to do list than he could stay awake. He might be leaving the mountain earlier than planned but there was a mountain of other tasks awaiting him. He headed down to Gary’s office.
When he arrived, the door was open. Ian cautiously walked through and saw Gary was just wrapping up with someone. It wasn’t someone he knew so he hung back, waiting patiently until their business was done. Ian heard only a few basic questions about permits and figured it was business as usual. Finally, they were through and Gary motioned him into his inner sanctum. Gary didn’t look pleased.
“You know how some folks as for forgiveness rather than permission,” Gary said. “I think that guy was one of them.”
“Ian nodded. “He wanted a permit extension?”
“He did,” Gary said.
“I think I might know why,” Ian said. He told him about the blood. “I couldn’t see anything when I leaned so I extended the camera. Hopefully it caught enough to let you know what kind of animal.”
“You didn’t look?” Gary asked.
Ian shrugged. “Wanted to let you know before you left. Might not have seen anything at all.” He handed Gary the phone.
Ten til Midnight 