ON THANKSGIVING, A HUNTER GIVES HIS PREY GOOD REASON TO BE THANKFUL

Harry Middleton

November 21, 1983

The morning was cold, and as Aubrey walked from his house he pulled his gray coat up about his neck, lit a cigarette and put his thermos and .308 rifle on the front seat of his pickup truck. A thick fog hung low over Silk Stocking Road, so Aubrey put his brown 1968 Ford truck into low gear and drove cautiously toward town. From somewhere down the rail line to Meridian a diesel train horn sounded, filling the chilly November morning with its booming noise. The sound pleased Aubrey. It reminded him of his youth and the long winter days spent in the pine woods. No matter how far back into the Mississippi hills a man went, he could still hear the trains moving across the land, especially on clear winter nights, a cold moon rising.