Well, the coon was tattered and torn and pretty much Jeff and I also. No real physical injury but our brains needed some understanding. After we leashed the hounds we discussed our next plan thinking we were finally back in control. We figured bringing the two pups was not that good of an idea but getting live fur into the mouth of a dog in training was. Maybe it wasn't to many dogs, just not enough hunters.When I say pups I mean more green and inexperienced like husky teenagers. We were lost and we new it. The sky was still dark and starless. Along with this disappointment was the cold rain that had begun to fall, right into our eyes. The question" to hunt or not to hunt" was then, pretty much settled. This stuff could turn to ice at any moment. We settled on heading south. You may ask how a lost one could reason that, on a dark rainy night with no compass etc. Well the moss on the north side of the tree of course. Every Boy Scout was taught this. Off we went assured that we would not travel more than five miles to a road. Trying to keep the mutts, I use the derogatory, because it may relate the frustration of the entanglements encountered.
When two dogs want to hunt and sniff all directions while you hope to maintain a straight course, it tends to rile you up a bit, not to mention keeping in touch with your companion who is suffering the same fate.
Leashes short as possible we trudged on thinking how nice a change of clothes and a nice warm truck will be. When at last we noticed a lighter patch of sky on the horizon (if you will) in the deep woods.Hey Jeff, there is a road. Yeah, I see. No sign of poles, wires or traffic as we immersed from the canopy of oaks.
No pavement. Perhaps a lawn. No houses just trees in a circle with a three foot diameter spring hole in the center. Ah, crap!
To be continued----