The Education of a Trapper

The Education of a Trapper

As he reached out to examine the remains of the snare he'd set, he tripped mine. Before he could emit a gasp, his arm was wrenched painfully above his head, and he was jerked from a kneeling position straight up until he hung, swinging slowly by the ensnared limb.

"You can scream all you like," I said quietly, stepping from the place where I'd been lying in wait. "We both know there's no one within twenty-five miles to hear you."

His feet kicked in desperation, hoping for a purchase that was a lifetime out of reach. His eyes darted about wildly, trying to get a clearer view of whoever was responsible for his ensnarement.

"What do you want, he stammered?" through gritted teeth.

The snare I'd set for him, having tightened around his wrist by the full weight of his body, was biting deeply into the skin and cutting off the flow of blood to his hand.

"Me?" I said in an even voice. "I want to teach you more about your craft than you ever wanted to know."

"I can see you're already beginning to learn your first lesson I continued. Snares are terribly painful."

The trapper swung in an arc as he tried to reach his trapped hand with his free one. Even though he could reach it, his efforts to extricate himself were going to be hopeless, and we both knew it.

He reached for his knife, attempting to cut the wire cable that bound him. I reached out with my foot…