Home to my family is here in America. All my children grew up in this land of promise. Like most immigrants we adopted the culture of America over night. We became American citizens and pledged our allegiance to this country. My husband and I spent half of our lives in the land of our origin, the Philippines Islands. My husband, Armen & I manage to visit our homeland once a year to have the continuity of relations with our extended family and to remind us of our ancestry. 

The Philippines consist of 7101 islands in the western Pacific Ocean, only 2000 of which are inhabited. Luzon (where I come from) and Mindanao are the largest and comprise roughly 66% of the country's area. 

Only about 1000 islands are larger than one sq. km. And 2500 aren't even named. The Philippine's nearest neighbors are Taiwan (North), Eastern Malaysia & Brunei (South-West) and Indonesia (South). 

About half the country is under cultivation and about a third remains forested. There are more than a 1000 species of birds and animals, notably wild dwarf buffalo, mouse deer, crocodiles, & pythons, Hunting in the mountains would be a hunter's challenge if only there were no guerilla rebels to hunt the hunters. 

During the long hours spent traveling, I managed to recollect and write what had happened during the hunting season here in New York. It had been a long time since I had written and was pressured by my mentor and good friend, Rich Walton.  I was hesitant to submit my story because I felt that although I had been active hunting every season, I had encountered more failures than successes. 

Rich however constantly told me that hunting is an experience in itself and while every hunter dreamed of success, it was not necessary nor was it mandatory in an article. So what have my hunts resulted in? Wonderful times spent out of doors trying to outwit nature's most cunning, resourceful creatures. Do I consider my hunts successful? I have not yet taken a deer. I still consider every hunt a lesson, and a reward. All have to be considered a 'success'. So here is my tale. If you are looking for the photo of a happy hunter holding a set of antlers, you may want to go read one of the many other articles by better, more successful hunters. This is the story of my struggles to get to that point.

I had been tempted many times to suggest to Armen that we needed professional help us bag our first deer. But, I should know better to keep my mouth shut with "such an absurd suggestion" (for me of course it would be the practical, easiest and shortest way to learn). Armen wanted to do it on his own. I wonder if this is "a male macho thing" of doing a man's way? 

Armen and our regular hunting buddies decided to look at a 443 acre land up in the Adirondacks in upstate  N.Y. We must really both love hunting, because it took 7 hours to travel to the hunting site and yet the travel never bothered us. We spent all our free time from work in the woods studying the area. The therapeutic travel that brought out our innermost thoughts that normally couples would not  dare discuss helped us understand each other better and recoup the spark of  lovers. The intermittent silence between us that usually made me uneasy, had brought some inner, comfortable peace and security within me.  I guess hunting with your mate gives that gradual calming effect, like osmosis.

The property is bounded by acres of land leased by other hunters that are from other towns and area. Our group of hunters pledged to work hard to improve the property. The hunting area was in the middle of nowhere. There was no drinking water (Easily fixed by bringing our own) and no restroom (This was harder, we would need to build an outhouse!)   In the mean time, if one needed to go, the shovel would be handy to dig the ground and go! Yaaak!. I had no choice but to dig in whenever I needed to follow the call of nature! The ink in our lease contract had not dried yet,  when my husband and I started tilling and cultivating a chosen area that spring of 1999. 

I thought to myself. 'Wow'! Planting is really cool, man!" 

The coolness evaporated, not gradually but abruptly as the planting progressed to hard, hard, hard work. We were instant farmers taking our cue from the 'easy-to-follow' (?) direction on the bags of seed we ordered through the mail. So picture two city folks trying to be farmers, digging, cultivating and spreading the seeds. We planted the alfalfa and clover sometime July 1999. The bag of seeds meant for a large portion of land ended crowding each other in a very small portion of land. I literally saw the plants grasping for air and elbowing each other for space when the seeds sprouted. The sprouts lay one on top of each other.

"Well at least the seeds saw daylight" my husband muttered while he surveyed what appeared to be a patch of green land in the middle of a field of high grass. 

"Maybe, (scratching his head) next year we don't need  to do this, anyway there is an abundance of food source for the deer and bear." 

Without hesitation I agreed! The whole month of August we spent the four week-ends observing the movements of the deer.   Early September, the deer and bear were eating black berries & red berries. The presence of deep runs and droppings indicated that the animals were plentiful. During the day, we hardly got a glimpse of these creatures. But at nightfall, as we went around the woods, we saw bright pairs of eyes as we beamed our flashlights into the woods. At one time, we saw 15 deer about 10 to 15 yards away from us just staring at us, not moving,  seeming to know that they were in the time zone of truce. 

As the rule dictated we hunted them as soon as the sun went up and quit as the sun went down. At one time a big 10 pointer came parading in front of us and slowly sauntered away,  his  nose up in the air and with a "you can't  touch me" attitude.  These creatures are unpredictable and hard to grasp because I personally think that the deer in this area were as wild as they came. Their sense of smell was twice as sharp as the deer near civilization. Even their young were well trained to discern human scent and were quick to retreat soon as just a teeny weenie whiff of human vapors had been detected. Of course this would only happen during legal hunting hours. At all times that these clever creatures were within the cradle of safety (illegal hours for hunting), they  purposely managed to lackadaisically stroll within our sights. This condition did  not deter our expectation but rather  raised our hope of a successful hunt. 

Armen, built a 6'X6' wooden observation post where we hoped we could spot creatures to hunt from within the small rectangular covered station. We planned to stay and observe the hunting area, so the wooden hunting station was strategically placed at the edge of the food plot area. 

The 100'x100' food plot was looking great because the alfalfa and spinach had grown. We left no cause for the seeds not to blossom. Sprouts were on top of each other and grew a foot high after a month.  Surprisingly, we had not seen  a deer approach the planted area the entire time we were keeping tabs of the growth of the seed. 

On the night of the first day hunting, Armen and I spent the night in the small hunting station. As soon as it got dark, we heard scuffles and commotion going  on outside. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up. As we peered through the darkness, we could not discern anything . We heard the commotion closing in and getting louder. I was beside myself, my hunting partner had to calm me down,  because of his inexperience  he had no idea what was going on. The moon was hidden by the clouds, so the darkness covered the movements of  whatever  was moving in the darkness. 

It sounded like a herd or pack of something all around us. Armen reached for his bow and calmly nocked an arrow. I braced myself to be brave and followed suit, I grabbed my bow and nervously loaded an arrow. Myriads of thought darted in and out of my mind. We were alone, if anything happened to any of us, it would take a long while to reach help. Will they find our body soon enough? 

What will my grieving children think of their bungling wannabes parents? Then long high pitch howls jolted me out of my thoughts.  The sounds came from all directions. It reminded me of Indian drums in the movies before the Indians attack their enemies! The howls sounded like dogs and yet not quite. Again, we heard shuffling and scurrying sounds getting closer to our post. 

Meanwhile there was a break through the clouds and the moon peeked half its light to illuminate the field. We peered through the tiny  8'x12" that were on four sides of the shelter. "COYOTES"!! There was a pack of coyotes surrounding us about 15 yards away ! 

The clouds had completely dissipated and the moon emerged giving us a clear picture of what was going on. We had no idea how many coyotes were out there but 4 or 5 coyotes were framed by the 4 window opening. Rocks covered their body from view.  Likened to cartoon characters there were several alert heads with standing ears on each side of the head peeking above the rocks while 1 or 2 coyotes paced behind  them like lieutenants giving orders what to do next. They were no lovelier creatures. With the moonlight shining on their shifty movements, an eerie feeling overtook me. I had to admit I was feeling very uneasy. 

The knowledge that Armen built the a sturdy shelter, gave me courage but I was still nervous.  We were protected by the  wooden shelter but it would be easier to fend them off before they came closer to our territory and not see them at all. Armen and I retreated from our window post and squatted on the floor. He gave brisk orders which I quickly took without a squeak. 

The plan was simple,  I flashed the light and he shoots his bow towards the coyotes to scare them away1 Simultaneously, we stood  up, I flicked the flash light and he released his arrow! The coyotes scampered in all directions! We both sank to the floor and sighed breaths of relief! After 5 minutes our adrenaline was back to normal until the sound of scampering coyotes nearer to our location jolted us to attention. 

"I thought you hit your target? Why did they come back?" 

Armen was puzzled too and he said, "There is no time to loose we have to shoot at the same time" 

There was no time to think, we both grabbed our bow and because of the brightness of the moon, both of us could see our sight. Armen found his target and a shrill yelp filled the air! I did not find my target, I was just hyperventilating and  my hands were trembling. (Okay guys, get me off the hook).

We waited and finally the tension that built to a crescendo settled into a calm anticipation of what would happen next. After 15 minutes, the normal silence was restored. The coyotes did not come back. We relaxed and were able to process a logical conclusion that it was the food that I stuffed  in my bags that brought them in .When will I ever learn not to bring food?

But still we did not plan to hunt, just observe, yah yah next time there might not be a next time. Next time it might be a pack of black bears and then what? Okay, okay forget about eating! 

We suspected that the pack did not know what was happening the first time Armen drew his bow, when they came back  they realized that the food they were zeroing in was not worth loosing another one of their comrades. With all the excitement and exhaustion, sleep eluded both of us. We waited for the morning to come when both of us would climb our tree stands to begin the real  hunt!

To be continued