Four o'clock in the morning the snow was so deep it appeared to be daylight outside. Elijah had just finished breakfast and was pondering the day that lied ahead. Today is the first day of deer hunting season and the weather would not stand in his way. At twenty three years old this would be the first successful hunt. Elijah is half Cherokee Indian and to complete the ritual of manhood you must prove yourself a worthy hunter. The process involves consuming the raw, warm heart of the first deer killed and is believed that by doing so the hunter ingests the spirit of the animal. Over the years his family looked down upon him for coming up short but he was convinced that this will be the season of redemption. Once at the age of nine he shot at the legendary Di-hi-a-wi, he watched him fall but in the blink of an eye disappeared; no blood was found just rustled foliage. Di-hi-a-wi in Cherokee means killer deer. Indian folklore has it this large animal is of the Great Spirit never to be taken by man. Stories circulated how over the years the massive creature was responsible for the deaths of many experienced hunters by his razor sharp antlers.

The trek up the mountain was long and cumbersome. The snow made it difficult every step of the way but Elijah was determined. He must reach the spot his Grandfather would always place him. The elder has been gone for five years but his spirit lives on. Before his death he gave Elijah his Grandfathers rifle. It was an old tried and true weapon with an eagle feather tied to the sling for good luck. No one really knew how many deer it had taken but speculation had it in the thousands. Light snow began to fall as Elijah reached the old brush pile overlooking a clearing on the ridge. The old trees would help him blend in to the surroundings, but it will get colder as the wind picks up.

Comfortable in his position, Elijah donned the old parka to protect him from the weather. By now the snow was coming down hard and his vision was limited to only a few feet. He pulled the hood further over his eyes when he felt the sting of every flake. The wind blew, the trees swayed, and braches could be heard cracking from the weight of the heavy snow. Even in the dead of winter the mountain screamed with life. Thoughts were moving through Elijah's head like water in a swollen river. "All this to prove I'm a man", "will I be stranded", "Indian tradition", "If I did kill a deer, would I freeze to death getting it home"? Through all of the confusion he thought he heard something. Was it a snort from an animal, or perhaps another tree cracking? Elijah's attention was focused on every noise, his body cold and shaking felt like he had grabbed a live electrical wire. He heard it again and moved the parka away from his eyes. A dark blur appeared down the hill from the brush pile. Was it an animal, a person or is it really there? Grandfather taught the whole family to never point a gun at something you don't plan to shoot so the rifle stayed by his side. Elijah's heart was beating faster and faster, his head felt like it was ready to burst. "Rationalize, I must calm down or I will not be able to shoot if it is a deer" he told himself. The wind gave a reprieve and the creature showed itself. It was a deer, the largest Elijah had ever seen. Both the deer and the hunter looked each other in the eye from a distance of ten feet. The antlers seemed to tower atop the animal and steam poured from his nose. The cold, snow and wind no longer had an effect on the hunter. With his heart ready to explode, he raised the rifle to his shoulder, peered through the sights at the deer's chest, took a breath and as he slowly let it out the deer crumpled to the ground. The rifle had fired as if by itself, Elijah didn't even recall hearing the sound or pulling the trigger.

The color of red stained the white ground. Steam was still protruding from the beasts nostrils. It wasn't dead but he wasn't moving. Father had always warned that an injured animal will kill if it can't get away. Elijah couldn't keep his eyes off of the deer's eyes; it was if they were both contemplating the next move. He moved forward from the brush pile with caution, weapon in hand and ready to shoot. Knowing it was dangerous the man knelt down beside the animal and started stroking his fur. The left hind quarter had a bump as if someone had shot him years prior and healed it itself. Looking into his eyes the hunter knew this was Di-hi-a-wi and sadness became his heart. Elijah thought he knew this feeling and then it finally came to him. This is exactly how he felt when he held his Grandfathers hand as he laid dieing. Trying to convince himself that this was a right finally achieved didn't make him feel any better. The deer tilted his head skyward and steam drifted up for the last time, Elijah could feel the deer's spirit escape to the heavens and suddenly the cold wind returned.

With the carcass prepared for dragging the hunter checked his gear and noticed the eagle feather from the rifle sling missing. As he searched the weather worsened. The decision was made to get the deer home and come back in the morning to retrieve the prized possession. Di-hi-a-wi was as difficult to move in death as he was illusive in life. The journey was complete when they reached home and the deer was hanging in the barn. Elijah removed his thick apparel outside and entered the kitchen to wash his hands. Passing by the table he ate breakfast at earlier that morning he noticed the eagle feather placed where his plate had been. A smile came across his face, the hunt was over.