The Cogan Legend by R. E. Miller Page A

it was even colder.
    They came to a small creek too big to jump across so Charles looked for some logs to balance and cross.  Not far was a downed-tree ideal for walking.  Charles went first.  “Who’s next?” As he put down his gun and held out a hand.  
    â€œI can’t walk across that log. I’ll fall in, and then I will definitely freeze to death,” Rachel complained loudly.
    â€œShush, keep your voice down; we must be quiet.  Come on I’ll help you,” he interjected grabbing Rachel’s arm and helping her cross the log.
    Next, it was his daughter’s turn.  She reluctantly obeyed when he implied, “Ann, come on, take my arm.”  
    Walking, the girls were warm, and except for Rachel’s disgust, they were fine.  Charles had high hopes of shooting a deer; the weather was ideal.  He picked a spot he thought would be good to wait in ambush.  He felt with the snow they’d be able to spot deer more easily.  Charles scraped the snow from a wide circle around them with his boot.  
    â€œWhat are you doing Father?”
    Â â€œIt makes it quieter so the deer can’t hear you.”
    Where they were standing, the sun didn’t hit them at all.  Before a half-hour had passed, the girls both shivered.  Another thirty minutes passed, and they were shaking and dancing behind Charles.  He insisted they stop moving. “The deer will see you if you keep jumping around.”
    The girls couldn’t take it anymore; they couldn’t stop shivering and their feet were frozen.  They were jumping and prancing and making all kinds of gestures behind Charles’ back trying to keep warm.  Rachel kept hitting Ann’s arm and pointing to Charles and with her hands and mouth gestured for them to leave.
    Charles laughed to himself knowing exactly how they felt.
    Â Ann couldn’t take it anymore. “Father, we can’t stand this anymore. Please may we leave?”
    Rachel told Charles, “I’m leaving. I don’t care about any deer.”  She was too cold to care.  “I’ve never been this cold in all of my life, and it’s not me who is being punished, although I wouldn’t know it.”
    Charles, who was just as anxious as they were to leave, wouldn’t admit that he was cold, but he did agree to leave.  This time the girls hurriedly led the way and needed no help crossing the creek.  Charles was left in back of the pack as the girls hurried to return to the lodge.
    When they arrived, the girls hurried to the fire to warm up.  Charles found Mary in the kitchen.  “Mary, as funny as it was to see those two dance and shiver, on the way back I started feeling a little guilty.  Perhaps what I did was cruel.”
    â€œI don’t think it was cruel,” Mary assured him.  “Neither of them got hurt, and they’ll remember it for a long time.  I think it was good for them.”
    Charles sat on a kitchen chair and began removing his boots.  “I suppose they’ll be mad at me though.”
    â€œMaybe so, but I wouldn’t worry about that.”  She brought him a cup of coffee from the stove.  “What’s done is done.  My mom used to say, ‘No use crying over spilled milk.’
    â€œThank you, Mary.  It’s good to have a woman’s perspective on this.”  He took a drink of coffee.  “Thank you.”
    Mary turned back to her chores feeling like she could burst into song at any moment.
    Several hours later after warming themselves both girls approached Charles. “Father, I’m never going deer hunting or any kind of hunting again.  Please never bring it up again.”
    â€œI can tell you, I’m never going again under any circumstance,” Rachel added.
    Charles just grinned.  “But wasn’t the experience worth it?”
    Neither responded as they left the