Aliens Come to Deer Camp

The frenzy of a long weekend with eight other guys has passed.  Seven deer found their way to the camp meat pole - three bucks (an eight, nine and ten pointer) and four does.  Yesterday we processed six of the deer and dropped one of the big does-off at Marchant's Foods for the local food pantry.  Today I went back to town and dropped sixty pounds of venison trimmings at the butcher for grinding and packaging.  Whew!

This afternoon I hunted by myself and upon climbing into my stand was surprised to find a collection of nine fist-sized rocks carefully arranged in the corner of the floor.

This is completely strange as none of the guys hunting here had any time for rock collecting.  Or carrying them around with them and then climbing into a stand to place them there.

The only explanation is that the aliens are sending me a cryptic message.

Perhaps they want nine pounds of ground venison conveniently packaged in one pound packs and frozen for intergalactic travel?

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