Dekalb County was a drag

The pressure in my head was unbearable. I took two Goodies powders in hope of taking the edge off although I knew from experience that sinus pressure would not go away completely no matter how many pain killers you take. After a drink of water I refocused on the task at hand reached down and grabbed the rope I had tied off to the doe's front legs and head and continued to drag the corpse up the ridge. I had shot the doe early in the morning and had tracked it all day off the property we had permission to be on, up and down ridges, across creeks within sight of houses and finally into a thicket. The poor creature died for lack of blood not from my accuracy with a bow. I was proud of my tracking prowess but embarrassed by my lack of summer practice with my compound bow. It was now afternoon and I strangely felt like a fugitive sneaking back across enemy lines. I don't think anyone would have said anything to me except for the sportsman's club who leased the neighboring property , which I had to cross to retrieve the deer. At this point I would have given any thing to have found someone earlier to ask for permission to cross the private land but I had always figured I would find the deer over the next rise and be gone in a flash. I picked up the pace pulling the deer which seemed to increase in size with every step. I had made it back to the sacred ground of the land I had permission to hunt covered in sweat and wanting to lay down. It was that moment when I heard my father's voice over the two-way radio saying. Hey Gabe, Bill and I have two deer down and need you to come drag them to the truck. I thought Dekalb County is a great place to hunt if you don't mind dragging deer.