The Rest of the Story (My Dream)

The Rest of the Story (continuation of my dream)
Then suddenly a voice startled me and I eased the safety on and turned to see who it was. Of course the noise and the motion alerted the deer and they quickly dashed into the brush waving their white tail flags as they went scampering away. Standing there watching me was a tall man dressed in a ranger’s uniform. I could hardly believe that he had been able to approach so close to me without me having any awareness of his presence. His strong facial features and dark complexion told me he was Indian but what caught my attention the most was the badge pinned on his jacket pocket. He spoke again introducing himself as Simon Fetterson, the game ranger for the county. He told me that he had seen a pickup parked up on the ridge road and had followed the trail down into the canyon and that he had been watching me for some time. I showed him my "life time license’ and he acknowledged that he was satisfied with my I.D. and apologized for having caused me to not get a shot off at the deer. With that he departed with a quick stride and in a moment disappeared around a bend in the trail that led up to the road leaving me standing there scratching my head and wondering about what just occurred. The deer were gone and the daylight soon would be; so I too made my way up the trail to my truck. I knew I could not have been far behind the ranger when I reached the road, but the ranger or his vehicle were nowhere in sight nor was there any sign that anyone but me had been there at all. On my way off the mountain I first drove to the highest point I could find and using my cell phone made a call to Danny Clubb, my brother-in-law, who also is a ranger. I described to Danny the events of my afternoon. Danny told me that my story was pretty strange since the ranger for the county I was in was a ranger named Jack Waymire. Danny has been a ranger for close to 30 years and knows all the state’s rangers and told me that there was not anyone by the name of Simon Fetterson that was a ranger in Oklahoma and certainly there was no one working for the Wildlife Department in Southeastern Oklahoma with that name. Then he told me the strangest part of all. Danny told me how that among Oklahoma’s first game rangers way back in the 1920's was a ranger who was remembered as one of the Departments finest ever who was a Choctaw named Simon Fetterson. He told me how Simon Fetterson had been shot by a poacher he had trailed into the very canyon where I had hunted today. I thanked Danny for the information and slowly drove on out of the mountains and made my way to the house thinking as I drove that my freezer was already full of meat and I didn’t really need to shoot a deer this year anyway and that the quality of that call to Danny was pretty scratchy and I would need to get him to tell me that Simon Fetterson story again the next time that I saw him in person . And besides all that this is just a dream and I don’t even own a cell phone.