A Shot in the Dark

  Maybe it's just me, and usually, it is. 

  Family genealogy is fascinating to me. It's not so much the names, dates of birth, marriages, and eventual deaths, but it is what can be filled in with fact or imagination.

  I have what some might think is a treasure. It is an unpublished book that chronicles my great-great-grandfather's trek from southeastern Ohio to northwest Ohio. And, of course, his wife and sons. 

  It was in the possession of an older cousin, much older. He lent it to me on the condition that it would be returned after I finished reading it. After reading, I handed it over to another cousin, who made two copies, one for him and one for me. I was able to return the original.

  The cousin I originally obtained it from was many times removed from my branch of the family. He didn't even possess my last name. However, it contained a couple of stories thought to be myths with no particular origin.  

  To me, the intriguing part of the book was the chronicle of events that moved my family from Perry County, Ohio, to Mercer County. I calculated the journey to be ten days. 

  There was one very interesting event. At the end of one day, the family set up camp. One of the teenage boys stayed up all night to keep watch. During the night and through the dense trees and underbrush, he saw what appeared to be two sets of eyes. He aimed his flintlock in the middle and fired. The two eyes disappeared. This woke the family. They decided any threat was gone and would wait until morning to investigate.  

  When morning came, Adam and the boys traced to where it was thought the two eyes were seen. They discovered a wolf shot between the eyes. Not bad for a young'un in the night with a flintlock rifle. 

  I heard this story again, but rehashed.

  Over a hundred years later, my dad was stationed at the Panama Canal. He walked guard duty one night. He walked part of his guard post through the jungle. He spotted what he thought was two eyeballs in the jungle. He called out to be identified. No one responded. Dad aimed for between the eyes and fired. The next morning, they conducted an investigation. And a panther was found with a bullet wound between the eyes.  

  Yep, my dad likely borrowed that story. And I have the feeling the other story may have been borrowed also. I suspect that somewhere in my family's history, aeons ago, one of my ancestors shot a bow or hurled a slingshot in the middle of the night and hit something between the eyes.