The Spirit of WELCA

The bravest and strongest hunters of the village gathered by the flickering embers of the campfire. Their dogs lay quietly nearby, dreaming of the hunt to come. The magnificent Great Stag had been seen again. Farmers had spotted the immense creature standing proudly high on the crags. Travelers caught glimpses of it bounding through the woods. Women and children insisted they had seen a grand, noble animal that looked like an enormous deer disappearing into the morning fog or standing at the edge of a field at twilight. What’s more, they had found its tracks – huge prints in plowed fields or in rain-washed roads. Yes, there was no doubt about it; the Great Stag was on the move.

The Hunt

Each hunter gazed into the fire, his eyes gleaming not only with firelight but also with hope. Each prayed it would be his dogs that found the trail of the Great Stag and that his eyes would be the first to catch sight of the creature. They hunted this Stag not to kill the magnificent animal, for it was told that to the one who captured it alive would pass down power, insight, and untold wealth fit to benefit generations.

In the morning a battle cry arose from the mighty men. Quickly they gathered their kit, mounted their mighty steeds, and swept into the forest. On and on they rode, through wilderness and forest, over hill and dale, through streams and glade, hounds baying in the excitement of the chase.

For days and days, the hunt went on. At times the hunters grew weary, but each new sighting of the Great Stag’s tracks renewed their energy. The Great Stag was elusive, and they knew the chase would not be easy. But the prize was worth every effort, so they pressed on.

After many days of trekking through the bush and briar, the dogs were tired, the hunters were dog-tired. All were famished. Their food supply was diminishing, and daily rations had become too meager to fill the gnawing emptiness in their bellies. Nonetheless, before the morning fog had lifted the next day, the men mounted and took up their chase.

With the hunting dogs far in front, one man in the middle of the pack of hunters glimpsed something moving to his right. Something moving swiftly through the fog. Surely it was the Great Stag! He spurred his mount, moving quickly away from the others, and soon spotted the movement again. The hunter followed doggedly, going farther away from his companions. At last, his persistence paid off. He had run his foe into a narrow box canyon. Finally, his prey was right in front of him! But instead of the Great Stag… it was a rabbit. A Skinny Rabbit at that.

Exhilaration turned to exhaustion for the Hunter. The long-eared creature that had drawn him so far off course was only now shown to be unworthy of the chase. This rabbit was thin as a hemlock twig, and its scrawny bones had no meat on them. The warrior turned away in disappointment and disgust and swung wearily into his saddle. He had wasted his time and much-needed energy, and by following a rabbit trail instead of the real trail, he had fallen far behind his companions.

He reined his horse around to retrace his steps. But he found no trace of his trail in the bush and briars. He tried his best to remember the path, but soon to his dismay, he realized it was hopeless. He had been so intent on chasing the Skinny Rabbit that he had lost his bearings, cut himself off from the other hunters, and totally lost the trail of the Great Stag.

Darkness descended into the forest. Ominous yellow eyes glowed from the brushes, and menacing growls chilled his bones. He dared not stop but wandered through the trees and brush, hoping somehow to find his companions and pick up the trail of the Great Stag. Soon the ground began to slope downward, leading the warrior to hope he was approaching a stream he might follow out of the forest. He spurred his horse forward, but instead of water, he found himself mired in a thick bog, so deep his horse could no longer lift his feet.

The warrior hung his head in despair. Not only had he lost his way; not only had he wasted valuable time and energy; not only was he exhausted; but he knew he had lost his chance to achieve his great goal… and would regret it for years to come.

All because he had chased that accursed Skinny Rabbit.