So we hunted till about, up about eleven o’clock, and we didn’t see a track or a sign. About four inches, six inches of snow, good tracking weather, not a sign nowhere…Moonlight night, course and them deer feeding at night…But we couldn’t find even a track. And I said, “Well, it’s going to be pretty bad.”
92 We walked on, about eleven o’clock, and all at once, he kind of…He come to an opening, be about twice the size of this building here. Bert kind of stooped down, and he put his hand back in his coat like this, and I thought “Well, he’s going to—we’re going eat a bite of lunch, and maybe separate, and him go one way and I another, and work our way in. Nine or ten o’clock tonight we’d be back to our camp.”
So he reached down there, pulled out this little whistle, and I said…Now, I thought he was going to get his lunch, but he pulled out this little whistle. And he put it up to his mouth, and give a little call like a little baby fawn bleating for its mammy, you know, like that. And when he did that, he looked up at me.
93 And I noticed right across the little opening there a great big, beautiful doe stood up. See, she was hid, but when she heard that call of that baby, she was a mother. Instinct in her rose up. Now, she wouldn’t have ordinarily done that at that time of day. But I could see them big ears like that, and those big brown eyes looking around. What was it? A baby and a mother. And he looked over at me, and them lizard eyes looked up at me.
I thought, “Bert, you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that.”
He said, “Shh…” and he took that whistle again, and he blowed it again. And the deer stepped right out into that opening. Oh, my. That’s unusual. And I seen him look up again, pull that lever back, and throwed that big hundred and eighty grain bullet in that .30-06: a dead shot.
94 I seen him level down like this, you know. And thought, “Oh, oh. Just a second more, and he will drive the heart of that mother, that loyal heart, plumb through her (See?) with that big hundred and eighty grain mushroom going right through that loyal heart. A mother looking for her baby, how could you be so deceitful.”
She stomped when the—the latch went out on the gun. You know what it is, in a model 70, when the latch goes down, it makes a little noise. She turned. She seen the hunter. Now, usually she’s spooked, we call it, gone, like that. But not her. She was right in the face of death, but her baby was in need. She was loyal. She wasn’t a hypocrite. She wasn’t putting something on. She wasn’t a make-believe; she was a mother. There was something in her was mother.
And I thought, “O God, there’s a lesson. ‘Yet a mother may forget her suckling babe, but never will I forget you. Your name’s engraved on the palms of My hand.’”
95 I thought, “Bert, surely you can’t do that.” I was behind some bush to the deer, but I was looking through—through some snow hanging on the little spruce and watching. And I seen that gun come up there. And oh, my, what—what a crack shot he was.
I couldn’t look at it. I thought, “That loyal mother…” I thought, “How real, she’s walked right out there in the face of that.” And them ears, that nose, she caught that hunter setting there; but that didn’t make her no difference. She was ready to go to death. Why? That baby was crying. And she was trying to find it. She was a mother. There was something inside of her was mother, inside of her. She was born a mother, and she was looking for that baby. She wasn’t noticing the danger. It didn’t make any difference. She was watching for that baby.
96 I turned my head. I couldn’t watch it. I turned my head. I said, “Heavenly Father, be merciful to Bert. Don’t let him do it, God. That precious mother standing there with that real loyal heart beating beneath there, looking for her baby…Don’t let him do it, Father.” And I kept standing there, praying to myself. I was listening to hear that gun crack any minute. But the gun didn’t go off.
After about a full minute or two, I turned around, and the gun barrel was shaking like this. And he looked up to me, and the tears was streaming down out of them eyes. He looked at me, and his lips was quivering. He throwed the gun on the bank. He said, “Billy, I’ve had enough of it.” He grabbed me by the pants leg, and said, “Lead me to that Jesus that you’re talking about.” He’s a deacon—He’s a deacon in a Baptist church.
97 What’s the matter? What was it? He saw something real. He seen something that wasn’t put on. He seen something that was genuine, a real mother, something inside, that she wasn’t afraid of death. She wasn’t afraid of nothing, because she was a mother. Her baby was in need. God, make me a Christian to love my Lord. Like that mother was, as much mother as she was mother, make me a Christian.
62-0628 - A Greater Than Solomon Is Here
Rev. William Marrion Branham
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