The Holy Hunted

The Hunter
The wind blew and whipped through the forest, lashing at the little tent, sitting alone, it's single occupant sleeping soundly, and unaware of what lurked outside. A shadow moved, leaves rustled, the silent figure moved forward. SNAP!! A small twig broke under foot. The shadow stopped. The moon came out from behind the clouds, but it gave little light as it strived to shine through the thick canopy of leaves. The silent unknown continued walking, now and then, walking through a small, pale moonbeam, eyes glinting green.
The person inside the tent turned over, a small smile on his face as he dreamed; still not knowing that something was coming nearer.
The black mysterious came closer and closer, suddenly the thing was there, standing over the slumbering prey. Without warning, a light came blasting through the tree trunks; the shadow took one startled look at the blinding radiance, and took off running as fast as it could go.
The next morning, Jim Watkins, woke up with a yawn and a stretch. Getting out of his tent, he started a fire from the coals from the night before. Looking at his watch, he figured that the rest of his hiking group wasn't due for another hour. Taking out his Bible, he turned to Psalms.
The Lord is my Shepard,
I shall not want.
He leads me beside still waters.
And, lo, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil…
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After finishing that text, he got up and looked around. Glancing down at his feet, he saw the biggest paw of a mountain lion he had ever seen in his life. Knowing that food was scarce, he wondered about something. Following the footprints of the cougar back, his suspicions were affirmed. The cougar, desperate and hungry, had stalked him from where ha had left the marker on the side of the trail for his friends. The large feline had walked along the exact route Jim had covered late yesterday afternoon. The tracks came up and circled around the tent twice, before they stopped in front of the doorway to his tent, which he had left open, as it was a hot and sticky night. Jim knew God alone had saved him from this awful and gruesome death. Relating this story to his Pathfinder group, Jim flipped back to Psalms, and made special emphasis on, "And, lo, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil…"