108 Here sometime ago I was hunting. As you know, I love to hunt. And there was a wicked guy in that country. [Blank.spot.on.tape—Ed.] He was a wicked fellow. And he used to make fun of me because I wouldn't shoot does and fawns. I said, "It's brutal." I said, "Why don't you be a real clean hunter and shoot the old bucks and things that's old and ready to die. God gave them to us; let them young mothers and things…"
He said, "Ah, you're chicken-hearted, preacher," kept telling me like that.
I said, "Now, look, if I was hungry and I wanted one of those fawns, I believe God would let me have it. But just to shoot it just to act smart," well, he'd fill a wagon up. And he went and made him a call, some kind of a whistle, and he could blow that whistle and sound just exactly like a little fawn calling. One day we was in the bushes together. I shamed him; I said, "I'd be ashamed of myself." Killed eight or ten fawns one time, if he could, does and everything, just to act smart, maybe cut the hind quarters off and leave the rest of it lay there. I said, "You oughtn't…"
"Ah," said, "you preachers are too chicken-hearted."
111 One day he stood back in the bushes; and he took a hold of this whistle and he screamed; it sounded like a little fawn crying. Just as he did that, a beautiful doe stuck her head out, come stomping out. You could see her big brown eyes looking. She was startled. She was looking around. The hunter raised down, pulled up his rifle to shoot the doe. And the doe seen the hunter. But, you know what, that scream of that fawn, she didn't notice that gun. She was looking for that baby; it was in trouble. You know, that display of real motherhood and mother love that she'd faced that gun in the face, for death, looking at that in the muzzle of that gun… You know what, that display was so great, it got next to him; he threw down his gun. He run back and grabbed me around the arm; he said, "Billy, pray for me; I had enough of this." When he seen that display of mother heroism…
Oh, when the world sees the display of the love of God, and the gallant in our human heart, what a difference it'll be. When we let the Dove of God come to our heart in gentleness, make us meek…
There in that brush arbor back there, me standing there praying for that old boy, I led him to the Lord Jesus. From then on he was a good clean hunter.
Sure, he thought he had a right; he'd do what he wanted to. "Them's on my place; they eat my alfalfa down there if they want to."
I said, "That's right, but it's unhuman to do that." You got to forfeit your rights. O God, have mercy, that we will.
56-0805 - The Church And Its Condition
Rev. William Marrion Branham