BANG! BANG!

I have never hunted.
Well, except once at summer camp in the coastal mountains of California when three of us jr-highers decided to go after some rattle snakes with our wrist-rockets. (It was a family camp so I’m really not sure where our parents were.) The camp cook promised he would cook it if we caught it. Yes, it did taste like chicken.
Ok. Now that I’ve defended my manhood…
I have never hunted but I do know what those ugly orange vests are for. You’re out in the wild tuning your ear to the slighted rustle and interpreting it. You’re on the alert because you are in a sort of competition. You win if you can react before your prey does. Your reaction involves shooting and the prey’s reaction involves running.
At some point in human history, someone noticed that under those circumstances we can shoot at something that isn’t really prey, like a fellow hunter. So hunters wear something a little extra, the orange vest that says, “Hey, we’re friends. Remember? Don’t shoot.”

“A soft answer turns away anger.”