there was a World Famous Bear Hunter named Ben. So successful was he in bagging the largest game in the forest, Ben's reputation as the youngest AND greatest provider of meat, furs and sustenance was known far and wide.

But, after three years in his village, Ben grew restless. He'd already bagged the largest and fiercest game in a fifty mile radius around his village. He knew it was time to move on. Not to alarm the elders in his village, he only shared his restlessness with his family and a few close friends. One such friend was the village Sage--Merlin.

"Oh, Merlin, I don't know what to do. I grow weary wearing deeper ruts in the same hunting paths I've followed for the past three years. Life is good in this part of the forest, but I need new adventures--bigger game. I need to explore new, uncharted territories, or I fear I'll simply fade into a shadow of myself. What would you do, in my shoes?"

"Ben, you're a great Bear Hunter. My own lodge has warmth and comfort from the large bearskins you provided. My pantry's full from the meat of your conquests. But, I understand--it may be time to move on. I've heard in the wind that the deep forests to the North have plentiful game, animals the size of which you and I have never seen before. In my dreams I hear the pounding of hooves. I believe an expedition may be heading Northward very soon."

Ben's eyes glowed like hot coals. He tried to imagine game that would dwarf the largest bears he'd bagged to date, and could not. But the fire in his heart matched the glow in his eyes:

"Merlin, you've captured my imagination with the prospect of joining the expedition. But, how do I know that this is my calling? My family is safe, happy and warm where we are. What if I make a mistake?"

"That, my brave young hunter, is a risk you must take and a decision only you can make."

And so it was . . . . Within days a small group of explorers and settlers arrived in Ben's village on their way Northward. At a welcoming feast for the visitors, Ben met several of the expedition leaders. The tales they told of the wild, uncharted North Country enflamed Ben even further. Late in the night, long after most of the village had gone to sleep, the leader of the expedition asked Ben to come along:

"Merlin said you're the greatest Bear and Big Game Hunter in these parts. Would you care to join us? We can always use a hunter of your prowess!"

Ben was locked on the horns of a dilemma. As he turned the situation over in his mind, he knew his current life needed no major adjustment. He was known and respected where he was. The big game in his forest, while not that challenging, was far from depleted. And, he reasoned, if this expedition had come by so soon after his decision to move on, would not there be an even more enticing expedition just ahead?

"I appreciate the offer. And, I promise you I'll give it my most serious consideration. When do you leave?"

"We'll stay another day to rest the pack animals and take off at dawn, the next."

Ben didn't sleep that night. His heart and mind were torn by this unexpected and not unwelcome opportunity. On the one hand, it sounded like the answer to his prayers. On the other . . ., he'd be giving up all he'd worked so hard to build here, in his home village. Once again he approached Merlin:

"Merlin, I don't know what to do. They want me to join them--and part of me leaps at the chance. But it's the first opportunity I've looked at. What if I'm making a mistake?"

"Young Ben, I see many things in my dreams. But, reading the future of any one man, I cannot. Opportunity is a sunset--it's breathtaking, but fleeting. Will there be another? Of course, but no two are ever quite alike, and just because the one we see is the first one, that doesn't make it any less beautiful."

It was afternoon. The expedition had begun to pack fresh meat, water and other provisions for their journey at dawn. Ben could not decide. He recognized that this was a spectacular option, one that would ease the restlessness in his soul. But, still--what if there were other brave explorers going to even further places? The sunset that night was spectacular. Ben didn't know if he'd ever seen one more beautiful. Unsure of what to do, Ben went to his lodge to pack.

As he readied his first pack, the sun cleared the mountains to the west. His village lay in darkness and the memory of that gorgeous sunset grew less and less vivid. Memories of all his great conquests, the love and respect of his family and friends were like a magnet, pulling at his heart.

. . .

At dawn the expedition was pulling out of Ben's village. Ben stood in front of his lodge with a vacant look on his face. He STILL wasn't sure. He remembered Merlin's advice. The memory of last evening's sunset was murky. The warmth and familiarity of his village was too strong for him to leave. And besides, he reasoned, there'd be another expedition coming through soon enough. After all, this was only the first opportunity he'd considered. Ben let the expedition leave without him.

Three more years passed. Every now and then there was a sunset that reminded Ben of the one three years ago. But, strangely, none held the luminescence of the one he'd let pass. The big game in his forest was all but depleted. The past winter, Ben had had to go out with the younger boys, hunting deer and raccoon, something he'd given up as a child. He looked old and haggard. Hunting held no challenge for him. No other expedition ever came. Ben was a shadow of his former self. One day he passed Merlin's lodge and saw the elder smoking a pipe near his door:

"Merlin, I think I made a mistake by not going North."

"I can see it in the lines in your face. You traded the opportunity of a lifetime for what you have now."

"But, it was only the first opportunity I'd looked at."

Merlin replied: "Yet you've never seen a sunset that rivaled the one you let pass. Now you must live in the lodge of your decision."

Ben soon quit hunting altogether. He lived a peaceful, if unrewarding life in his home village. He watched the young hunters come and go with bitterness and misery. He died a peaceful, but boring death, in his sleep.

If at first you kiss a frog that turns into a prince, stop there--you could kiss a thousand more and end up with nothing more than warts.

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