When I was about 16, I was a big squirrel hunter, just about all i did. One overcast morning I mis-estimated the time it would get get light enough to see. I walked about a half mile back into the woods and it was still pitch black dark when a bunch of coyotes cut loose and it sounded like they were in my back pocket. My head knew they weren't dangerous but the rest of me was ready to bolt and run. I kept walking and eventually came to a big open pin oak flat where I could see a little bit. The coyotes were now inside my shirt with me. I decided the best course of action was to sit down on a big hollow log in the middle of the flat where I'd at least have a chance to take out a couple before they eviscerated me. About the time I sat down on the end of that log, a big cane cutter rabbit spooked out of that log and went right between my feet. I knew I was as good as eaten but I ran anyway. I went maybe 50 yds at a speed that would have shamed Usain Bolt before I looked back. The rabbit had done the same thing. I tried to sneak up on him to shoot him for scaring me so bad but he took off and I never got a shot. I killed a few squirrels and made it home intact with the exception of a few grey hairs and the rabbit got to live another day