A deer hunting tale

[WV Sawmiller]

   Well, I just fat-fingered another reply off into cyberspace. I hate it when I do that.

I used to hunt with a bunch of guys in South Alabama. One of them shot a deer and loaded it in a VW beetle and it came too. They had to abandon the car and eventually got it out and shot it again. It did a real number on the inside of the VW. Another time they spotted a 7 point feeding in an old corn field and shot it and threw it in the back of the truck and rushed away (Probably because they weren't supposed to shooting that close to a road) and it came to and they had to throw it in the yard and shoot it again. I saw one Outdoor magazine article where a guy shot a nice buck, put his rifle across the antlers and stepped back to take a picture and it came to and ran off with the slung rifle around its neck and they never saw the deer or the rifle again.

While carpooling to work one night Dad's driver hit a bobcat. They got out to look at it and pick it up. Dad picked it up by the hind legs and it came too and he stomped on it's neck and stretched it out and yelled for somebody to grab a tire tool or something and finish it off. Mr. Sam Prichartt was riding with them and he was a real nervous type and jumped back in the car and locked all the doors. It took a while to get him to open it so they could get the keys out of the ignition to open the trunk and get the tire tool. Meanwhile Dad is wrestling with a mad injured bobcat that he can't turn loose.

Mom's older/only brother, Uncle Donald, came on a half grown bobcat on a deserted dirt road in N. Fla. one night. It was blinded by his car lights so he had the bright idea of sneaking around behind and catching it which he did but he swore he would never catch another one!

My old HS hunting and fishing buddy's dad said when he was a kid they caught a half grown bobcat and put it in an old suitcase and set it beside the highway and stepped back to watch. A Caddy with NY plates stopped and grabbed the suitcase and sped away. About 100 yards down the road he said all 4 doors came open as people came out all of them.

[Tacotodd]

WV, that last one should have happened to the mob type of per. Probably didn’t, but should’ve 🤣

[WV Sawmiller]

   No, apparently it was just somebody thinking they were going to capitalize on someone else's misfortune. It did not quite work out that way.

[ellmoe]

Howard , when I was with Game and Fish , a jeep hit a doe one night, on the county road next to the wildlife management area I was running, "killing" it. The good " good ole boy " driver and his buddy ", not wanting to waste that free venison , got out and quickly threw that "dead" deer in the back seat and took off. If was not legal to do what they did so they were in a hurry. About ten miles down that straight stretch of road that doe came alive ! To  misquote Jerry Clower , they gave that deer the jeep! My buddy , a wildlife officer , came on that scene and said that every seat was shredded and everything that could be broken inside that jeep was. And then the deer left. So much for free venison.
   Years before , on a rare freezing day in North Florida , my cousin was deer hunting . In those days ( mid 70' ) Bruce drove a 1950 Chevy truck that was built like a tank. I know because I was riding in it during a deer chase on a winding , narrow dirt road that served as a boundary between our hunting lease and the next. Unknown to us as we pursued the deer and the dogs chasing it east , our northern neighbors were doing the same thing but going west. We met , rather abruptly , around a blind curve . My cousin and I in that black " battle tank " and him in that new . shiny , pretty , 4 x 4 Ford . Guess who won! We later drove off to catch our dogs , while he waited on his buddies to come tow his now shiny , but not so pretty , new truck off the junk yard. 
   Well , back on message . While hunting Bruce came upon a huge abandoned hornets nest. Biggest he had every seen. He had to have that nest. After considerable effort he got the nest down without damaging it. He carried the nest back to his truck and left it there and continued his hunt. After a few hours of damp , cold hunting , he deciding he had had all the fun he could stand and headed back to his truck. As he told me it was still just about freezing and he was chilled to the bone. No for you young guys , 1950 chevy trucks did not have a/c but they did have good heaters. About the time he got to the "hard road" , the truck was warming nicely. About ten minutes down the road , the " not so abandoned " nest came alive. Bruce said in just a minute that cab came alive with a big nest full of hornets. Now for those that have been in a 50 Chevy pick up you'll remember the cabs were quite small compared to today's trucks. Bruce said in a heartbeat those *pithed off hornets were all over him. All he could do was throw the truck out of gear , run off onto the grassed shoulder of the road , slow to about 40mph and bale out! As he was rolling he would catch glimpses of the tank barreling down the shoulder , heading to the woods. When he stopped he watched his truck plow through a barbed wire fence , take out a pulpwood pine , and stop when it hit the next one. As I recall it was an hour till he could reclaim his truck , throwing the nest out , to be recovered later. He was pulled out by a passing hunter and drove home. On a warmer day he came back and recovered that , now truly abandoned nest.

[WV Sawmiller]

   Brings back several memories - first was when we were kids and knocked down several big red and guinea wasp nests. We put them in an old brown grocery sack I guess to use the grubs for fishbait or such. I disremember exactly but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, several days later the sack came open and the wasps that had hatched in the interim attacked and we had to pull over and abandon the car and toss the sack out till we could clear out their siblings.

   I think I told this earlier but Grandpa was an early Game Warden down in Dixie Co. Fla and caught a man with an illegal deer. He gave the deer to the school as was the custom at the time. the next day at school they served venison stew to all. The hunter's son was in school and told Uncle Jr "We would not be eating this deer if it weren't for my dad." Uncle Jr immediately replied "You might be eating it but 'We' would not be eating it if it weren't for my dad." Both were correct.

[WV Sawmiller]

@ellmoe , further to your earlier comment about the guys throwing the "dead" doe in the back seat and it being illegal, several years back WV passed what has since been called the road kill law. We took a lot of flack from Jay Leno and the like on late night TV. The law basically allows drivers who hit an animal to call in and report the incident then they can take the animal home to salvage and use as they like. I really think it is a good law on several points:
1) No rational person is deliberately likely to run over a wild animal - the cost to repair their vehicle typically far exceeds any value of the animals meat, hide or horns.
2) Since the animal is already dead it only seems respectful to try to use any parts that can be used.
3) Removing the animal from the site reduces the cost to the county or road department because they don't have to do so.
4) Removing the carcass makes the area safer because predators and scavengers, including free ranging pets, are less likely to get killed or cause another accident by being on and around the road.

[ellmoe]

   I agree it can be a waste , but buzzards got to eat too!  More than once I made an "executive decision" to write a note allowing someone to take a road kill home. I started doing this after the charity home for girls began asking me to sneak the road kills in the back door so the girls didn't know what they were eating . The last straw was when they wanted me to butcher the deer before I brought the deer in. Sorry , but no. I believe young people need to be more connected to where their food comes from , not less. Additionally , I was "off the clock" picking up these deer for them , often several times a month. "Let them eat cake!"

[WV Sawmiller]

Ellmoe,

  My BIL in Alaska worked with a church group who would go pick up moose and such that got hit by cars and trains and such and they would butcher it and put it in some sort of food pantry they had for the needy. Of course with the cooler weather common to Alaska they likely had more time to work it up than you would in Florida. I understand that you don't have the time to butcher deer for other folks and I'd have felt that was unreasonable too. I have heard of zoos and such wanting road kill and that would be a good use. Maybe the same with any alligator farms such as may be found in Fla, Mississippi and LA.

   We had a Norwegian exchange student and she hunts with her dad and friends and such. Over there you or your club has to have access to a trained and certified tracking dog to be allowed to hunt. The DNR equivalent will lay a blood trail and you put the candidate dog on the track 24 hours later and he has to find the "animal" within some target time. She trained and got hers certified and the State would call her when an animal was injured by a vehicle and she would go track it down and she got paid or got to keep the meat. Over there legally killed game can be sold and we bought moose (Elk to a Noggie) in the local grocery store. It was about the same price as beef and I figured healthier for you if it came to that. They have a large native reindeer population in her area and I know she killed one and sold part of the meat to local markets. Evidently that is common in much of Europe.

  I agree buzzards have to eat to and so do the possums and coyotes and foxes and bears and such but they don't have to eat it on the road where I am driving. I think road kill is one of the big killers of hawks and eagles.

[Ron Scott]

It's Michigan's biggest killing cause of the Bald Eagle here. 

[samandothers]

Howard, I sure enjoy you stories.  This one as well as those about your family.  Thanks for the entertainment!  

[maple flats]

My story, and while not funny, it is true. For years I'd had problems with deer eating blueberry buds in my 4.5 acres of blueberries. Every year I'd get nuisance permits from the State department of environmental conservation (DEC). Nuisance permits I am issued each year are for Jan-the end of March and the last 2 years they gave my 1 week into April.After 3 or 4 years the agent came to inspect for deer damage and pointed to an open area between the 2 fields of blueberries. He said I should build a shooting house there.
AS it turns out, I had been thinking of putting one there, just had not "made the time" yet. Well, the following summer I did build the shooting house, at my sugarhouse. I built the platform 6 x 6 with clipped corners so it was 8 sided. 4 sides are about 4' wide and the clipped corners are just under 17" wide. The platform is on pressure treated 4"x4" legs with a PT 2x4 X brace sturdying them. I bought leg mounts made of steel that angled them a few degrees wider.. Once the platform and legs were built, I attached a brace made of double 2x6 across 2 adjacent legs and fastened another double 2x6 just under halfway across the platform under said platform. Since the platform was 10.5' high, that was how I could pick the whole thing up using my forks on my tractor. I then had my BIL follow me, while I carried it to the blueberries some .7 miles, along a county 2 lane road, then a 2 lane state highway. Then to a busy intersection with another state highway. Across that intersection, onto a city 2 lane and finally onto a dead end city (outside district) 2 lane that serves my blueberry fields. While I drove, maybe 4-5 MPH along the road I had to keep track of how close the legs were to thefrom the road, at max lift I only had maybe 6" clearance. When I got to the driveway into my fields I got to the hardest part. The driveway slopes down off the road at maybe 8-10 degrees and about half way down that 15' ramp there are heavy phone wires (as bundled, they are maybe 2" in a bundle, then wrapped with a loose fitting cover, my guess is to protect from the elements, mainly the sun). To get under that it took several minutes. I kept the legs just about an inch off the ground while my BIL used a Y pole we'd gotten ready before starting the journey lifted the wire bundle so I could get under. He had to lift 1 side, then the other, back and forth maybe 5-6 times.
WE finally got under them and carried the legged platform to it's resting spot. We set 4" solid concrete blocks where each leg was to rest and parked the platform. Then I removed the carry rigging from under the platform.
Over the next 6 weeks I built the framework, all 2x4's and I added a 2x4' landing which was part of the initial framing on the platform. Up to the platform I built a set of steps with a railing on 1 side. The shooting house is 7' high inside. I covered the sides with OSB. Each wide side has a 11" x 23" horizontal window, each clipped corner has the same size vertical window. The door side also has a horizontal window the same size. Once I got the sides all done I again enlisted my BIL and my nephew to help with the roof. It was a peaked roof, and I'd gotten steel roofing to do the job. the framing was done and I'd put OSB decking on, they were just helping on the steel. While we were doing the steel one evening my grandson Adam, then 21 stopped by to get something. I said, "you can help too if you want". Now Adam had worked with me since he was 7 in the blueberries, and once I started making maple syrup he was a big help with that. It surprised me but he said he couldn't because he had an appointment. He was as I said, 21 at the time and had never shown any interest in hunting. About 2 weeks later I learned he had gotten his hunter safety and that was what his appointment was.
That next hunting season I was proud to coach Adam on his first hunt. In the shooting house I had 2 comfortable chairs, one a steel lawn swivel chair and the second a better folding chair. Adam watched the north west window and I watched the opposite window. I saw one deer, but it was past the blueberries and in the next field, which was on the inside district, no hunting allowed there. My fields on the south end are right at the edge of the outside district. Shortly after that Adam said he sees a deer. While still looking toward the south, I say, can you get a good shot. he says, he thinks so. I did not see the deer, because I didn't want to turn and have the deer see thru Adam's open window and see my motion. I tell him, take a couple of deep breaths and then hold the scope on the spot right behind the front leg and squeeze slowly. I said do it so slow the shot surprizes him when it fires. A moment later BOOM, his 30-06 sends a pointed tip 165 gr Nossler Spitzer on it's way. I ask, did you hit it? He answers "I don't know, I saw a bunch of deer run when I shot, some ran into the woods behind where the deer was and some ran into the pines to the right". I said, we'll sit and wait for about 10 minutes, then go look. I now turn around and ask where the deer were. Adam says they had just walked from the woods behind where he shot. He said originally he only saw 5, with the shot he said they became 8 or 10.
The place where he said the deer he shot at was turned out to be about 175 yds away. I asked how did the shot feel and Adam said "good". After our 10-12 minute wait and no more deer,we took our guns and slowly proceeded to look. The deer had been at the far north west end of that field and the rows went north- south. I told him to walk very slowly down the outside row while I'd walk down 3 aisles to the east. Shortly after we started down the rows Adam said "the deer stood back up". I could not see it, and in a low voice asked if he had a good shot, he said yes and I said shoot it again. This time it fell with the shot. Those rows are 450' long, his last shot was about 425'. As we approached he had 2 deer, both perfect shots. He had 2 doe tags and we were real happy indeed, we actually wanted to cull does because they on average add 2 more each spring and in Jan-March deer eat enough blueberry buds to cost about $1000 in crop for each adult deer. I then went, got the tractor and loaded both into the FEL. He tagged them while I was getting the tractor. We carried them to the woods behind my sugarhouse and I taught him how to gut the deer.
Grandpa sure was proud of his Grandson.
Since the shooting house has been there a lot of deer have been taken, about half in season and half on nuisance permits. While I used to hunt quite a bit, since starting to make maple syrup I only rarely hunt. I've not yet shot any from the shooting house, all have been invited hunters.

[maple flats]

Another shorter story, about 2 years later. Adam asked if anyone was hunting the blueberries and I said he could. This time he was hunting alone and I was working at the sugarhouse. About 3:30 I finished for the day and went home. I took my boots off and settled into my recliner. Then Adam calls, saying he shot a little buck. I asked how big, he said he's waiting for me before he goes to look.
I put my boots back on drive down the 3 miles to the blueberries. Adam meets me at the road, and gets into the truck after confirming his gun is unloaded. I ask where it is, and he directs me to the spot. We look at the deer, I congratulate Adam and I turn the truck around and have Adam get onto the 7x7' aluminum flat bed. We hook a strap to the 2 front legs and Adam pulls as I lift the rear end. Once on the bed of the truck I say, "Do you realize that is a huge deer?" as I looked at the width of the rump. He didn't realize it. This was a 7 pointer, which is not very common where we hunt. We gutted the deer and then hauled it to a meat cutter because the weather was too warm for us to cut it. When we dropped the deer off there were likely 25 or more deer awaiting cutting the 2 meat cutters there. Some had 10 and even a 12 point rack. The meat cutter called 2 days later that his deer was ready. Now, anytime I've taken my deer to get cut up, the biggest ones come back in 2 boxes, smaller ones (like our common 120-130# deer) come back in 1 box. This one rode home in 3 heavy boxes. I just wish we'd asked him to weigh it before cutting.
Later, after the season ended my BIL was at a fire dept meeting, both he and the meat cutter were members of the volunteer fire dept in that town. The meat cuttr told my BIL that Adam's deer had been the biggest bodied deer he cut all season (and that meat cuttr does 400-450 each year.)
Needless to say Grandpa was proud of Adam again.
As I write this story I'm getting ready to go see Adam for the first time since last Christmas. Adam is in the Navy, went thru Navy Seal training then on to EOD (explosive ordnance disposal) While he did not become a seal (he completed the training but somehow the Navy leaders in that training said they could only take 52 of the successful trainees, Adam's class had 57 remaining. The elimination was a sprint. Now, understand that they had just completed HELL WEEK. In none of their training had a sprint been any part of their training. They all had absolutely majorly abused feet and were completely exhausted. Well Adam beat out 4, he came in fifth from the end, he was out. His next move was to find out what he'd do. He still had the rest of his 6 yr hitch to serve.
He had 2 buddies from training who tapped at some point in HELL WEEK and were thus out. They got called to be in EOD and both accepted because an EOD man or 2 works with each seal mission. Once thos 2 buddies heard Adam was out, they told their officer that Adam would be great for EOD. They were asked which would give their spot to Adam, and with hesitation both eventually raised their hand, they would give up their spot. As it turned out neither lost their spot and the 3 proceeded to start the extensive EOD training. (this is not what I'd have chosen for Adam, but I still supported him).
Anyways, Adam got in last night for 9 days. He has 3 weeks but must self quarantine on his time the rest of the time before he returns to active duty once back in San Diego.
My wife and I will see Adam shortly after lunch, while maintaining proper social distancing with Covid 19 surging locally. While necessary that will be hard to do.

[WV Sawmiller]

@maple flats ,

  Great stories and obviously great memories. I know you are proud of your grandson and hope you guys get to hunt many more times in the blueberry house.

   It sounds like your state lets you use the meat with damage permits. I understand some do not. My son had a friend with a big farm and the got damage permits and could even shoot up until 10:00 pm at night. I was working overseas and they would schedule with my wife the time and size deer she wanted.

  I must admit I was a little concerned about this statement as I am not exactly sure what you may be implying and hope you are not challenging the veracity of what I have faithfully reported to the best of my recollection "My story, and while not funny, it is true."

[gspren]

Since there are some Patrick McManus fans here do you recall when Al Hirscfeld was doing the drawing that accompanied the McManus story and he always hid his daughters name (NINA) in the drawing, sometimes multiple times. My wife always grabbed the magazine to look for nina before I could read it.

[Old Greenhorn]

I never knew that. Wish I still had my old copies now.

[maple flats]

@maple flats ,

  Great stories and obviously great memories. I know you are proud of your grandson and hope you guys get to hunt many more times in the blueberry house.

   It sounds like your state lets you use the meat with damage permits. I understand some do not. My son had a friend with a big farm and the got damage permits and could even shoot up until 10:00 pm at night. I was working overseas and they would schedule with my wife the time and size deer she wanted.

  I must admit I was a little concerned about this statement as I am not exactly sure what you may be implying and hope you are not challenging the veracity of what I have faithfully reported to the best of my recollection "My story, and while not funny, it is true."
Yes here the State requires us to use the meat. We can consume it our selves, give it to a family in need or donate it to a feed the hungry program.
I was not trying to imply your story was not 100% factual, just that mine is!

[WV Sawmiller]

   Oh yeah! That's like saying "I'm not saying you are lying but I am telling the truth." Isn't that the same thing.

    Besides, a little straying for the complete truth when talking about hunting or fishing is not really lying is it? That is just a minor embellishment of the facts and should be expected. 

[maple flats]

It's just that I was taught to be 100% factual, even with hunting stories.

[maple flats]

Another story, this time I was hunting with my dad and brother. We had a piece of land we were allowed to hunt by the farmer who owned it. He was not a hunter.
This land had a creek thru the middle and at 1 spot there was an old bridge on a seasonal road. The bridge and road had been closed in the mid 50's or 60's when Interstate 90 was put thru.
Along one side of the creek was a long, fairly narrow corn field, then the roadway along side the field went thru a hedge row and there was a larger corn field. The first field went essentially north/south. Along the west side of that cornfield was a long boggy brush filled area, too wet to plant. It was between 200-300' wide, and varied in width as it went northward.
On the day I'm describing, I said I'd walk the brushy portion after my dad and brother had time to get into position. They were going to walk along the creek (a farm road followed the creek). After going thru the hedge row my dad was going to take watch in the hedgerow, my brother was going into the woods to the west side of the second cornfield.
After about 30 minutes I started my "silent drive" About 10 minutes later I heard 2 shots that sounded like they came from the east side of the creek and were fairly far away. With those shots I stood still for maybe 10 minutes to see if anything was going to come thru. Then I resumed my drive. About 2 minutes later I heard a loud shot and it sounded like it would have likely been my dad who shot. Again, I stayed motionless for 6-8 minutes, nothing came. I then resumed my drive again. At the end of the drive, as I was even with that second field, I turned toward the field. Shortly, I came upon a drainage ditch, about 4' wide and 2-3' deep, full of water, oh, and a dead 8 pointer. I left it there temporarily and proceeded to where my dad was, about 75 yds from the ditch. I asked if he'd seen anything and he said a while after the earlier 2 rapid shots a nice buck ran across in front of him and dad shot, but he missed it. I asked where that deer had run and he pointed to the trail I'd exited the brushy area on. I then told him to come see the deer he had "missed".
In the brushy area we came to that drainage and I asked dad if that was the deer. He said yes it was. We dragged the deer out, gutted it once on the edge of the field. By then my brother was there to help. Since dad was 81 or 82, my brother and I dragged. This was on Thanksgiving morning in '93 or '94.
The following Saturday we again hunted the same area. Again, dad went to the hedge row but then went into the brushy area, past that drainage and took watch up against a large clump of mature willows, my brother this time went east and stood watch near the creek. Near a wider but more shallow spot (maybe 30' wide but only 1' deep there) where he saw an established deer trail exiting the creek.
Once they had time to get into position, I again started a silent drive (my most successful type). About 20 minutes into the drive, Kaboom! It sounded close. I dropped to 1 knee and waited to see if anything would come my way. After a long wait, I got up and resumed my drive. When I got to dad I again asked if he'd seen anything and he said he'd shot but missed one to the west of where he was, it had come from where I'd just run the drive.  My brother arrived where we were a few minutes later. We talked, and then my brother and I went to track the buck dad thought he'd missed. Along the outer, west edge of that woods, we found dad's "missed" buck.
Over the years my brother and I then wondered how many deer dad had shot over the years but didn't realize he should track them? We will never know the answer to that, but if we had not been hunting with dad those 2 days, just 2 days apart, 2 bucks, each 8 point would have either been claimed by another hunter or more likely would have feed the coyotes and other critters. At that point, as I said earlier, dad was 81 or 82. Over the years he's only "gotten" 1 doe and no bucks in his life (that year we were allowed 2 bucks, one on the regular license and the second on an either or doe tag, good for buck or doe.
Because of those two 8 pointers, the first one a really nice, heavy bodied 8 in his prime, and the second an 8 point well past prime (as we tried to roll him over one antler came off, and that was just 2 days after Thanksgiving). Dad started hunting before hunter safety was first given, so he just bought a license and went hunting, no training. His dad never hunted. It concerns me how many dad likely killed but never brought home because the deer did not fall in his sight. Both of those deer he got were perfect shots , both double lung. 1 went about 75 yds, the second went about 100 yds. Dad never hunted alone again at our insistence, and unfortunately he never fired another shot. He quit hunting all together at age 87, and died at 91, in 2003. God rest his soul!

[WV Sawmiller]

Maple,

 Sounds like some great memories with your dad. We never did much of the silent drives but it makes sense. I grew up hunting in the deep south and dogs were used. I can honestly say I never remember killing a deer the dogs were chasing. I have missed a few including emptying a 30-30 in an open field on a yearling hitting the ground about every 20 feet. I have killed deer on dog hunts but always assumed it was because the movement in the area had them moving and trying to sneak past the other hunters and such.

 I know your dad was proud of his deer and glad you guys found them for him. It is amazing how far a well hit deer can sometimes run. It is depressing to think of someone not making a huge effort to track them. In Norway you have to have or have access to a trained, certified tracking dog to hunt up injured animals before the state will grant you a license. You also have to fire at least 30 rounds in practice then hit a 5" target 5 times in a row at 100 meters before you can hunt. The Game warden observes and certifies and puts your rifle number on your license. We have a former exchange student over there who got her N. Elkhound certified and the state will sometimes call her to track an injured animal hit by a car or such.

 I shot a doe 2 months ago I first thought I had missed till I went and checked to be sure and found a big pool of blood spray where she'd been standing and a clear blood trail 40-50 yards before I found her. The small buck I shot yesterday first trotted off like I had missed then stumbled, ran in a half circle and collapsed. I was using a 230 grain .44 jacketed pistol ball in a sabot in my 50 caliber muzzleloader and got both lungs and had a 2" or bigger hole out the back side resulting a very clan kill.

It's just that I was taught to be 100% factual, even with hunting stories.

 That's downright depressing! You don't sound like you grew up in the rural areas of the deep South. Tall tales and embellishment was considered a valued skill and old timers went to great lengths to try to outdo each other. I understand the old Mountain Men did much the same. My grandkids can almost repeat my "Best Shot" tale below verbatim.

Hunting trip – The best shot I ever made When I was 7-8 years I got up one morning and Momma came from the smokehouse and told me we were out of meat so she wanted me to go shoot some fresh meat. I took down our old single shot musket George Washington had given my grandpa back during the war for independence. I walked down to the river which was so small you could step across it in most places and the moon was no bigger than a dime back then. I walked down the river to a good spot and sat down right on the river bank leaning back against a big old gum tree. It was pretty quiet and I fell asleep till a big old flock of blackbirds lit in the tree over me and woke me up. I looked up and there was a big 8 point buck feeding 20-30 yards in front of me with 2 big old turkey gobblers behind him. I heard a splash and looked back and saw a big old swamp rabbit swimming the river headed my way. Beside my right leg I saw a big old rattlesnake raised up ready to strike. I decided I better do something quick so I raised that old musket and let her rip. The bullet hit that deer right in the head and killed him graveyard dead. The bullet hit his horns and split in half and each piece hit one of those gobblers and killed both of them. The barrel of that old musket swung around and hit that rattlesnake in his open mouth and killed him. The noise was so loud 25 of those blackbirds had a heart attack and fell down dead all around me and I collected them and Momma made a pie out of them. The recoil of that old musket knocked me in the river and I fell on that swamp rabbit and drowned him and brought him back with me. To top it off when I waded out of that river I had on a pair of those old hip waders and they were full of a mess of bluegills.

Fishing – Strangest thing I ever saw fishing – When I was stationed at Albany GA I went fishing down on the banks of the Flint River one morning. It was a nice quiet day without much going on till I saw a 6 ft long log come floating by with a hickory nut on top of the log. The log drifted under a low hanging live oak limb and a big old red fox squirrel jumped out of the tree on to the log and started eating that hickory nut. Suddenly the biggest bass I ever saw jumped out of the river and swallowed that squirrel whole. I sat there amazed thinking that was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen then suddenly I realized it was not. The most amazing thing I ever saw while fishing was when I saw that bass put another hickory nut on that log and I saw him pushing it back upstream to try and get another squirrel.

             During the Spring Break of 1989 I met my dad down at Old Town for what turned out to be his last fishing trip. My son Sean was 10 years old at the time. Dad took him out in Old Town Hammock and I cut some swamp cabbage while they supervised and criticized all my work. Dad showed Sean how to tie an cabbage heart to a cabbage fan and drag it out of the woods. We had put out catfish hooks and were catching lots of big catfish. We’d check the lines at daylight then throw the catfish in a #2 washtub full of water in the back of Dad’s truck and we’d go eat breakfast and a little café about half a mile in front of John O’s gas station. We’d be in there eating and a bunch of misplaced Yankees would walk past the truck and hear and see those big catfish splashing in the tub and they’d come in and asked “Who caught all those big catfish out there”. Dad would never crack a smile or let on and he’d just point at Sean and say “That boy there caught the in the ditch down by the road with a cane pole using grasshoppers for bait.” Now you know Yankees are gullible and they believed him. By the end of the week Sean was adding to the tale saying “Yeah, I’d have caught more but that was all I could drag home.” We’d get done eating and those Yankees would be chasing grasshoppers all along the right of way and fishing in all the old muddy ditches by the road.