Join the Hunt
Hunting Rabbit
It's a Saturday morning in early December, and a light dusting of snow covers the ground. With a shotgun tucked under your arm, you and your friend walk slowly across a pasture.
You'd asked the woman who owns this land if you could hunt for rabbits. You were a bit nervous asking. But she was nice. "Check out the Old Place,"she said. "I always see rabbits there."
As you reach the abandoned farmhouse, you can see why rabbits live there. Grass and vines have grown up over the collapsed porch. Out back sits an old, rusted car with weeds sticking up through the hood and broken windshield. A big pile of brush stands by an old barn.
You've learned from other hunts that rabbits hide in the thickest, most tangled brush they can find. They must like this place. Fresh rabbit tracks in the snow show they have been moving about earlier.
You walk up to the brush pile and give it a kick. Nothing. Your friend tries. Nothing. As you turn away, you catch a movement out of the corner of your eye. You spin around to see a rabbit dashing from the brush. Checking to see that your friend is safely behind you, you click off the safety. The rabbit runs 20 yards and stops near the old car. You raise your shotgun but then lower it. The pellets might ricochet off the metal.
The rabbit hops a few feet past the car. Your friend whispers, "Shoot." You raise the gun, steady the bead on the rabbit, and fire. The rabbit somersaults then lies still. You pick it up and put it in the back pocket of your hunting vest.
Later that morning your friend shoots a rabbit, and you shoot another. You stop by to thank the woman for letting you hunt there, then head home to ask Mom or Dad to help you clean and fry the rabbits for dinner.
What does fried rabbit taste like? Like fried chicken but much better because you got it yourself.
Hunting Deer
You're cold. Colder than you have ever been in your life. Almost two hours ago you walked through the dark woods and climbed up into this tree stand. You imagine your friends back home, just now waking up in their warm beds.
But you have to stick it out if you want to shoot a deer this year. Besides, you still have some hot chocolate in your thermos. Maybe its time for another cup.
What was that? Something walking slowly, crunching crisp leaves. Carefully, you look over your left shoulder. Your eyes search the trees and bushes for movement. But everything is still.
Then you see it. The flick of an ear. Its a whitetail buck! Your heart starts beating so hard and fast you're afraid the deer can hear it. He continues on the trail, stopping every few yards to look around. Slowly you raise the rifle your uncle lent you. The crosshairs in the scope shake as you try to settle them on the spot he told you to aim for. You aim a few inches back from where the deer's front leg meets its body.
As you take a deep breath and slowly let it out, the shaking slows down. After double-checking through the scope to make sure no house or person is behind your target, you click off the safety and slowly squeeze the trigger.
The deer leaps once, runs a few yards, and then collapses, dead. Then you hear a yell. Your uncle Bill and aunt Judy heard the shot from their deer stand. Now they are coming to help you field dress the deer and take it back to the cabin. Your legs are still shaking as you empty your gun and carefully climb down from the stand. Judy gives you a hug, and Bill shakes your hand. "Nice shooting," he says with a big grin. They know just how you feel.
Hunting Pheasant
Your dog is excited. With her tail up and nose to the ground, she weaves through the tall grass next to a cornfield. You take a few quick steps to keep up. You hold your shotgun ready, but the safety is on, and you take quick note of your friends. You must know where they are - where you can shoot safely and where you must not shoot no matter what.
Suddenly a ring-necked pheasant bursts into the air, just a few feet ahead of your dog. Its wingbeats sound like explosions and your heart races. Is it a rooster or a hen? Yes, there's the red face, rich brown chest and long tail. Its a rooster - legal game. And its flying in a direction where you can safely shoot. You raise your gun, slide off the safety, swing the sights ahead of the bird, and squeeze the trigger. The recoil from the shot rocks your shoulder, and the pheasant folds, in the way a creature does when life leaves quickly. It sails into the deep grass.
You follow your dog to where you last saw the bird. She disappears into the tall grass. Seconds later, she reappears with the pheasant in her mouth and brings it over. You hold the soft, warm bird several minutes, turn it over, and admire the splash of sunlight in every feather. You drop the pheasant into the pouch of your vest. Then you and your dog begin searching the field once again.
Do the Right Thing
Aldo Leopold, a famous hunter and environmentalist, said, "A peculiar virtue in wildlife ethics is that the hunter ordinarily has no gallery to applaud or disapprove of his conduct. Whatever his acts, they are dictated by his own conscience, rather than by a mob of onlookers."