Forest and Stream ■ 
SHOTGUN afield! 
THE 
SPORTSMEN ARE ALREADY ANTICIPATING THE 
“RED LETTER” SHOOTING DAYS TO COME 
By HENRY ELLIOT 
In Writing to Advertisers mention Forest and Stream. It tvill identify you. 
N the sultry days of 
mid-summer there is 
nothing that will re- 
vive that calm confi- 
dence we all have in 
the belief that better 
days are coming, than 
the recollection of the 
trips we have made 
afield with dog and 
gun in autumn days. 
The first day of a 
small - game trip I 
made last fall was true to all of the 
hunting traditions that have been handed 
down since the time of Esau. It rained. 
Of course it did. It nearly always does 
and the only thing to hope for is that 
the next time it won’t rain quite so hard. 
However, the usual rain which goes 
along with the first crop of stone bruises 
and briar scratches was more or less 
forgotten as we heard the howling of a 
couple of hounds just before it was light 
enough to shoot. A hurried drive to a 
favorite rabbit hollow; our old dog 
turned loose; the hunt was on. Just at 
that moment some other hunting party 
came down over a hill and joined the 
fun. 
A rabbit jumped across a little run 
and into the safety of the briars before 
a load of 6’s struck the pebbles, but it 
immediately came out almost at the 
writer’s feet and ran into another load 
of shot, and incidentally into the open 
mouth of one of the hounds. 
This dog had his own ideas of rabbit 
ownership and promptly grabbed the rab- 
bit and legged it up over the hill, fol- 
lowed by a short and badly-winded in- 
dividual who, judging by the cheers and 
whistles coming from the rear, was 
gaining ground. Eventually I caught 
the dog and got the rabbit before it was 
eaten, but the race was close and fur- 
nished quite a little amusement to every- 
one excepting the dog. 
Another rabbit was soon jumped from 
this hill but he got up far enough ahead 
of us and made his escape while the go- 
ing was good. 
The next incident worth while was the 
flushing of a small covey of quail in a 
wheat stubble field a mile or so farther 
on, and although a bird was gathered in 
on a snap-shot, the farmer had peculiar 
views about quail shooting and conse- 
quently we moved on. At that time the 
dog was chasing a rabbit and therefore 
needed considerable encouragement be- 
fore he could be induced to follow. 
Nothing more happened for a while 
except the working out of a few old 
rabbit trails, until a woodcock, which is 
a rare bird in those parts, was killed, on 
the second rise, as a companion flushed 
it and it flew past my head. 
A big swamp and open, brushy, creek- 
bottom seemed to be bare of game or 
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else had been hunted over before we got 
there. Consequently we found little 
game, but at last a large woods-rabbit 
jumped out of a pile of leaves and was 
killed by one of those apparently impos- 
sible back-over-your-shoulder snap-shots 
that make up for a dozen easy misses. 
One shot like that is enough to make any 
rainy day a red-letter day, if you hunt 
as I do, altogether for the fun of the 
shooting. 
This incident put new life into a tired 
dog and before long he had another one 
going in a briar thicket, and it wasn’t 
long before number three was gathered 
in on an easy straight-away shot. 
A move to another locality soon pro- 
duced one of those curious and 
laughable scenes that might well be en- 
titled “How a good dog goes wrong.” 
The hound began to sniff around a tree- 
root and finally wedged his head into a 
hole and barked and clawed around un- 
til a rabbit quietly slipped out from the 
other side of the root and sped down 
the creek bank from which the 6’s roiled 
it into the water. Even the shooting 
failed to rouse the dog who refused to 
believe that most dwelling places are 
provided with a back door. A good 
wooling with the water-soaked rabbit 
seemed only to wound his feelings, which 
were already considerably ruffled, until 
I jumped a cottontail and knocked it 
over as it ran int6 a pine thicket. How- 
ever, it got up again and I arrived in 
time to see it scramble over the top of a 
very steep bank. 
Soon the ow-ow-owie of the dog was 
{Continued on page 362) 
Ready for quail or rabbit 
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