By Duane Fronek
It was a fairly nice February day, temps in the 20’s. I had a buddy up for hunting coyotes. We made plans to go up into some back country that requires a 4 wheeler or snow mobile and snow shoes, a 6 mile trip from the main road. It was a river that snaked its way through some of the prettiest country around here. Going through tag alder marshes, tamarack swamps and popple slashes. The plan was to hit spots along this corridor for the day. It was a full moon cycle and we wanted to be out there when it rises.
The moon was due to rise around 3:30 pm. In the past it seems moonrise was a very productive time and we wanted to capitalize on it.
Our stands for the most part for the day only raised a few ravens and for some reason the chickadee’s , it seems their attracted to bunny screams, for they would flit around us and even had one land on my shoulder. We were fast approaching the magic of the moonrise and it was time to set up at our jewel of a spot we’ve been saving for this particular event.
Thee spot was a fork in a river, with one leg coming from the west and the other from the north, conjoining together to flow south. To the north the river rambled through heavy tag alders, and to the west it rolled in through tamaracks. My partner whom we’ll call “yotefever” as he calls himself for reason’s similar to buck fever. But make no mistake, he is a deadly assassin when you put that coyote out there beyond sniping range and with a center fire pistol to boot. On this particular day yotefever was packin’ a 6.5-.284 that bench pressed a 100gr ballistic tip out of a lever action single shot pistol that loaded through the breech, topped off with his leupy. He was cocked, locked and ready to rock as I toting my trusty 700 that lived off the .243.
We took our seats, with yotefever nestled up against a hummock facing north and me in the rear 20 yds back up against a stump facing west. With the sun hanging low to the south west and its night shift counterpart due to arrive shortly in the east we were ready to put that poor bunny to the test. I proceeded to scream through my red desert mouthpiece driving those talons deep into that poor bunnies back, it was a horrendous death, his screams so high they could cut through the ice that topped the river. Within moments a dark figure was spotted slinking across the ice from the tags to the north about 600yds out, a half a second later another unsavory character followed suit, then another. A bonifide triple was forming a hit squad on the paw. As they made there way in at a semi trot, I whispered to yotefever, “dogs at 12 o’clock“, he gave me the thumbs up as I gave a short waaaah on the red desert to keep their interest. And interested they were. Closing the gap single file galloping down the white carpet heading to yotefevers lap. When the lead hitman closed in on the 100yd mark he slowed his pace allowing his subordinates to take the lead. I could tell that dog was starting to get nervous, his posture was getting more hesitant. In all the excitement, it was just now becoming clear he was running into an ambush, he was facing right into the sun and the wind was blowing up his backside, he knew bad news was about to break, but the thought of that crimson colored meat had him hesitantly hooked. At that moment it dawned on me as well my mistake was about to magnify itself, as is the case when your too blind to see it in the first place. I had placed yotefever , not realizing it, right in the line of an incoming possibility, for he was between myself and the murderous trio.
I was waiting for yotefever to give the bark of death as the deadly trio was pushing the 40 yd. mark. And just like many hunts before, the scene was about to go down . The bark of death rolled off of yotefevers tongue, in an instant the trio locked the brakes, with the two lead dogs facing each other posed to bolt as the rear dog stood sentinel another 40 or so yards back ready to witness the show. A semi- second later the roar of yotefevers pistol caused the two lead dogs to bolt, only to collide with each other causing their descent to the ice, As in slow motion I pull myself out of hiding in the crouched position moving in to yotefevers right so to get a shot at the departing witness, as I come to yotefevers side I proceed to lock the cross hairs on the bolting dog who was now a couple hundred yards out , I send a 100 grainer in his direction but fails to slow him down. As I’m rackin’ the bolt for another round, thinking atleast 1 dog is dead on the ice and not knowing where the other went, two well furred critters jump from their iced slabs and getting traction peeled out, one heading straight away to catch up with the departed witness as the other heads to the hard right to the east. Now being surprised, rattled and mind going into frazzle mode, I send another round at the 2nd fleeing ball of fur. As I’m rackin the bolt for a 3rd round I glance down at yotefever trying to get another round in his, I swing around to the east bound dog who’s now truckin as if he’s floating across the ice at mach speed, I lead too much and blew snow up in front and just beyond his direction of travel. As I’m rackin the bolt for the 4rd round, the intended target hit’s the woods edge and stops for one glance back. I find him in the cross hairs of the Monarch and smile as I squeezed the trigger. The hammer drops striking air looking for the primer that wasn’t there, the coyote takes the cue and disappears leaving behind a scene of despair.
I look up into the eastern sky and there he is, the man on the moon peeking over the trees.
After regaining our composure, we assessed the situation and checked out the spots where the shots were to connect. Yotefevers spot in the front row showed no blood, but long guard hair that graced the top of the first coyotes withers and no blood to be found, just a maze of scrambled tracks of 2 confused and temporarily scared witless coyotes. The hung up dogs postion, showed nothing but snow and ice fluffed up from the .243 and which brings me to the last shot I realized I only loaded 3 rounds in the magazine After carefully investigating the scene and much head scratching, it was determined that Yotefever hit us both that afternoon.
Showing posts with label coyote hunting predator hunting calling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coyote hunting predator hunting calling. Show all posts
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Things that go Click in the Night and other Fails
By Duane Fronek
Ever have those days that everything just feels so right for a hunt. The wind is perfect, your inner spirit that connects with the outdoor world feels completely engulfed with each other intertwined in harmony. Nothing can go wrong, you set up on stand and throw screams into the airwaves that carry into the realm of the coyotes world. And like a midnight dream the coyote appears as a ghost completely entranced to the song your singing, trotting in like a pure breed racehorse clueless to the impending doom. He stops and takes a seat, swiping the air with his nose looking for the encore. It’s perfect, 140 yds out, the canvas is white, the moon is full, the subject is still as a rock. Then it happens, the click on an empty chamber, the pin drop , the scratch in the record when the music stops, -10 below and the echo across the land sends your failure out there for all to hear, while the subject heads for cover. Murphy’s Law has arrived. Being so pumped to get out on the stand I forgot to rack a round in the chamber, no matter how hard I pleaded with wiley who was lurking in the shadows of the pines he would only talk trash. For 45 min. we sassed each other but to no avail, ol’ Murphy made his mark.
It’s happened to all of us and seems that no matter how hard you try and double check, triple check to make sure all your ducks are in a row, sooner or later Murphy’s law shows up. Why? I don’t know, could be your so entranced or excited to get to the stand or constant repetition that your mind already check listed before your body acted, or just one of those things you can’t control, the unexpected. Either way in both scenarios there seems to be nothing you can do once the deed is done, but sit in awestruck complicated emotion muttering to yourself.
As I did, one morning perched upon a ridge overlooking a river I’ve called and sent many a coyote to never never land. A pair of coyotes trotting in with bad deeds on their mind that was being fed with blood curdling bunny cries. It was perfect harmony, falling together as planned. Dropping the cross hairs on the lead dog, the .243 following it in like a well trained bloodhound. Touching the trigger to light the fire, the dog hit the ice as if you cut the strings on a puppet. Delighted I raise up to take a bead on the fleeing accomplice only to find much yardage had past and brush had grown in the seconds after the homicide.
Then it happens, I realize Murphy’s law had paid me a visit as the corner of my eye catches a glimpse of the deceased scooting to cover. I felt the blood rush from my brain to my stomach. I MISSED????!!! HOW COULD THAT BE???? THAT DOG WAS DOWN!!!
After regaining my composure atleast what could be regained. I went to the spot the dog had fallen. The story in the snow told of my failure. The ice was slick as grease under the snow, and I could see where the coyote attempted to turn in an instant but the feet failed to grab and went out from under her, the bullet at that moment had hit the ice inches behind her last track, which in turn triggered her turning response. Her chin hit the ice as she went down knocking her out. My failure wasn’t realized until it was too late. I did not stop the dog before I shot, which in this case was crucial as she was coming straight on while looking down on her and not leading. I got caught up, too confident in the moment forgetting one crucial piece of the game plan, the “BARK” that stops them for the shot. With my head hung low I headed back to the truck empty handed, taking this lesson in to the fullest and muttering to Murphy.
Where Murphy paid a visit.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
My First Coyote
My First Coyote
By Duane Fronek
Back when I first got into this insane game of predator calling. I knew absolutely nothing about it. I’ve been trapping a number of years before and always heard about calling and seeing ads in hunting and trapping magazines advertising predator calls. At the time, before I got an interest in it, I thought it was some kind of gimmick. You know one of those things that this product will stack up the critters for you like cord wood. To say the least I was skeptical. I read an article where a trapper had used a predator call at sets before dark to help increase his catch by calling, then leaving and having a coyote or fox in his set come morning. So I thought to myself, you know I might just try that. I went to the local sporting goods store looking for a mouth call. I found an Olt closed reed predator call. When I got it home I read the directions on how to blow it. Well when I did, I thought to myself what animal would come to something so loud that sounded like a New Years Eve party horn. I had to laugh and thought, yeah right!. After all I was taught all my life while hunting that being quiet and still was paramount in being successful on a hunt.
But I thought to myself, it won’t hurt to try it at a fox set then leave and see what happens. That evening I took my call and went to where I had a fox set. It was just before dark. I sat down with no rifle(shows how much faith I had in this gig) and started calling. After the 10 min. mark or so I got up and left, went home and thought about it, is this gonna work or did I just scare every critter out of the country. Well the next morning came and time to check traps, the first set I checked of course was the one I called on. And low and behold there’s a beautiful red fox jumping around with a bracelet on. I was shocked and perplexed. Did the call help bring this fox in? Or was it a coincidence? At either rate it had my mind churning, thinking, devising and basically cluttered with all kinds of thoughts and ideas.
I decided to take this calling thing a little further. I started reading articles on calling, mostly Fur-Fish and Game, and the Trapper and Predator Caller, articles by Gerry Blair, Judd Cooney and others in the field taught me through their words in their articles. I took this knowledge and applied it to my new quest, to call in a fox or coyote to the gun. At the time I only had a 22mag. for this game, my 8mm deer rifle was too much for these critters if I wanted to save the hide they will so graciously donate. Well it wasn’t that easy. As hard as I tried, screaming in vain through that call I just couldn’t get any critter or any critter I was hunting for to come in. I had plenty of crows, ravens and hawks and eagles respond, but no four footed furry critters, well except for deer that seemed to take an interest in my doings, sometimes with an audience of 5-8 deer watching me, until I stood up and moved from the shadows when I was done. I figure I must be getting close to doing something right and sooner or later I’d connect. Well it turned out to be later, as a matter a fact a year later. It took me till the next winter to call in my first coyote.
The day I called in my first coyote still stands out in my mind and how it played out. It was around 8am, we just had a front blow through leaving behind 5 inches of snow, it was just ending as I got to my stand and the wind was surprisingly still. I took my seat upon a ridge over looking the frozen Wolf River, it was mid-January. I pulled out a new call I had recently purchased, a Johnny Stewart closed reed rabbit distress. I started to blow on the call producing the most heinous screams I could muster. I’d blow intermittently 8-10 seconds, pause repeat. After about 2 minutes into the set-up their they were, like ghosts appearing out of nowhere, 500 yds or so upstream. They had came from the woods on the opposite side. I continued to call, while the two blood thirsty carnivores came running down the river with murder in their eyes. I never seen an animal come running so fast with so much enthusiasm and so eager to die, it reminded of little kids chasing after the ice cream truck not watching for cars. They were on a mission, as they were coming one would nip at the other trying to trip the other one up so he could get there first. When they hit about the 300 yd mark, I didn’t know what to do, so I stopped calling, but they didn’t stop coming. When they hit a little island of basically tag alders, they just pushed right though. However upon emerging from the tags one coyote bit at the other coyotes front leg, tripping him up and rolling him in the snow as he continued to the distressful bunny that must be up ahead. Although briefly knocked off course the second coyote wasted no time getting back in the race. Little did he know that seconds later that little stunt would prove to have saved his hide for another day. For just as he was coming up from behind, a silent assassin sitting above already had his not so friendly comrade in the cross hairs, a second later a 40gr HP from the 22mag found bone beneath the mane covering her shoulder blades as her nose was sniffing in the fluffy snow. In an instant he swapped his tail for his head and was gone, leaving his accomplice splayed out on the fresh fluffy snow. That was 20 years ago and I still remember it as if it were yesterday.
By Duane Fronek
Back when I first got into this insane game of predator calling. I knew absolutely nothing about it. I’ve been trapping a number of years before and always heard about calling and seeing ads in hunting and trapping magazines advertising predator calls. At the time, before I got an interest in it, I thought it was some kind of gimmick. You know one of those things that this product will stack up the critters for you like cord wood. To say the least I was skeptical. I read an article where a trapper had used a predator call at sets before dark to help increase his catch by calling, then leaving and having a coyote or fox in his set come morning. So I thought to myself, you know I might just try that. I went to the local sporting goods store looking for a mouth call. I found an Olt closed reed predator call. When I got it home I read the directions on how to blow it. Well when I did, I thought to myself what animal would come to something so loud that sounded like a New Years Eve party horn. I had to laugh and thought, yeah right!. After all I was taught all my life while hunting that being quiet and still was paramount in being successful on a hunt.
But I thought to myself, it won’t hurt to try it at a fox set then leave and see what happens. That evening I took my call and went to where I had a fox set. It was just before dark. I sat down with no rifle(shows how much faith I had in this gig) and started calling. After the 10 min. mark or so I got up and left, went home and thought about it, is this gonna work or did I just scare every critter out of the country. Well the next morning came and time to check traps, the first set I checked of course was the one I called on. And low and behold there’s a beautiful red fox jumping around with a bracelet on. I was shocked and perplexed. Did the call help bring this fox in? Or was it a coincidence? At either rate it had my mind churning, thinking, devising and basically cluttered with all kinds of thoughts and ideas.
I decided to take this calling thing a little further. I started reading articles on calling, mostly Fur-Fish and Game, and the Trapper and Predator Caller, articles by Gerry Blair, Judd Cooney and others in the field taught me through their words in their articles. I took this knowledge and applied it to my new quest, to call in a fox or coyote to the gun. At the time I only had a 22mag. for this game, my 8mm deer rifle was too much for these critters if I wanted to save the hide they will so graciously donate. Well it wasn’t that easy. As hard as I tried, screaming in vain through that call I just couldn’t get any critter or any critter I was hunting for to come in. I had plenty of crows, ravens and hawks and eagles respond, but no four footed furry critters, well except for deer that seemed to take an interest in my doings, sometimes with an audience of 5-8 deer watching me, until I stood up and moved from the shadows when I was done. I figure I must be getting close to doing something right and sooner or later I’d connect. Well it turned out to be later, as a matter a fact a year later. It took me till the next winter to call in my first coyote.
The day I called in my first coyote still stands out in my mind and how it played out. It was around 8am, we just had a front blow through leaving behind 5 inches of snow, it was just ending as I got to my stand and the wind was surprisingly still. I took my seat upon a ridge over looking the frozen Wolf River, it was mid-January. I pulled out a new call I had recently purchased, a Johnny Stewart closed reed rabbit distress. I started to blow on the call producing the most heinous screams I could muster. I’d blow intermittently 8-10 seconds, pause repeat. After about 2 minutes into the set-up their they were, like ghosts appearing out of nowhere, 500 yds or so upstream. They had came from the woods on the opposite side. I continued to call, while the two blood thirsty carnivores came running down the river with murder in their eyes. I never seen an animal come running so fast with so much enthusiasm and so eager to die, it reminded of little kids chasing after the ice cream truck not watching for cars. They were on a mission, as they were coming one would nip at the other trying to trip the other one up so he could get there first. When they hit about the 300 yd mark, I didn’t know what to do, so I stopped calling, but they didn’t stop coming. When they hit a little island of basically tag alders, they just pushed right though. However upon emerging from the tags one coyote bit at the other coyotes front leg, tripping him up and rolling him in the snow as he continued to the distressful bunny that must be up ahead. Although briefly knocked off course the second coyote wasted no time getting back in the race. Little did he know that seconds later that little stunt would prove to have saved his hide for another day. For just as he was coming up from behind, a silent assassin sitting above already had his not so friendly comrade in the cross hairs, a second later a 40gr HP from the 22mag found bone beneath the mane covering her shoulder blades as her nose was sniffing in the fluffy snow. In an instant he swapped his tail for his head and was gone, leaving his accomplice splayed out on the fresh fluffy snow. That was 20 years ago and I still remember it as if it were yesterday.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hunts from Moon Lights past
Here’s a couple hunts from a couple years ago, just happened to find them in my folders.
I received my new antler open reed call from a guy called Arky Yoter (Joe Bradshaw),so I had to give it a try. It sounds great. Well the nite before last I missed a coyote that came in to the syco tweety, I miss judged the distance in the fog. Anyway, last nite I decided to go out again in the moonlight, the first stand I made was behind a farm where I've taken quite a few coyotes over the years both calling and trapping. It was about 10:30pm with a light haze across the field but it was high enough that you could see well, it just hung there like a ghostly canopy. Well about 5 min. into my calling the haze dropped and I couldn’t see but 10yds. so I packed it up and went looking for a spot with no fog. The next spot produced zip after calling about 30min.So off to my next spot hoping it wouldn’t be foggy there. Well when I got there it was perfect, no fog, no wind and best of all it was right behind a pheasant farm. This spot had rolling hills and was basically pasture because it was too rocky to till for crops. So I head down the lane on foot after parking my truck.I walked about 200yds from the truck and decided to sit on the west fence line facing N-NE, the wind was from the NW and the moon was to my back causing the tree behind me to cast a nice shadow. I was looking into a bowl shaped 40 acre pasture with a high hill to the N that chopped off into little knowls or berms to the south. I've trapped many coyotes and fox in this pasture over the years but never really called it but once before. Anyway I pull out the new antler call I got from Joe and started in on the rabbit wails doing considerable damage to that little critter, it sounded beautiful. About 20 minutes into the stand I noticed the wind picking up and had one of them inklings telling me I should look to my right to see if anything is trying to sneak in down wind. There was a little hill to my right between me and the south fence line. I seen what looked like the top of a fence post standing out like a sore thumb, but noticed it had 2 points on top of it,so I glassed it and sure enough it was a redfox trying to put the sneak on me. I moved my body so I was facing him, all that I could see was his head to just below his chin, he was facing me straight on. I put the cross hairs just under his chin and squeezed off the shot and sent the 100gr sierra from the .243 his way. I heard the unmistakable thwack of bullet hitting meat and bone and he disappeared when he dropped out of sight because of the hill.I gathered up my gear and went to pick him up, it was 141 paces to him. When I got to him he was stone dead, the bullet exited on his right side in the neck, it was a considerable hole but the rest of him is salvageable for a nice hat, I dont see many fox calling so I use the 100gr because on coyotes the hole is about the size of a dime and drops them right now, and I can use the same bullet for deer. The next stand produced zip,the wind was really picking up, so I called it another night.
A few nights later the weather changed for the colder. We had wind chill warnings out all weekend,-35 below. But couldn't stand seeing the moonlight go to waste. Called a friend who's just getting into calling, and I guess he's as nuts as me. We went out about 9pm.We made our first stand in an alfalfa field that runs along a nice little cedar swamp. We had a cross wind, and tucked our selves in the fence row shadows, with the swamp straight out in front of us about 450 yards.
I started the stand with a lone howl from my Red Desert mouth piece. Then waited about 5 min.
Then I started the bunny screams on an Arky yoter antler call,I really laid into it because the wind was howlin' pretty loud. I thought I seen a spot out in the field about 3 min later, about 250yds out, but couldn't tell if it was a coyote. My eyes were watering real bad from the wind. So I thought I'd give the pup distress a crack, to see if that spot would move. When I lit up my puppy squeals on the red desert, that spot not only moved, he came smokin' in, at about 50yds I woofed at him so he'd stop, he did no such thing, never skipped a beat, he was on a mission. So I smoked him at about 40 with the .243 ending his life of crime.My partner couldn't get a shot off and glad I took him. A few nites before, I called one in for him, but he missed. I told him it takes practice to keep your nerves calm to shoot, and not to worry about it, he'll get get one sooner or later.
We made a couple more stands, but nothing. One stand got fouled up, just as we were heading across a field, at 12am,a squad pulled up by our truck, that was pulled off the highway. He shined the field, and spotted us, so we headed over by him, and let him know what we were doing. He said no problem, he thought maybe someone was stranded, and on a nite like this, it could be dangerous with the cold. We sat and shot the breeze for awhile, showed him the yote, then parted ways and hit another stand before heading home.
We went out the next night, but only called in a Barred owl, which BTW, hit me in the head. His talons scratched my left eyebrow, and snagged my face mask, and his tail feathers brushed against my face. I caught movement right by my head and threw up my hand, and glad I did, because, I probably would have been missing an eye. I've had owls swoop at me before, but none ever almost connected like this one did. What happened was I usually wear a billed cap with a stocking cap over it, but being so cold I had a face mask and stocking cap on and the billed hat was too much bother. So while I was calling on my last series of a bunny getting the business I had heard a twig snap across the spring hole in the cedars. I figured it might be a critter coming in cautiously so I hit my squeaker and BAM!!! The fury of death on wings was in my face. I figure with my eye watering that it glistened in the moonlight and no bill on my hat to hide it gave him an easy target. My calling partner was like what the **** was that, while the angel of rabbit death hovered over us trying to figure out if he could still take me. It was a good thing we had heavy insulated cover alls on or our soaked pants would have froze to the ground. Now I always have a billed cap on while night hunting making sure my eyes are shielded from above. You just never know who your going to invite for dinner.
I received my new antler open reed call from a guy called Arky Yoter (Joe Bradshaw),so I had to give it a try. It sounds great. Well the nite before last I missed a coyote that came in to the syco tweety, I miss judged the distance in the fog. Anyway, last nite I decided to go out again in the moonlight, the first stand I made was behind a farm where I've taken quite a few coyotes over the years both calling and trapping. It was about 10:30pm with a light haze across the field but it was high enough that you could see well, it just hung there like a ghostly canopy. Well about 5 min. into my calling the haze dropped and I couldn’t see but 10yds. so I packed it up and went looking for a spot with no fog. The next spot produced zip after calling about 30min.So off to my next spot hoping it wouldn’t be foggy there. Well when I got there it was perfect, no fog, no wind and best of all it was right behind a pheasant farm. This spot had rolling hills and was basically pasture because it was too rocky to till for crops. So I head down the lane on foot after parking my truck.I walked about 200yds from the truck and decided to sit on the west fence line facing N-NE, the wind was from the NW and the moon was to my back causing the tree behind me to cast a nice shadow. I was looking into a bowl shaped 40 acre pasture with a high hill to the N that chopped off into little knowls or berms to the south. I've trapped many coyotes and fox in this pasture over the years but never really called it but once before. Anyway I pull out the new antler call I got from Joe and started in on the rabbit wails doing considerable damage to that little critter, it sounded beautiful. About 20 minutes into the stand I noticed the wind picking up and had one of them inklings telling me I should look to my right to see if anything is trying to sneak in down wind. There was a little hill to my right between me and the south fence line. I seen what looked like the top of a fence post standing out like a sore thumb, but noticed it had 2 points on top of it,so I glassed it and sure enough it was a redfox trying to put the sneak on me. I moved my body so I was facing him, all that I could see was his head to just below his chin, he was facing me straight on. I put the cross hairs just under his chin and squeezed off the shot and sent the 100gr sierra from the .243 his way. I heard the unmistakable thwack of bullet hitting meat and bone and he disappeared when he dropped out of sight because of the hill.I gathered up my gear and went to pick him up, it was 141 paces to him. When I got to him he was stone dead, the bullet exited on his right side in the neck, it was a considerable hole but the rest of him is salvageable for a nice hat, I dont see many fox calling so I use the 100gr because on coyotes the hole is about the size of a dime and drops them right now, and I can use the same bullet for deer. The next stand produced zip,the wind was really picking up, so I called it another night.
A few nights later the weather changed for the colder. We had wind chill warnings out all weekend,-35 below. But couldn't stand seeing the moonlight go to waste. Called a friend who's just getting into calling, and I guess he's as nuts as me. We went out about 9pm.We made our first stand in an alfalfa field that runs along a nice little cedar swamp. We had a cross wind, and tucked our selves in the fence row shadows, with the swamp straight out in front of us about 450 yards.
I started the stand with a lone howl from my Red Desert mouth piece. Then waited about 5 min.
Then I started the bunny screams on an Arky yoter antler call,I really laid into it because the wind was howlin' pretty loud. I thought I seen a spot out in the field about 3 min later, about 250yds out, but couldn't tell if it was a coyote. My eyes were watering real bad from the wind. So I thought I'd give the pup distress a crack, to see if that spot would move. When I lit up my puppy squeals on the red desert, that spot not only moved, he came smokin' in, at about 50yds I woofed at him so he'd stop, he did no such thing, never skipped a beat, he was on a mission. So I smoked him at about 40 with the .243 ending his life of crime.My partner couldn't get a shot off and glad I took him. A few nites before, I called one in for him, but he missed. I told him it takes practice to keep your nerves calm to shoot, and not to worry about it, he'll get get one sooner or later.
We made a couple more stands, but nothing. One stand got fouled up, just as we were heading across a field, at 12am,a squad pulled up by our truck, that was pulled off the highway. He shined the field, and spotted us, so we headed over by him, and let him know what we were doing. He said no problem, he thought maybe someone was stranded, and on a nite like this, it could be dangerous with the cold. We sat and shot the breeze for awhile, showed him the yote, then parted ways and hit another stand before heading home.
We went out the next night, but only called in a Barred owl, which BTW, hit me in the head. His talons scratched my left eyebrow, and snagged my face mask, and his tail feathers brushed against my face. I caught movement right by my head and threw up my hand, and glad I did, because, I probably would have been missing an eye. I've had owls swoop at me before, but none ever almost connected like this one did. What happened was I usually wear a billed cap with a stocking cap over it, but being so cold I had a face mask and stocking cap on and the billed hat was too much bother. So while I was calling on my last series of a bunny getting the business I had heard a twig snap across the spring hole in the cedars. I figured it might be a critter coming in cautiously so I hit my squeaker and BAM!!! The fury of death on wings was in my face. I figure with my eye watering that it glistened in the moonlight and no bill on my hat to hide it gave him an easy target. My calling partner was like what the **** was that, while the angel of rabbit death hovered over us trying to figure out if he could still take me. It was a good thing we had heavy insulated cover alls on or our soaked pants would have froze to the ground. Now I always have a billed cap on while night hunting making sure my eyes are shielded from above. You just never know who your going to invite for dinner.
Sneaky little Red, or atleast he thought he was.
Thirty-five below zero moonlight coyote, those puppy kiyi's where just too much for him to bear.
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