Double Down Coyotes

By Duane Fronek

  I have a couple hunting buddies that I like to hunt with and when time permits I’ll team up with one of them to go after coyotes. Today one fellow dogman Volker gave me a call, he had time to get out and do a few stands before dark. Volker has the addiction as bad as me, he will go through anything to call in and kill a coyote, it’s a passion that he shares with many of the other coyote hunters out there. So I head over to his place and load up the gear, rifles, hot seats and shooting sticks, then we’re off.

  We decide to hit the river nearby and decide on a spot we were busted  on a few weeks back by the skeptic nose of a coyote, well twice actually, This spot has a funny bend in it that messes with the wind. Today the wind was out of the southwest, and figured that might be the ticket for that spot. On our way we noticed that the deer were out feeding and not just a couple, a lot. We had deer cutting across in front of us on the way there and we even seen rabbits out eating the dry grass and probably the salt that was along the roads. It was feeding time and if those critters were out, no doubt the coyotes were too.

  We arrive at our point of entry, a small pull over spot on state land, gated of course. After getting saddled up, we head down the well packed deer path to the river, it was about a quarter mile walk in, no other human tracks around, but deer tracks up the whazoo. We even seen 6 deer walking in as well.

  Upon arriving at the river we find the wind in our favor  on this go round. We pick our position right up tight to the river where a clump of tag alders made it’s home. Volker takes his seat to the right of the tags, with his 10ga stuffed with 3 ½ mags ready to unleash it’s load of #4 buckshot, he’s nestled in and ready to take a sneaker  wanting to come in through the back door. As Volkers ready to go, I am as well, taking my position to the left of the tags and perched on the shelf ice on the rivers edge, hoping it doesn’t give way.

  I’m facing down stream, wind in my face, I can see a good 500yds of open highway, ready to tumble any speedsters coming in. Across the river about 50yds is a thick cedar swamp that stretches for atleast a half mile both ways, perfect habitat for deer and snow shoe hares and the killers that stalk them, the coyote.

  Being it’s late February, I pull out my Red Desert open reed. Putting the call to my deceitful lips, I unleash a few barks and howls, notifying any resident King and Queen there was an intruder in their kingdom. Another 30 seconds and I broadcast my blatant  trespass into the wind with another series of barks, yips, and howls. Then give a moment of silence for the dirty deed I'm about do. The deed arrived about the 2 minute mark when my lying lips screamed the death throws of a hare being murdered by the intruder.

  This was too much for the Queen and her King, through the cedars across the river two figures were fast approaching, their legs mingling with the under brush as they move frantically through the swamp, giving only glimpses of their vulnerable figures. The Queen arrived first, looking for a fight, her hackles raised on her back  as she closes in on the river bank 50yds away, suddenly she comes to a halt to assess the situation, looking for the squatter. Her King stood back 20 feet upon the slight rise behind her majesty, shrouded by the bows of the cedars that covered the Kingdom. Little did she know the intruder had the Nikon locked on her chest at which a second later sent the signal to the .243 to send a screaming 100 grainer into the boiler room through the front door. As she hit the snow her sidekick ran in and nipped at her back and darted back into the shadows of the cedars. He paced back and forth as his legs gave away his position. As I watched, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my second line of offense, my carlton mini open reed ,and squealed like a wounded dog giving up the ghost. As the sounds of my deceit reached   his panicking ears and confused state of mind, he made a beeline to the right of his fallen comrade, not knowing he had passed her due to the slight rise hiding her from view. As he headed for a better vantage point to find his fallen partner, he hesitated in an opening just before he could of reached the safety of an uprooted cedar. The assailant wasted no time in taking advantage of that fatal mistake. The roar of the .243 raped the landscape, notifying the occupants the ruling duo would harass them no more.

The Double Feb. 27th 2011