Two incidents in the hunting field:
I was hunting in New Mexico, at the base of Mangas Mountain. I was sitting in a position carefully selected for observation of any coyotes responding to my call. I had the wind in my favor. They would be coming down and out of the brushy draw, into the clear area just below me.
I worked the call with the expertise developed in years of experience calling coyotes in South Texas. I put the call in my pocket, and lifted the Browning .270 off my lap to allow me to shift my position — the hard ground was getting uncomfortable. A casual glance over my right shoulder revealed two coyotes gazing intently at me from ten feet away. Behind me. Where they had to have come the wrong way, up wind, across open ground, to approach me where I was sitting out in the open. I was grateful that they had not attacked me. So grateful that I allowed one of them to depart, unharmed.
The other incident was while I was sitting, patiently watching a small pond high up on Luna Mountain, where we had found bear tracks in the soft mud around the water. Stan was similarly positioned about twenty yards to my right. I was fighting to avoid snoozing, when the report of Stan’s .25-06 woke me up. Wide awake, I stood up facing him. He pointed to the crumpled 150 pound bear lying on the ground 50 feet away. That gentle looking ball of fur had been bringing a mouth full of teeth, and four paws with 20 claws right up to my backside.
Mixed feelings, defined: Stan shot MY bear — just before it licked me in the ear.
And an incident in the city:
Working narcotics while I was a deputy sheriff entailed a lot of sitting in my car, watching locations where drug transactions were made.
I felt rather foolish — embarrassed, actually — when a dealer crept up from behind me and appeared suddenly at the window of my car.
No real harm done — he just looked into my eyes, and turned and walked away. He’d made his point — I’d have to try another day, to get anything on him.
The takeaway from these incidents is this: there is a need for a device that monitors my six, to notify me when anyone — man or beast — approaches from the rear.
1 comment:
Being a non hunter, this was interesting to read about the stealth of your prey. It did conjure up a time I 'shot snapping turtles' with my 22 alongside my father-in-law. He wanted them 'out' of his pond. It was like 'Whack a Mole'...one would pop up and we'd see who could get it. It was my one and only 'hunting' experience and now I feel horrible about shooting those innocent snapping turtles...though we nabbed about 20...there are always more to take their place.
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