Today is our last day of hunting in Minnesota. The number of other hunters we see has dwindled to almost none, and the birds we find are obviously "educated" to the ways of dog, gun, and humans. Still, I'll take the somber colors of the frost seared Minnesota Northwoods.
Yesterday we logged almost 10 miles and only flushed 8 birds, but on our "last hour" hunt where we flushed 5, Rill pointed 4 of them, and I managed to take another bird with a new gun that I really wanted to blood over Rill -- mission accomplished(!). This was an especially satisfying bird. I took the shot in thick cover and could not see the bird go down. Feeling i was on the bird, I took Rill into the thick stuff and she finally found our trophy after a diligent search. Among a hunter's pleasures is taking a bird fairly over a dog you trained yourself -- and with a new gun. We did that only twice yesterday, but I was completely satisfied. No bag limits are as sweet to me.
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"Doubtless the good Lord could have made a better game bird than bobwhite, and better country to hunt him in...but equally doubtless, he never did." -- Guy de la Valdene (from A Handful of Feathers )
"'I promise you,' he said, 'on my word of honor, I won't die on the opening of the bird season.'" -- Robert Ruark (from The Old Man and the Boy)
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