I was about 12 years old when I decided that I wanted to go camping on our farm. There was an abundance of freedom on 80 acres. We had 8 ponds, 1 large lake and 2 creeks, with an abundance of wildlife. It was a nice fall weekend and my parents had planned a get to gather with some of their friends. I asked if I could take my single shot 410, and to my surprise my parents said yes. My first time completely alone.
It was dove season, but quail, squirrel and turkey were occasionally found on the farm. We had deer on the farm also but it usually takes a slug to bring something like that down, and I didn’t take that kind of ammo with me.
I took my pack, my dog, and my gun and set out for the back 40. I traveled as far from the house and livestock as I could and still be on our land before I pitched camp and built a fire.
From my earliest memories, I can remember watching my father build fires. Something he made sure that he passed on to my sister and I. Various methods of fire making was my sister and my greatest joys, it was a competition between us while camping from the time we were very young.
I set up the tent and went hunting. We, (me and my dog- Boots) killed 4 squirrel in the immediate area, cleaned them and put them on spits to roast for dinner (and breakfast) for both of us. We settled in for the evening, enjoying dinner and playing with the fire before bedtime. The next morning (Sunday) about daylight, I rebuilt the fire and set out for the nearest pond to hunt. We were after dove. We found duck!
My dog was well trained, he always obeyed my commands, and he wasn’t gun shy. Plus he knew what we were doing. He was right with me when we came up over the steep bank of the pond. Much to our surprise the pond was covered with Mallard ducks. The really cool thing was that most of them dove instead of flying off. I killed one in the air, and reloaded. All I had to do was wait for them to come up. I picked them off one by one as they surfaced. I had plenty of time to reload. I killed 11 ducks that morning. I took us almost an hour to retrieve the birds from the water. Steep banks and cattails lining the bank hampered the efforts. I had to make a throw line and use long sticks to collect them.
The dog helped but with the steep banks I had to retrieve him twice, and the water was really cold. By the time we got back, tore down camp and got back to the house, the morning had gone. Pop had planned a Sunday cookout and beer-fest around a ballgame, so most of his friends were there when I got back to the house.
Our garage was set up like a meat processing room. We had a huge hardwood cutting table, butcher knives, a meat grinder and meat hooks hanging from the rafters for deer and pig. Texas has always had a breed of wild pig, small and hairy animals known as “Javalina”. Only slightly related to the hoard of feral boar that have overtaken most of the south.
We also had 2 rather large freezers. If we could we’d take the animal to the meat market and have it processed, but that was sometimes a little tricky. Pig was always ok, but deer had to be in season and tagged, so we processed them at the house most of the time. I wasn’t really sure how to clean a duck, so I laid them out on the table and went to get Pop.
I came through the garage and opened the back garage door for backyard access. Pop was amazed, he was really taken aback, that I had killed so many with a single shot gun. He and a neighbor friend went back to the pond to see if there was any more ducks, and they killed a couple but nothing like the success that I had, earlier in the day. Pop bragged on me for years about that kill. And, of course, it became part of the lore and legacy of that particular gun.
It was dove season, but quail, squirrel and turkey were occasionally found on the farm. We had deer on the farm also but it usually takes a slug to bring something like that down, and I didn’t take that kind of ammo with me.
I took my pack, my dog, and my gun and set out for the back 40. I traveled as far from the house and livestock as I could and still be on our land before I pitched camp and built a fire.
From my earliest memories, I can remember watching my father build fires. Something he made sure that he passed on to my sister and I. Various methods of fire making was my sister and my greatest joys, it was a competition between us while camping from the time we were very young.
I set up the tent and went hunting. We, (me and my dog- Boots) killed 4 squirrel in the immediate area, cleaned them and put them on spits to roast for dinner (and breakfast) for both of us. We settled in for the evening, enjoying dinner and playing with the fire before bedtime. The next morning (Sunday) about daylight, I rebuilt the fire and set out for the nearest pond to hunt. We were after dove. We found duck!
My dog was well trained, he always obeyed my commands, and he wasn’t gun shy. Plus he knew what we were doing. He was right with me when we came up over the steep bank of the pond. Much to our surprise the pond was covered with Mallard ducks. The really cool thing was that most of them dove instead of flying off. I killed one in the air, and reloaded. All I had to do was wait for them to come up. I picked them off one by one as they surfaced. I had plenty of time to reload. I killed 11 ducks that morning. I took us almost an hour to retrieve the birds from the water. Steep banks and cattails lining the bank hampered the efforts. I had to make a throw line and use long sticks to collect them.
The dog helped but with the steep banks I had to retrieve him twice, and the water was really cold. By the time we got back, tore down camp and got back to the house, the morning had gone. Pop had planned a Sunday cookout and beer-fest around a ballgame, so most of his friends were there when I got back to the house.
Our garage was set up like a meat processing room. We had a huge hardwood cutting table, butcher knives, a meat grinder and meat hooks hanging from the rafters for deer and pig. Texas has always had a breed of wild pig, small and hairy animals known as “Javalina”. Only slightly related to the hoard of feral boar that have overtaken most of the south.
We also had 2 rather large freezers. If we could we’d take the animal to the meat market and have it processed, but that was sometimes a little tricky. Pig was always ok, but deer had to be in season and tagged, so we processed them at the house most of the time. I wasn’t really sure how to clean a duck, so I laid them out on the table and went to get Pop.
I came through the garage and opened the back garage door for backyard access. Pop was amazed, he was really taken aback, that I had killed so many with a single shot gun. He and a neighbor friend went back to the pond to see if there was any more ducks, and they killed a couple but nothing like the success that I had, earlier in the day. Pop bragged on me for years about that kill. And, of course, it became part of the lore and legacy of that particular gun.
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