Our Gobbler

Our Gobbler

I suppose that there are other things that make a hunter uneasy, but of one thing I am very sure: that is, to locate and to begin to stalk a deer or a turkey, only to find that another hunter is doing precisely the same thing at the same time. The feeling I had was...
Quail of the Kalmias

Quail of the Kalmias

These birds of the hills develop both a speed of flight and a finesse of dodging that are superior to anything the field birds can show.

A Fox and a Conscience

A Fox and a Conscience

Conscience,” the negro minister had solemnly said in his sermon that Sunday, “is sho’ going to keep a man good. It will make yo’ ‘fraid to lie, or steal, or bear false witness.” Ben, the old negro who had outlived his generation and who was sheltered in his desolate...
An excerpt from The Kings of Curlew Island

An excerpt from The Kings of Curlew Island

It was Richard who showed me the huge antler—a dropped horn from a whitetail buck. Massive to a degree rarely seen, not less than five inches it measured around the handsome beading. Moreover, there were nine clear points, none mere craggy excrescences; they were...
Grouse of the Little Hills

Grouse of the Little Hills

I have always felt that the ruffed grouse is the wariest, the swiftest and the most beautiful gamebird in the world. The bronzed magnificence of old gobblers allures me; so does the gleam of sunlight on the tall and craggy antlers of the whitetail. Yet a hunting...
The Lady in Green

The Lady in Green

Everybody had now gathered but Steve. When questioned, the other drivers disclaimed all knowledge of his whereabouts or his peculiar behavior. But they knew perfectly of both. For a very long time we have had on the plantation a black man named Steve. For a generation...
The Baby Toddles

The Baby Toddles

I think a dog’s pleasure in scenting game is certainly as keen as our seeing it. How many birds do you think there are in it?” I asked Jake. “Forty if there’s one,” he said. I believed him; for Jack owed me nothing, and he is not a farmer. To a farmer — at least, to...
Why I Taught My Boys to be Hunters

Why I Taught My Boys to be Hunters

It has always seemed to me that any man is a better man for being a hunter. I have said that my hunting has often been solitary; but that was chiefly in the early days. During the last 25 years, I have rarely taken to the woods and fields in the shooting season...