Great Misses
“I have never missed a deer!” proudly proclaimed a relatively new hunter sitting across from me at a late November campfire. I glanced at Luke Clayton, my longtime friend and hunting partner, who was sitting next to him. He smiled and wagged his head in a negative...
Death of the Red-Winged Mallard
A classic Story from 1900 by H.S. Canfield. It took Robert Lee Briggs five years, working off and on, to slay the red-winged mallard. The pursuit got to be so much of a passion with him that it hurt his business, for he was a market-hunter on the southwestern coast of...
Aim of the Hunterman
Pitted with rust and powder-scalds, the old musket would explode with a roar that sounded like the crack of doom. And now, in the dusky hands of the Hunterman, it was all that stood between life and a terrible death. The negroes in the golden-wide ricefield, as they...
My Dog’s Better Than Your Dog
America’s most popular hunting breeds—and the people who wouldn’t dream of owning anything else. Tell a hunter his truck is junk and he might agree. Suggest he bought the wrong dog and you’d better arrange another ride home. Breed loyalists run unpaid publicity...
Don’t Fence Me In
Pronghorns numbers are benefiting thanks to funding by Pittman-Robertson. A state highway that reels off into the distance looks like a sun-scorched, gray-black ribbon laid over tawny grassy hills. Lonely locust trees here and there over much of the West favor their...
Why I Taught My Boys to be Hunters
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 without having one or more of my own sons with me. Few human relationships are...
When I Was a Boy
Things were different when he was a lad—back when nothing was artificial or contrived, and the days and seasons were filled with high adventure. It’s a popular pastime among adults, when the hair begins to gray and the aches of middle age grow stronger, to look back...
Nothing To Do for Three Weeks
He was a pine knot millionaire—hunting partridge on the tote roads and ducks on the lake, catching big crappies and trout in the rivers, gathering blueberries for food and pine knots for the fire, all work fit for a king. I left long before daylight, alone but not...
The Adults in the Room: Why I Support the Congressional Sportsmen’s Foundation
Washington is full of people willing to tell a sportsman what he wants to hear. Finding someone who will tell him what he needs to know takes more insight. That is one reason the Congressional Sportsmen’s Foundation stays near the top of my call list. I’ve served on...
Down in the Bend With Riley
The eloquent writings of Nash Buckingham (1880-1971) were relatively unknown until Derrydale Press published several of his books in the 1930s. But “Mr. Buck,” as he came to be known to his legions of devoted readers, had been writing magazine articles for years. This...