New York Was Far Away
The valley was long and narrow, filled with the green of rich grass and the pale gold of frost-touched arctic willow. Along the edges of the valley was a thick border of spruce, but not far up the mountainsides, the woods played out in a scattering of scrubby trees....
In the Field Trial Kingdom, Labs Rule
The Labrador retriever’s distinctions are many. If there’s one arena in which the Lab is utterly and incontrovertibly dominant, it’s retriever field trials. The most popular purebred dog in America; the most popular gundog, too: the Labrador retriever’s distinctions...
Bullets, Birds, and the Blessing of Saint Expedite
Shooting trip of a lifetime, Delta Flight 101 out of Hartsfield, non-stop to Buenos Aires. Easy flight, eat supper, stretch out, drift off, wake up speaking Spanish. Five thousand some-odd miles at 700 some-odd miles-per-hour at 26,000 some-odd feet. But it’s hard...
The Firing Line
Last November in Scotland, a line of seven friends spaced 20 yards apart marched across a harvested field in pursuit of pheasant. On that misty morning, hunters, dogs and gamekeepers were eager to find birds and almost immediately they did. A brightly feathered...
Ducks Down Under
The author would enjoy many pleasant surprises during his week of waterfowling in Australia.
This Old House
When the old house was occupied, its splintering walls were stout, its diminutive shelter a fortress of good spirits, its heartwood hale and its ambiance light with ale. Way long ago now, in the antediluvian and simplistic age in which I knew boyhood, circa. 1954,...
True Blue
Grandma’s farm consisted of five acres, mostly wooded except for a half-acre garden loaded with berries and vegetables. Out back stood a shed stuffed with old rakes and spades and other hand tools. Mason jars were scattered among bushel and berry baskets filled with...
The Bond Between Hunter and Dog
The guy’s name was Charlie, I think. The one time I met him, at the now long-defunct Gustav Pabst Invitational Hungarian Partridge Shoot, he showed up in a Jaguar sedan with his German short-haired pointer riding shotgun. That was pretty cool, but what made an even...
The Real Deal
Without the ordinary, there would be no extraordinary. If there were no karaoke, how would we recognize the spine-tingling excellence of Pavarotti or Bocelli? How would we recognize the genius of Einstein or Hawking if there were no ordinary thinkers? And who would...
Bob White The Story of a Quail
The nest, with its precious contents of 16 little eggs, occupied a snug corner of the old rail fence, hidden amongst the tall rank grass from the sharp eye of marauding crow or pirate hawk. Mr. and Mrs. Bob White were very proud of their treasures, and Mr. Bob would...