by Dwight Van Brunt | Sep 19, 2022
“George is here with us in spirit, and I have a feeling that everything is going to work out. In truth, I think it’s going to be magical.”
by Chuck Wechsler | Sep 16, 2022
To elicit thoughtful reflection … to trigger an emotional response, these are the things McKissick seeks in his art. Of course you can’t always tell a book by its cover — nor a painter by his paintings. Take Randall McKissick, for example. With just a...
by Theodore Roosevelt | Sep 14, 2022
Almost every trapper past middle age who has spent his life in the wilderness has stories to tell about exceptionally savage bears. One of these stories was told in my ranch house one evening by an old mountain hunter, clad in fur cap, buckskin hunting shirt, and...
by Chuck Wechsler | Sep 7, 2022
The artistic legacy of Wilhelm Kuhnert, abridged by the first Great War and almost devastated by the second, is known to but a few wildlife art enthusiasts. On April 30, 1906, Wilhelm Kuhnert and his expedition of 80 porters were encamped along a wide river, less than...
by John Seerey-Lester | Aug 31, 2022
Terror in the tall grass.
by Nathan Wiese | Aug 25, 2022
A trout biologist muses on the path from his first whitetail hunt as a boy in Wisconsin to a pronghorn one on the New Mexico prairie.
by Theodore Roosevelt | Aug 22, 2022
Was it a bear, a man, or a devil that killed the hunter’s companion?
by Kenneth Anderson | Aug 19, 2022
Kenneth Douglas Stuart Anderson (1910-1974) was an Anglo-Indian who spent most of his life in Bangalore, India. An avid hunter, he was fascinated by the subcontinent’s big cats, and most of his tales dealt with the drama and dangers of man-killing tigers and...
by W. Horace Carter | Aug 18, 2022
“Three Toes,” said an old rancher, with a kind of reverence, “is the fastest, longest-winded wolf that ever lived.” A smile swept across the craggy, weather-beaten face of Clyde F. Briggs as he read a telegram from the U. S, Biological Survey:...
by John Whinery | Aug 15, 2022
Poetic justice, I thought — that on the same mountain where I’d shot that bull in the heart before, I got hit in the heart. About mid-morning on a Montana mountainside the guide heard “Cody, just a minute.” He turned to see the hunter lean forward, then fall...