The Eyes Have It!

The Eyes Have It!

It was an embarrassing moment to say the least. I, an experienced wildlife biologist, lifelong hunter, had pointed toward three animals on a broad New Mexico plain north of Roswell and proclaimed them to be pronghorn antelope. “I don’t think so,” said my wife. “I...
Rogue Male: Ewart Grogan

Rogue Male: Ewart Grogan

There is a certain kind of man who can get away with damn near anything. They generally come from a line of charming rebels and often combine good looks with a devil-may-care attitude and a distaste for authority. Standing alone is their superpower, vanity their...
Monarch of the Zselics

Monarch of the Zselics

The stag understood who he was. He stood next to a tree line in Hungary’s Zselic Mountains where his hinds could admire him and the smaller stags hidden in the forest would know they were trespassing. The stag’s head was crowned with heavy antlers that stretched out...
Chasing the Caribou

Chasing the Caribou

A witless beast could hardly inflict the trials, even perils, visited on caribou hunters. Could it? Had the rain paused more often, I might have looked longer. But the ceiling had a deliberate set, as if the low, lugubrious clouds were screwed in place. Dawn’s veil of...
Joseph Thomson: Mystery Man of Africa

Joseph Thomson: Mystery Man of Africa

Over the course of the 19th century, phenomenon sometimes referred to as “the opening up of Africa,” hunters and explorers, along with a solid sprinkling of traders, were in the forefront. They pioneered the way into the interior and their tales of grand adventures,...
Bones Among the Blazes

Bones Among the Blazes

How A Wildfire Almost Sent My Ram Tag Up In Flames Only 30 minutes into the first day of the season on a brisk December morning, I am at full draw on an old battle-scarred ram. A slight breeze coming up off the North Fork of the Big Thompson River is trying its best...
Woodcock Shooting on the Upper Mississippi

Woodcock Shooting on the Upper Mississippi

In few places has there ever been woodcock shooting that for certainty of finding the birds and ease in following them equaled the sport of the bottom lands of the upper Mississippi River 20 years ago. Scarcely any of the resident sportsmen then troubled this charming...
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