A Letter to My Cousin

A Letter to My Cousin

Written on a Sunday evening in Charlotte, North Carolina, this letter originally appeared in Sundown Covey (1986). The author dedicated his book to his grandsons “and all who share with us the precept that the hunting and the fishing are more important than the kill...

Dove Hunting in the Heart of Texas

There’s an old and much quoted saying that everything is bigger in Texas, and when it comes to football and dove hunting, that’s no lie. But for the sake of this story, I’m going to talk dove hunting in Coleman County. It has one of the highest dove populations in the...

What To Hunt

So, what to hunt? Everything with feathers! Mike sometimes says he thinks he needs to show me a picture of the bird(s) we will be hunting that day. OK, I get distracted because any and all birds are on my radar. I live to hunt birds. This is the time of year when...

Eric Forlee A Painter Charged with Life

And “charged” with life is exactly what he means. Incredibly, he has had no formal art training, yet he is considered by many to be among the world’s best wildlife artists. He considers himself a cultural orphan, whose life experiences span three...

Getting There

I take my time with the old men now. I take my time with the duffers I find on opening day, swapping yarns and a thermos by 9am, or posted alone on a barren ridge no deer has crossed in more than a decade. They will tell me, whether I ask or not, that they don’t...

Hunting is a Marathon

Hunting is a marathon and Mike and anyone hunting afield with me needs to keep up! Hunting is a task that is not to be taken lightly. Once the door is open on the truck and I spring out faster than a jack-n-the-box, it’s like the Kentucky Derby — I’m off to the race!...

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...