by Edmund Ware Smith | Dec 23, 2024
“Look out, Dad!” Through the network of brown November branches I could see into the little open where my father watched for the driven grouse. This was the shot he loved best in all bird shooting. He had taught me its strategy the I was twelve, taught me right here...
by Larry Rather | Oct 18, 2023
How he hoped that his son’s first hunt would be just as memorable as his own 30 years ago. And now, as a chilling wind sliced through the canyon, the perfect words to calm the boy just wouldn’t come. But something else would. Big blue eyes met mine; his...
by Jaques Rutten | Aug 17, 2023
Deep down, he knew this duck, this day, no matter how good it had been, could not have made up for the things they had already lost. As they turned off the main highway onto a rutted two-track, Tom glanced over at his son and wondered what Casey would be thinking....
by Archibald Rutledge | Oct 13, 2022
It has always seemed to me that any man is a better man for being a hunter. 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...
by H. William Rice | Mar 4, 2022
And now, he realized, he also knew something about these woods and waters his father had hunted and fished — something deeply personal. The boy was the youngest and smallest of the cousins, so at the family’s gatherings, his cousins would reluctantly let him...
