Let the Hunts Begin
The back roads are always empty in southern part of the Provinces. They had a dry summer and the crop was off early but the prices are high. I find a place near the bottom lands that always produced Huns and grouse. I am using my new old Holland and Holland Royal ejector with Damascus tubes and a new leather pad I had installed. The game gun fits me to a tee and with open bore over pointing dogs, the Holland is deadly. My farmer friends who shoot more practical guns have Mossberg pumps and one even splurged to use a Remington 870. They and their boys always join me hoping to see me shoot my Hammerguns but they are satisfied as I am using Damascus. This will be a morning shoot and the birds are plentiful and mature. By noon we have bagged twelve Huns and four grouse. I have to tag mine as a Alien non residence, typical over use of terms by gov types, while the rest of the natives just fields dress them for tomorrow nights supper.
The dogs are watered as we head back to the farm for a noon dinner. The Mrs. has prepared a feast of Saskatchewan table fare and although next week is the Canadian Thanksgiving, Lorrie she pull out all the stops from her garden we feast on fresh butchered chickens, red mashed potatoes, buttered turnip pirogues and heaps of ripe sweet tomatoes and cucs. I bring Ellen’s pickle and the readily pass the test. Ellen is invited to move up here and garden. Ellen would be happy with a high sped internet connection and a loamy silt soil for her gardens. Saskatchewan is bettered wired than the US and there is wireless even “out yonder.”
Table talk ranges from the early harvest and the fields having no moisture to weather the winter to Bush and Cheney getting us into Iraq and the overwhelming debit and credit crash. I am not an apologist for Bush and it is tough to hear how angry many are up here about America is toppled as the leader of the free world. They believe as I that the armed forces are the finest with a task hard to due but in the end they will prevail as the Canadian Force are doing in Afghanistan. I’ve had enough of CNN and “fair and balanced Fox and Limbaugh and I turned my attention to the living room to watch the teenage boys roughing on the floor it with my dogs. They can not get enough of them and their playfulness. They are used to farm dogs that keep the coyotes and foxes away from the poultry. They love the lab especially for her retrieving abilities on cripple but Fe the wirehair is so wolfish looking they enjoy her antics and hunting powers but fear her a bit.
Late afternoon after a siesta from the food we load the dogs and Jack will get into waders. We throw five greenhead decoys into the back of the dodge and the three pickup head down the grid road to the five acres pot hole that was bursting with mallards. The tactic k is to first scare off the ducks quickly surround the tree lined water and safely shoot the greenheads as they return beckoned by calls and a few decoys. It is almost like shooting ducks in timber. Within ten minutes the mallard’s ducks begin to trickle back. We are mindful that Susie shooting is fines and so we pass several hens before Belle is sent to retrieve two ecliptic mallards. There are seven of us and the limit is 56 and these farmers still enjoy roast and Bar B Qed duck like mother used to cook. I love my Duck
