Ya know, I been thinkin’ again. It seems that I do a lot of thinkin’ lately, recollecting mostly good times spent roaming the South Texas brush country. It all started 70 years ago, when one of my Dad’s friends took me rabbit hunting and let me shoot his .22 rifle. After getting Dad’s approval, he gave me that little Remington 510 Targetmaster rifle, which, as a 9 year old boy, I had come to love.
From that time forward, I took every opportunity to go shooting. It really didn’t matter if the target was just an old rusty tin can, a stick floating in the river or the ever present rabbit. I wish I had a penny for every round I put through that little .22. That would be a real money maker, especially since .22 shorts only cost 35 cents a box back then.
The little 510 was later used to teach my wife, son and two grandchildren to shoot and has now been passed down in my family to the third generation.
Growing up, my hunting was limited to small game, dove, ducks and geese until a high school buddy invited me to spend Christmas break at their family deer lease and I knew I’d be back one day.
If I had to describe a typical predator stand today, I guess I’d have to say it’s the total serenity of the brush country which allows one’s thoughts to range far and wide, combined with the anticipation as to when and what will step out of that brush, punctuated by watching some critter charging in as he responds to the call. Yep, that’s what attracts me most to the South Texas brush country.
Fast forward to the present. Since the wife’s BP had been under control for two weeks and the planets finally lined up in a manner which would allow me to leave, I dared to think about planning another hunt. This would be a two day trip to an 11,000 acre ranch located just 50 miles from home for my fourth and fifth day in the field since the first of November. If the need should arise, I could be home in just under an hour.
I called my hunting partner and we made our plans to concentrate on coyotes while keeping an eye peeled for hogs as well, should one happen to cross our path.
We arrived at camp the night before our hunt and loaded our gear in the jeep. After washing off a three week accumulation of owl poop on the jeep, we moved it from the pole barn and parked it in front of the bunk house for the night. Man that stuff is like concrete, especially when it has been drying for a several weeks.
When you are accustomed to hunting 3 or more days a week pretty much year round for many years and then have a long hiatus, anticipation really intensifies the night before the hunt, or at least it does for me.
I spent a restless night, torn between concern for my wife’s health and visions of all the coyotes that we had been neglecting for three and a half months that would surely be overrunning our position the next day.
After a seemingly endless night, the alarm signaled that it was finally time to get up and we had a quick tortilla and cup of coffee and it was off to the races. Approaching the jeep, I noticed it had once again been visited overnight by that blooming owl! I figured that he had been roosting in the rafters of the pole barn, but I guess that sorry son of a buzzard had actually been perching on the rag top of my jeep, as it was already in need of another wash job. That stinkin’ owl needs to be put on a diet!
As we were getting in the jeep, three different groups of coyotes serenaded us; the first group not too far NE of camp. I figured them to be in the vicinity of a small gas separation plant which happens to be one of our pet locations to call.
Since we have had a wet year this year, weeds and grass are tall and visibility is limited to mowed roadways and senderos or the few nearly dry laguna beds where grass and foliage is short.
This plant is unmanned and has a pipeline sendero running up to the fence from the east, providing good visibility. It is ideal between first light and sunrise, but the sunrise really blinds you on all but heavily overcast days.
This has been a very productive spot over the years, but it turned out to be a dry stand this trip. While calling at the gas plant, however, we got a response from a group of coyotes that I would guess to have been a mile or so ESE, so we broke it down and headed that way at sunrise.
Our destination was another favorite spot along an outer fence line which runs N and S. We generally set up back to back at a cattle guard in a fence running E and W where it intersects the N-S fence and place the call beside the fence road to our south. Since the gentle breeze was coming from WNW, that should have been a plan, but when we arrived, we found that the roadway from the cattle guard north, for at least ½ mile, was under a foot or more of water. Well, guess we’ll both have to hunt south, as the jeep was visible from the roadway to our west.
As it turned out, my partner had placed the foxpro just out of range so switched to the TT howler and gave it my best shot. It would seem that my partner and I were both a bit rusty as my version of female invitational was no better than his judgment as to placement of the call. The howl was, however, good enough to get a response from the other side of the fence and our anticipation stepped up a notch.
While watching and waiting, I lapsed back into the thinkin’ phase of the stand. It was great to be back in the brush once more. It was a beautiful 30* morning with the young sunrise glistening on a heavy frost. We were on this gorgeous ranch which is rich in both native and exotic critters, doing what I love to do. It doesn’t get much better than that!
Several more responses from the large ranch to our east interrupted my thoughts, but couldn’t coax them in, even with pup distress. The first visitor we had was this curious nilgai bull.
Spring was definitely in the air, as our next interlopers were these two bull waterbucks engaged in a “hot” dispute over a nearby cow as they sparred and chased one another in and out of the roadway a dozen times or more during the last fifteen minutes of the stand.
Just as I was considering a move, a very large coyote walked across the roadway 300-350 yards south of us. No chance for a shot and he never knew we were there as he was concentrating on the Waterbucks’ antics going on to his south. I tried several different calls in hopes of getting another look at him, but no dice. He was headed toward some pretty heavy brush where I suspect he was contemplating his mid-day siesta after a night out on the town.
My partner was walking down to pick up the call when a smaller coyote ran into the roadway much farther south, so we decided to move to the SE corner of the ranch where we have had good luck in the past. After all, the second coyote was headed in that direction and the corner is only about a mile farther to the south.
You can usually hunt three directions from this corner as there is a wide sendero that intersects the fence roadways right at the corner at a 45* angle. Unfortunately, this year they did not mow this sendero and the grass is too high to see a coyote, so we put the call north of corner and I hunted that direction while my partner looked west.
I spent the next 45 minutes deeply absorbed in the many memories made over the last fifteen years I’ve been privileged to hunt here. I was first introduced to the ranch as a guest by a lease member fifteen years ago and became fascinated with the wide assortment of game, but especially the herds of eland that called it home.
A mature Eland is the largest antelope in the world, standing 6 1/2’ tall at the withers and weighing up to 2000 lbs., yet it is said that they can jump a 10’ fence. I saw one stand flat footed next to a 6’ fence and clear it with ease.
When I could resist the urge no longer, I booked a hunt. Turns out they are not only a fascinating animal to hunt, they are excellent table fare as well.
Next, I thought of the many deer and nilgai cow hunts that I have enjoyed as well as a number of scimitar horned oryx, culminated by the gemsbok hunt last year. Then there were all of the hog and coyote hunts to fill in the gaps……………
My thoughts were interrupted by my partner whispering, “coyote”, as a coyote trotted across the west roadway he was watching, too fast for a shot. We continued to call for another 15 minutes to no avail and headed into camp for breakfast.
After our meal, I called to check on the wife and found that her BP was on the rise, so we loaded up and headed home.
On the road, I was once again thinking……and thanking God for allowing me to enjoy His great creation all of these years and, His gift of this beautiful morning spent back in the south Texas brush country.
Regards,
hm
