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datasets.iitb.crawledDocs.yn_08Oct08_file_212 Maven / Gradle / Ivy

  Lakes Seacoast Newspaper Subject SITE SEARCH Pat Rollins: Fun grouse hunting with an old dog Pat Rollins The Outdoorsman Article Date: Tuesday, October 7, 2008 I'd just walked in the house after spending most of the morning in a tree stand hunting deer when the phone rang. I looked at the caller I.D., when I noticed Pete's name I thought he might be calling to tell me he'd taken a deer, however he was getting ready to go grouse hunting and wanted me to join him. "I thought you might have tagged out this morning," I told him. "No such luck," he replied. "The whole time I was sitting there I was thinking about going to get the dogs and going up to those grown over fields to hunt partridge... How about you, did you see anything?" "Yeah I had two small does come in but they weren't what I was looking for," I answered. Pete told me he'd scouted some apple trees along the edge of some old fields for deer a few weeks ago and jumped a bunch of grouse. He said he couldn't wait to get back there once bird season opened, but hadn't been there yet. "How would you like to go right now?" he asked. "My old dog is ready, when the leaves start dropping he can't wait to get out there and flush some birds." I had to admit, the thought of pulling a bead on a speedy grouse sounded like a lot of fun. I'd hunted over Pete's English setter a number of times and just watching the dog work was a real treat. "Let me get out of this Scent Lock suit and grab some breakfast and I'll be over within and hour," I said. "That'll give me plenty of time to get everything ready," he replied. "I'll be waiting for you wen you get here." I grabbed a bowl of cereal and some fruit, dug out my trusty old 16-gauge shotgun, slipped on a pair of comfortable boots and headed out to meet my friend. When I pulled into his driveway he was in the front yard playing with Rocket. "He's pushing eight years old but he can still sniff out those birds," he said scratching the dogs head as it rubbed up against his leg. "Now let's get going and see if you can hit anything with that old gun... I'm assuming you brought that old sixteen pump. You always do." I nodded my head with a smile and went to the truck to grab my gear, then we were off. It took us nearly an hour to drive to the spot Pete had told me about. When we turned down an old range road, things began to look familiar. "You know something," I said. "I think I've hunted down here before. It was a long, long time ago, but I'm certain I've hunted here." "Did you get anything?"Pete asked. "I don't remember," I answered. "It was so long ago." Pete put the dog on a leash while we walked down an old tote road that lead the way to the grown up fields. Once we made our way into the first one, he clipped a small bell on Rockets collar and set him free. We watched as the dog darted in and out of the tall grasses along the edge of the field. He'd disappear into a thicket and we'd hear his bell ringing steadily. Then after a half-hour or so, we'd made our way into an area of grape vines, tall grasses and a trio of apple trees and the dog locked up. He stood there motionless staring under an apple tree. Pete motioned for me to come up on the right. I barely took three steps when the ground under the tree exploded with wing beats and two grouse shot into the air. I tried to get a bead on one as it twisted through the tree limbs, however, it was so fast, I never got off a shot. Pete started laughing. "You've got to be a heck of a lot quicker than that if you're gonna have partridge stew for supper," he said. "It isn't like drawing that bow on a whitetail deer you know." For what seemed like forever, my buddy joked with me about missing an opportunity to get my first grouse of the season. Then, the dog got on another one right in front of us. I watched as the bird exploded from the ground and hooked off to my left, right in front of my buddy. Pete shouldered his gun and with a loud "boom!" I watched as the bird tumbled to the ground. "That's how you do it," he said with a grin before admitting it was an easy shot. Nonetheless, he had just taken the first partridge of the season. Later that afternoon I had another chance. That time I swung on the bird and pulled the trigger, however, the bird kept going and as I expected, my buddy teased me about missing again. It was all in fun though. When we called it a day, I told Pete that I had a lot of fun watching the dog work and he promised to invite me along again. However, I had to promise to join him for a morning at the skeet range first! Pat Rollins writes on the outdoors for the Citizen. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. Copyright © 2008 Geo. J. Foster Company. Site Design: Internet Services: