It is peculiar how often we hound owners find ourselves doing something that the rest of the world sees as a lack of accomplishment. What am I talking about? Well, I will illustrate the point with a recent phone call.
“Hello?” I answered.
“What’s going on?” A friend, Mike, asked.
“I just picked up dogs and I am headed out of the field,” I turned off the narrow dirt road and onto the wider gravel road, using my cell phone on the speaker function, like I was talking into a CB radio.
“How did you do?” he asked me.
“Man, them dogs just kept running in circles!” I explained as I neared the hardtop road, and debated which way to turn, and which errand to run next.
“I’m sorry to hear that you spent your morning running around in circles,” Mike said.
“No way man,” I decided to turn right and get some more .410 shells before heading to the office, “Running in circles is a good thing. I got my limit of rabbits.”
My passion is rabbits with beagles, but unless a houndsman is pursuing certain game like coon or bear, which will tree, we are all looking for the dogs to keep running in circles. It is just that some critters run bigger circles than others. Where I live, it is not uncommon to get the dogs on what the old timers always called a blue belly rabbit. They are a little bit smaller, but actually tend to run bigger circles. When they get out to 400 yards I am always waiting to hear them turn back, hoping they are not on a deer. These little rabbits are found at higher elevation, within the Appalachian Mountains, and are actually a subspecies of cottontail known as the Appalachian cottontail, Sylvilagus obscurus in Latin. It just so happens that I live at a higher elevation in the middle of their range, and they are not that obscure in these parts.
Running in circles is one of the best things about the hunt, for me. I get to hear that beautiful hound music. I sometimes bump into a certain rabbit hunter that lives close to me, and we never hunt together. I suppose it is because we have a differing philosophy on the hunt. He has a beagle, and I am sure that it barks a little bit on rabbits, and it may even keep one moving for a while, but it is not a hound that can consistently circle a rabbit. That works out for this guy, because for the most part he is jump shooting rabbits as the rabbit is just beginning to run. When he hunts with his friends, he has them line up in a straight line, walking through the brush shoulder to shoulder, so that when the rabbit emerges, everyone can get a safe shot without shooting each other. It would seem that the safety of the dog is a distant concern to the opportunity to spend and all afternoon digging lead shot out of the hind quarters of the rabbits.
I remember being a little overzealous to shoot as a kid. When I was first old enough to hunt, I bought a shotgun with paper route money. Dad had to authorize the purchase. After vetoing a few choices, he approved a bolt action 20 gauge, made by Western Auto. Remember Western Auto? It was a used gun and cost me $60.
“Why this?” I asked. Well, maybe I was just downright complaining, now that I think about it.
“First of all,” he patted me on the shoulder, “It fits you. Secondly, you have three shots but you can’t shoot them too fast. I was going to make you get that single shot, but this will work too. It will teach you to be a more selective shooter.”
This line of thinking made almost no sense to my 12-year-old brain. Surely a pump gun would be better. Rabbits are fast, and I was certain that a faster rate of fire was just what I needed. I still remember my first successful rabbit hunt. I was waiting, and it squirted out of the goldenrod and ran past me, I turned and tumbled him with one shot.
“Congratulations!” Dad made a big fuss, “You got your first rabbit.” Soon the dogs were there too, to join in on the celebration. At the end of my first hunting season, while relaxing in the evening and getting ready to eat fried rabbit, dad asked, “Do you like listening to them hounds?”
“Oh yeah, that is one of my favorite things.”
“What happens if the rabbit passes and you fail to see it?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well,” he sipped his beer, “What happens when you miss?”
“I guess I just wait for another shot?” I scratched my head, wondering where he was headed with all this talk.”
“Exactly,” he slapped me on the back.
“Okay…” I sat confused.
“One more circle,” dad said, “That is what happens, one more circle. You’ve become a selective shot, and you do not miss all that much, because you have learned not to shoot too far with that bolt action. It reloads a bit slower. Next year, I want to see you go the next step and be selective not only in how far you shoot, but avoid those shots where the rabbit is close but has gone past you. Keep the shot out of the meat. One more circle isn’t bad.”
Dad rarely killed a rabbit until I got my limit. In other words, he didn’t shoot too often! When I turned 16 years old I was legally permitted to hunt by myself, and told my dad that I might like to upgrade my shotgun.
“Fancy autoloader?” he asked.
“I was thinking about a side by side.”
“Ah, he said, that is a wise choice. First barrel is more open, and you can put different loads in each barrel. More pattern in your right barrel, more punch in your left. If the rabbit is a little further, do not be afraid to start with the second barrel.” We made the trip to the same gun store and I got a double barrel 20 gauge. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it was my first double barrel. I have added a 16 gauge A.H. Fox to my collection, which I used for years, and I still do if I anticipate getting into pheasants. Then, a few years ago, I realized that in the early season, before the frost would knock down the high cover, there were plenty of hunts where I didn’t even see a rabbit. I could hear them hopping in front of me, but no shot was available. I bought a side by side .410 and I have not regretted it. I do well, and I just live by the motto of “one more circle” when the rabbit presents a shot that is too far for the .410 shotgun.
On the opening day of this year’s rabbit season, I went to a spot that is very thick, but often gives good chases. The only way to get a good shot is to stand in the mowed hayfield, and look for the rabbit as it briefly emerges from the brambles, and runs along the edge of the field for distances up to 50 yards or more, and then dives back into the thicket. I was fully prepared to shoot the rabbit, as it had been running for over 45 minutes and I had not seen it yet, because there are hayfields on either side of the dense cover, and I had setup on the wrong field. The bunny had been into the open grass on the opposite end of the brush a few times. All at once, I could hear the dogs coming my way. Suddenly, there was the rabbit, right at my feet, and it ran to my right. I mounted the shotgun and watched it run straight away, taking big bounding leaps along the border of the field and the briars, sometimes moving further away from the thick cover, zig zagging to attempt to fool the dogs or at least slow them down. I was running two hounds, a father and daughter duo, Duke and Diamond, the little girl being two years old and fully grown, but only 11 inches tall. “One more circle,” I said to myself, and walked all the way down the scent line that the rabbit had run, parallel to the brush, and set up to shoot pictures of my hounds running right at me. I got a great photo of a beam of morning sun right in front of the dogs, both hounds were in full cry and tonguing on the line. I then relocated at another location along the border of brush and field and stood statue still to wait for the rabbit. Twenty minutes later, a three inch .410 round delivered a load of # 4 shot and the bunny went into the game bag.
I got to thinking about how we never know how many circles there are. How many more solar circuits do we get? How many more circles around the sun, and how many more hunting seasons. I lost my dad to cancer when I was 19, and I still think about him when I run my beagles. I also think of other rabbit hunters who I have known that have gone on to the big briars in the sky. And the great hounds too. A long time ago I decided to not have regrets about things left undone. I have hunted swamp rabbits, mountain cottontails (found only in the Rocky Mountains), New England cottontails, Eastern cottontails, Appalachian cottontails, and varying hare. I ran a jackrabbit, but it didn’t circle. None of this would make sense to my dad, since we have plenty of rabbits right here, but we never know how many circles remain. So, I have given myself some advice for living: Give up cable for a year, and get the good gun. Give it up every year, and there is a good hunting trip to be had. Buy the pup. Let it in the house. Pack a lunch to work and save the money that will purchase clothes to hunt in any weather. Scratch the dang truck. Take the vacation. Take a kid hunting. Let the kid get all the shooting. Oh, and Let it run one more circle.
“Hello?” I answered.
“What’s going on?” A friend, Mike, asked.
“I just picked up dogs and I am headed out of the field,” I turned off the narrow dirt road and onto the wider gravel road, using my cell phone on the speaker function, like I was talking into a CB radio.
“How did you do?” he asked me.
“Man, them dogs just kept running in circles!” I explained as I neared the hardtop road, and debated which way to turn, and which errand to run next.
“I’m sorry to hear that you spent your morning running around in circles,” Mike said.
“No way man,” I decided to turn right and get some more .410 shells before heading to the office, “Running in circles is a good thing. I got my limit of rabbits.”
My passion is rabbits with beagles, but unless a houndsman is pursuing certain game like coon or bear, which will tree, we are all looking for the dogs to keep running in circles. It is just that some critters run bigger circles than others. Where I live, it is not uncommon to get the dogs on what the old timers always called a blue belly rabbit. They are a little bit smaller, but actually tend to run bigger circles. When they get out to 400 yards I am always waiting to hear them turn back, hoping they are not on a deer. These little rabbits are found at higher elevation, within the Appalachian Mountains, and are actually a subspecies of cottontail known as the Appalachian cottontail, Sylvilagus obscurus in Latin. It just so happens that I live at a higher elevation in the middle of their range, and they are not that obscure in these parts.
Running in circles is one of the best things about the hunt, for me. I get to hear that beautiful hound music. I sometimes bump into a certain rabbit hunter that lives close to me, and we never hunt together. I suppose it is because we have a differing philosophy on the hunt. He has a beagle, and I am sure that it barks a little bit on rabbits, and it may even keep one moving for a while, but it is not a hound that can consistently circle a rabbit. That works out for this guy, because for the most part he is jump shooting rabbits as the rabbit is just beginning to run. When he hunts with his friends, he has them line up in a straight line, walking through the brush shoulder to shoulder, so that when the rabbit emerges, everyone can get a safe shot without shooting each other. It would seem that the safety of the dog is a distant concern to the opportunity to spend and all afternoon digging lead shot out of the hind quarters of the rabbits.
I remember being a little overzealous to shoot as a kid. When I was first old enough to hunt, I bought a shotgun with paper route money. Dad had to authorize the purchase. After vetoing a few choices, he approved a bolt action 20 gauge, made by Western Auto. Remember Western Auto? It was a used gun and cost me $60.
“Why this?” I asked. Well, maybe I was just downright complaining, now that I think about it.
“First of all,” he patted me on the shoulder, “It fits you. Secondly, you have three shots but you can’t shoot them too fast. I was going to make you get that single shot, but this will work too. It will teach you to be a more selective shooter.”
This line of thinking made almost no sense to my 12-year-old brain. Surely a pump gun would be better. Rabbits are fast, and I was certain that a faster rate of fire was just what I needed. I still remember my first successful rabbit hunt. I was waiting, and it squirted out of the goldenrod and ran past me, I turned and tumbled him with one shot.
“Congratulations!” Dad made a big fuss, “You got your first rabbit.” Soon the dogs were there too, to join in on the celebration. At the end of my first hunting season, while relaxing in the evening and getting ready to eat fried rabbit, dad asked, “Do you like listening to them hounds?”
“Oh yeah, that is one of my favorite things.”
“What happens if the rabbit passes and you fail to see it?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well,” he sipped his beer, “What happens when you miss?”
“I guess I just wait for another shot?” I scratched my head, wondering where he was headed with all this talk.”
“Exactly,” he slapped me on the back.
“Okay…” I sat confused.
“One more circle,” dad said, “That is what happens, one more circle. You’ve become a selective shot, and you do not miss all that much, because you have learned not to shoot too far with that bolt action. It reloads a bit slower. Next year, I want to see you go the next step and be selective not only in how far you shoot, but avoid those shots where the rabbit is close but has gone past you. Keep the shot out of the meat. One more circle isn’t bad.”
Dad rarely killed a rabbit until I got my limit. In other words, he didn’t shoot too often! When I turned 16 years old I was legally permitted to hunt by myself, and told my dad that I might like to upgrade my shotgun.
“Fancy autoloader?” he asked.
“I was thinking about a side by side.”
“Ah, he said, that is a wise choice. First barrel is more open, and you can put different loads in each barrel. More pattern in your right barrel, more punch in your left. If the rabbit is a little further, do not be afraid to start with the second barrel.” We made the trip to the same gun store and I got a double barrel 20 gauge. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it was my first double barrel. I have added a 16 gauge A.H. Fox to my collection, which I used for years, and I still do if I anticipate getting into pheasants. Then, a few years ago, I realized that in the early season, before the frost would knock down the high cover, there were plenty of hunts where I didn’t even see a rabbit. I could hear them hopping in front of me, but no shot was available. I bought a side by side .410 and I have not regretted it. I do well, and I just live by the motto of “one more circle” when the rabbit presents a shot that is too far for the .410 shotgun.
On the opening day of this year’s rabbit season, I went to a spot that is very thick, but often gives good chases. The only way to get a good shot is to stand in the mowed hayfield, and look for the rabbit as it briefly emerges from the brambles, and runs along the edge of the field for distances up to 50 yards or more, and then dives back into the thicket. I was fully prepared to shoot the rabbit, as it had been running for over 45 minutes and I had not seen it yet, because there are hayfields on either side of the dense cover, and I had setup on the wrong field. The bunny had been into the open grass on the opposite end of the brush a few times. All at once, I could hear the dogs coming my way. Suddenly, there was the rabbit, right at my feet, and it ran to my right. I mounted the shotgun and watched it run straight away, taking big bounding leaps along the border of the field and the briars, sometimes moving further away from the thick cover, zig zagging to attempt to fool the dogs or at least slow them down. I was running two hounds, a father and daughter duo, Duke and Diamond, the little girl being two years old and fully grown, but only 11 inches tall. “One more circle,” I said to myself, and walked all the way down the scent line that the rabbit had run, parallel to the brush, and set up to shoot pictures of my hounds running right at me. I got a great photo of a beam of morning sun right in front of the dogs, both hounds were in full cry and tonguing on the line. I then relocated at another location along the border of brush and field and stood statue still to wait for the rabbit. Twenty minutes later, a three inch .410 round delivered a load of # 4 shot and the bunny went into the game bag.
I got to thinking about how we never know how many circles there are. How many more solar circuits do we get? How many more circles around the sun, and how many more hunting seasons. I lost my dad to cancer when I was 19, and I still think about him when I run my beagles. I also think of other rabbit hunters who I have known that have gone on to the big briars in the sky. And the great hounds too. A long time ago I decided to not have regrets about things left undone. I have hunted swamp rabbits, mountain cottontails (found only in the Rocky Mountains), New England cottontails, Eastern cottontails, Appalachian cottontails, and varying hare. I ran a jackrabbit, but it didn’t circle. None of this would make sense to my dad, since we have plenty of rabbits right here, but we never know how many circles remain. So, I have given myself some advice for living: Give up cable for a year, and get the good gun. Give it up every year, and there is a good hunting trip to be had. Buy the pup. Let it in the house. Pack a lunch to work and save the money that will purchase clothes to hunt in any weather. Scratch the dang truck. Take the vacation. Take a kid hunting. Let the kid get all the shooting. Oh, and Let it run one more circle.
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