Pennsylvania Game News - March 2010 - 30

to be on our farm. I began dressing that morning, first with Dad’s long johns, then wool socks over which I placed two plastic bread wrappers on each foot, and then my coveralls. Next came leather work boots, and over them 5-buckle rubber boots. Finally, topping off my hunting outfit, I wore two wool sweaters and Pap’s barn coat. Mom had sewn a piece of red cloth to the back of it for safety (fluorescent orange wasn’t required then). My wool gloves were a gift from Christmas the year before and my hat — a WWII wool Navy watch cap — a hand-me-down from my uncle Charlie. I had inherited a Marlin .30-30 lever action rifle from Uncle Bob, who had to quit hunting because of age. So, I was as set as a young man could have been as I started my walk toward the hollow below our barn where I wanted to hunt that morning. I still shudder when I remember how the icy wind seemed to cut through everything I was wearing that morning. And, to make matters worse, as I neared the barn, sleet began to fall. I know at 16 we’re supposed to be full of vim and vigor, but don’t think for a moment I didn’t consider hunting out of the barn. The only thing that stopped me was the strapping I would have gotten if the hay in the loft had gotten wet because of the window being open, and also the fact that the window only overlooked the pasture and the deer usually didn’t move into that area until later in the day. As I was about to pass the barn, our draft horse, Ruby, neighed, causing the “light bulb” above my head to go on. It’s the first day of deer season and she’s in the barn for the day. My mind shot into high gear. She has a heavy wool blanket, and she’s not going to be using it. So why not? Walking up the hill to the thickets above the hollow that morning, with Ruby’s thick, wool ice-covered blanket wrapped around me, was a bit of a chore, even for a youngster. When I arrived at my spot I shook the ice from it, wrapped it back around me, sat on a stump and then leaned back against a tree where I could overlook the hollow. As the blanket began to heat up I could smell the heady aroma of horse sweat, and to a farm kid it was a warm comforting sensation. I had never heard about scent control back then, but if I had, I would have known that the odor emanating from that blanket was covering my scent and it was a scent the deer on our farm would never perceive as a threat. As it began to get light, the sleet turned to fluffy big flakes of snow. I was now warm and comfortable inside Ruby’s blanket and, like most youngsters, I began to daydream while soaking up all that was around me. A cardinal landed on a snow-covered white pine branch nearby, reminding me of a Christmas card I had once seen. I also discovered that if I listened real close I could actually hear snowflakes falling. I was so engrossed in the new wonder I had discovered that if a strange little sound hadn’t caught my attention, I may have completely missed a doe and her two fawns passing by in the hollow below me. The slight click I had heard was most likely one of them stepping on a small rock. After the sound alerted me to their presence there was total silence, it was as if they merely glided over the snow and into a stand of white pines to my left. Not once did they appear wary or nervous. I guess if one of them had looked my way or tested the air, all it would have seen or smelled was a snow-covered horse at the top of the hill. Another hour passed without me seeing any other movement, but then I heard brush snapping at the bottom of the hollow on my right. Before long I saw a bobbing red hat and someone I didn’t recognize dressed in a red and black plaid Woolrich outfit following the trail the does GAME NEWS

Pennsylvania Game News - March 2010

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Pennsylvania Game News - March 2010