Pennsylvania Game News - August 2012 - 32

fun to be around. Paul was not what you’d call a crack shot and took a lot of ribbin’ from the boys. The hunting party headed for the old grown up horse pasture. When they got there, the boys spread out to kick the brush while Bill stayed on the well-worn trail around the fence. And true to form, it wasn’t long before the beagles, Prince and Belle, jumped the first cottontail of the day. Hot on the rabbit’s trail, Belle, yipping as the ripe scent stung her nostrils, took the rabbit on a full circle without anyone getting off a shot. The second time around, the rabbit made a wider swing, going in and out of the thickest cover it could find. The rabbit popped out on the trail 10 feet in front of Bill. Raising his revolver ever so slowly, he took a bead on the cottontail’s head. With a sharp crack of the shot, rabbit number one rolled to a stop. “Got it,” Bill yelled to the others. He quickly field-dressed the rabbit and slid it in his pouch. By this time Mark had jumped another rabbit, from under an old cart that was in the weeds. Paul brought the beagles around to pick up the scent. Prince was on the hot trail instantly, adding his deep throated bawling to Belle’s yip. This bunny didn’t go far till it holed up. It was hard to call the dogs off and Ronnie had to leash them up to get them away from the old groundhog hole. The blackberry brambles and wild rose made for tough going. Jim, being the youngest, was relegated to go through the toughest places, and it wasn’t long before his face and hands
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looked like he had been wrestling a wildcat, all scratched and bleeding. He kicked out the next rabbit, almost stepping on it. The brush was too thick to even get the gun up, let alone get a shot off. This rabbit tore off and scrambled under a huge brushpile. The dogs tried to find a way in, circling the pile, but not gaining access. Mark and Ronnie both climbed on top of the brush. After a lot of jumping and kicking, the rabbit finally squirted out, running right over Paul’s foot in the process. Belle was almost on top of the rabbit as it circled, her excited yipping igniting Bill’s blood. He had never moved from where he shot the first rabbit, and it seemed as if the dogs were heading right for him again. Once again the rabbit popped onto the trail a scant 15 feet away. Bill pulled off a hurried shot as the dogs were closing in fast. The rabbit rolled to a stop. Slitting the rabbit’s belly, Bill quickly field-dressed it before sliding it into his game pouch. Despite the cool temperatures, the boys were sweating under their heavy canvas coats. Their faces were all stung from swatting branches and fighting their way through the brambles. Mark was getting a little perturbed at his dad. Mark yelled to him, “If you want to hunt, why don’t you get down here in the brush with us?” Bill retorted back, “I seem to be doing okay from right here!” “Let the old man be,” Ronnie said, as he kicked an old pile of boards that lay rotting and decaying. A huge rabbit flew out past Paul. He got off a hurried shot with his short-barreled .410, but that only caused the rabbit to spurt on even faster. Paul yelled, “That’s no blue belly, Bill; it’s
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Pennsylvania Game News - August 2012

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