The forecast was for afternoon showers, but thinking it won’t rain on us. We hit State Game Lands at about three and covered a few fields with my Weimaraner Hunter and found nothing. Working our way down the side of a hill around a hedge row we got our first point. The bird broke in front of my friend Sam and he emptied his Remington Premier and on the third shot the bird fell. Hunter retrieved the first cock bird. I’m always happy when my friends get a bird, I have to admit I really want to shoot a bird today, but hey I won’t have to clean the gun. Then I notice dark black clouds moving in from the west, well maybe it with go north and we’ll be on the edge of the storm.
Sweep the next field we come up empty, stopping at the edge of the wood with the wind kicking up in our face. I couldn’t help noticing hunter with his head held high and his nose in air. When you hunt with a dog long enough you know when he’s on a scent, and he took off into the woods. The woods is way to thick for man, only deer runs and if you don’t like to crawl through the pickers on you hands and knees it’s not much fun. Hunter ran the woods long enough for Big Sam to head up the hill. I blew my whistle and called the dog out; he was still pretty birdie, and ran back to the corner of the field we had already pushed. Just then a Cock Bird exploded into flight to my hard left! Throwing up my Sterlingworth pushing the safety forward I though I was ready to shoot. Trying get my finger on the front trigger my finger hit the side of the front trigger making me unable to shoot the first barrel modified chock with a 7 ½ load. Now the bird was getting the jump on me and getting farther out. Knowing I had a number 4 in second barrel and a full chock it was time to shoot. Pulled the trigger the Cock bird crippled up in mid flight and dropped like a stone, it was a dead on shot, and an easy retrieve. Hunter must have pushed the running bird out of the woods back into field.
We headed back to the truck so Hunter could get a drink, it’s always important to take care of our best friend because he’s really doing all the work. Strange my dog would rather drink from a mud puddle than the fresh water we bring. Hunter likes to drink from the jug as I pour. I think he gets that from watching Sam drink beer they both prefer the bottle.
We hit the field behind the parking lot for some reason the birds like to fly there after they have been pushed hard. The field is an L shape and when we turned the corner Hunt put up another Cock Bird flying left and low toward the woods. This time everything worked to perfection, pushed the safety forward, found the trigger and hit him with a 7 ½ and dropped him on the edge of the woods. Now I was really happy two Cock Birds in the bag on two shots. My old Sterlingworth did exactly what it was designed to do just 72 years later.
We headed to the next corn field to push, only looking up when a Pheasant took to flight. In the middle of the field I happened to notice the sky was completely covered with really dark, black clouds, thunder clouds. We finished the corn and headed to the parking lot; only to hear Sam say here it comes. To late we were in a hard cold rain, which I swear had snow and hail in it. By the time we made it back to the truck we were soaked, cold, and wet. It really didn’t matter, had my limit, two birds, two shots, what a great day.
Great gun, great yarn, and great pic.