|
|
|
It was the last week of deer rifle season in 2008, and Joyce had harvested a nice young buck that morning from the very spot where I sat. It was cold and blustery and I had myself wedged into a stack of round hay bales overlooking a stubble field that was bordered by a wooded meadow behind. Movement to my side caught my eye; the farmer had pulled up in a pickup and proceeded to stride across the middle of the field checking electric fence.
So much for my morning hunt! That happened to me three times during that last week of deer season in 2008. No matter where on the property I chose to sit, the farmer showed up at that very spot, checking fence, fixing fence and who-knows-what.
Fast forward to last Saturday evening, January 23rd, 2010. A couple local cattlemen have been asking me to come thin out a few coyotes as their cows were starting to calve and they don’t want quite so many of the opportunistic buggers hanging around. One guy had even lost a calf to coyotes last year, and the wind was right to call on the backside of his property, so I took my new electronic caller to give it a whirl.
I sat against a tree on the property line between his place and his neighbors. The neighbor has a small hobby farm of a few acres and their field behind me was grass mingled with small cedars. The neighbor’s house was about a hundred and fifty yards away from where I sat, and I suppose I should have stopped and told them what I was up to, but it was chilly enough I figured they would be inside. The field I faced was new wheat bordered on the far side by a pasture with lots of trees and brush, and I knew coyotes move through there regularly. In front of me was a deep draw in the wheat that ran diagonally across the field behind and away from me clear to the road. I placed the caller on the other side of that draw, about 40 yards out into the wheat, got comfortable and started calling. I played a howl for a few minutes then went to a squealing jack rabbit sound. The jack rabbit had played for several minutes when out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement beside me.
I slowly turned to look and there not 20 feet behind me stood the neighbors wife, arms crossed, intently scanning the wheat field for the source of what she later called “that horrible sound.” At that moment I was pretty sure the farmer from deer season last year had followed me here in someone else’s body. My feelings at the moment were somewhere between mad as heck and rolling on the ground laughing. I was fully dressed in camouflage and blended in pretty well because until she noticed me staring at her she had no Idea I was even there. I’d have been quite happy if she had just walked away, but as the caller continued to squeal, she started a conversation that went something like this: (she) I told my husband there was a horrible noise out her and came to see what it was. What is that anyway? (Me) it’s a coyote call. (She) oh, so you’re making that sound? (Me) yes. (She) well I feel better now knowing what it is. Then as she started to walk away, she asked “You ever see any bobcats here?” (Me) yes. (She) where? (Me) over there, as I pointed across the field. With that, she seemed satisfied and walked away.
Now certainly no self-respecting coyote would allow itself to be called-in after all that, but I was comfortable and it was a nice evening, so I stayed put. I let the jack rabbit squeal a little longer, then switched to a coyote pup distress call that I figured I’d try for 5 minutes before hanging it up for the evening.
A few minutes later I again caught movement out of the corner of my eye, this time to my left across the field; a coyote was loping up the draw from behind me. Just before it was due to get wind of me, I stopped it with a loud bark and harvested it where it stood.
Few things surprise me anymore, especially things in the outdoors, but that coyote’s appearance after all the commotion rather floored me. I didn’t watch to see if that lady walked to their house, I just saw her walk away and the next time I looked she was gone, so I guess it still could have been the farmer from last deer season there to haunt me; if so, this time I won! Coyotes are amazing animals with unbelievably keen senses, so I feel blessed just to have the opportunity to fool one once-in-a-while as I Explore Kansas Outdoors.
Steve can be contacted by email at stevegilliland@idkcom.net
It was the last week of deer rifle season in 2008, and Joyce had harvested a nice young buck that morning from the very spot where I sat. It was cold and blustery and I had myself wedged into a stack of round hay bales overlooking a stubble field that was bordered by a wooded meadow behind. Movement to my side caught my eye; the farmer had pulled up in a pickup and proceeded to stride across the middle of the field checking electric fence.
So much for my morning hunt! That happened to me three times during that last week of deer season in 2008. No matter where on the property I chose to sit, the farmer showed up at that very spot, checking fence, fixing fence and who-knows-what.
Fast forward to last Saturday evening, January 23rd, 2010. A couple local cattlemen have been asking me to come thin out a few coyotes as their cows were starting to calve and they don’t want quite so many of the opportunistic buggers hanging around. One guy had even lost a calf to coyotes last year, and the wind was right to call on the backside of his property, so I took my new electronic caller to give it a whirl.
I sat against a tree on the property line between his place and his neighbors. The neighbor has a small hobby farm of a few acres and their field behind me was grass mingled with small cedars. The neighbor’s house was about a hundred and fifty yards away from where I sat, and I suppose I should have stopped and told them what I was up to, but it was chilly enough I figured they would be inside. The field I faced was new wheat bordered on the far side by a pasture with lots of trees and brush, and I knew coyotes move through there regularly. In front of me was a deep draw in the wheat that ran diagonally across the field behind and away from me clear to the road. I placed the caller on the other side of that draw, about 40 yards out into the wheat, got comfortable and started calling. I played a howl for a few minutes then went to a squealing jack rabbit sound. The jack rabbit had played for several minutes when out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement beside me.
I slowly turned to look and there not 20 feet behind me stood the neighbors wife, arms crossed, intently scanning the wheat field for the source of what she later called “that horrible sound.” At that moment I was pretty sure the farmer from deer season last year had followed me here in someone else’s body. My feelings at the moment were somewhere between mad as heck and rolling on the ground laughing. I was fully dressed in camouflage and blended in pretty well because until she noticed me staring at her she had no Idea I was even there. I’d have been quite happy if she had just walked away, but as the caller continued to squeal, she started a conversation that went something like this: (she) I told my husband there was a horrible noise out her and came to see what it was. What is that anyway? (Me) it’s a coyote call. (She) oh, so you’re making that sound? (Me) yes. (She) well I feel better now knowing what it is. Then as she started to walk away, she asked “You ever see any bobcats here?” (Me) yes. (She) where? (Me) over there, as I pointed across the field. With that, she seemed satisfied and walked away.
Now certainly no self-respecting coyote would allow itself to be called-in after all that, but I was comfortable and it was a nice evening, so I stayed put. I let the jack rabbit squeal a little longer, then switched to a coyote pup distress call that I figured I’d try for 5 minutes before hanging it up for the evening.
A few minutes later I again caught movement out of the corner of my eye, this time to my left across the field; a coyote was loping up the draw from behind me. Just before it was due to get wind of me, I stopped it with a loud bark and harvested it where it stood.
Few things surprise me anymore, especially things in the outdoors, but that coyote’s appearance after all the commotion rather floored me. I didn’t watch to see if that lady walked to their house, I just saw her walk away and the next time I looked she was gone, so I guess it still could have been the farmer from last deer season there to haunt me; if so, this time I won! Coyotes are amazing animals with unbelievably keen senses, so I feel blessed just to have the opportunity to fool one once-in-a-while as I Explore Kansas Outdoors.
Steve can be contacted by email at stevegilliland@idkcom.net
