A Jam Up Hunt
Jeff Davis | https://gundogcentral.com
It was going to be a good day. You could feel it. My son Steven and I were hunting for woodies on our favorite beaver pond. As we put our canoe in the water the temperature hovered around freezing as a light rain begin to drizzle on us. Perfect conditions for ducks!
I put Steve out behind a big gum tree right in the middle of the pond, while I took cover under a wax myrtle on the edge. We both waited in silence, only the slight patter of droplets falling. That moment just before sunrise is a special time to be outdoors.
Right at legal shooting time, as if on cue, the ducks begin to come in. They seemed to settle all around Steve, from where I stood they appeared to be sitting in his lap. But I didn’t hear him shoot. I thought that maybe he was waiting for still more to come before opening fire. More ducks did come. Still no shot.
Suddenly I heard a loud yell from Steve “My dang gun won’t shoot!” there ensued much shucking of shells and more fussing. The ducks didn’t much care for all this commotion and decided to find a more peaceful location. Steve hollered out “Dad, bring me your gun!”
I had a shot at the ducks as they scattered, which I missed due in no small part to the fact that I was laughing so hard. I paddled out to give him my 20 gauge and it was then that I discovered that in all the excitement I had dropped all my ammo somewhere into the black water below. This left the one remaining shell in my gun, which I handed over to my very agitated partner.
As I moved the canoe out of his way, I was still laughing at the whole scene. Steve didn’t share my feeling and said he didn’t see anything funny about it. He just wanted me to get still so he could have at least that one chance at a shot.
Well, he got it. A woody came right in and he cleanly missed a 20 yard opportunity. We spent the remainder of the morning watching woodies come and go. For myself it was an unforgettable memory which goes to show it’s not all about killing every time. It was glorious day of enjoying nature with my favorite hunting companion.
Steve still doesn’t think it was funny.
I put Steve out behind a big gum tree right in the middle of the pond, while I took cover under a wax myrtle on the edge. We both waited in silence, only the slight patter of droplets falling. That moment just before sunrise is a special time to be outdoors.
Right at legal shooting time, as if on cue, the ducks begin to come in. They seemed to settle all around Steve, from where I stood they appeared to be sitting in his lap. But I didn’t hear him shoot. I thought that maybe he was waiting for still more to come before opening fire. More ducks did come. Still no shot.
Suddenly I heard a loud yell from Steve “My dang gun won’t shoot!” there ensued much shucking of shells and more fussing. The ducks didn’t much care for all this commotion and decided to find a more peaceful location. Steve hollered out “Dad, bring me your gun!”
I had a shot at the ducks as they scattered, which I missed due in no small part to the fact that I was laughing so hard. I paddled out to give him my 20 gauge and it was then that I discovered that in all the excitement I had dropped all my ammo somewhere into the black water below. This left the one remaining shell in my gun, which I handed over to my very agitated partner.
As I moved the canoe out of his way, I was still laughing at the whole scene. Steve didn’t share my feeling and said he didn’t see anything funny about it. He just wanted me to get still so he could have at least that one chance at a shot.
Well, he got it. A woody came right in and he cleanly missed a 20 yard opportunity. We spent the remainder of the morning watching woodies come and go. For myself it was an unforgettable memory which goes to show it’s not all about killing every time. It was glorious day of enjoying nature with my favorite hunting companion.
Steve still doesn’t think it was funny.
About the Author : Jim Edmundson
Visit authors website | View more articlesJim Edmundson is an avid outdoorsman and hunter. He spent over 30 years training bird dogs and horses, competing in field trials from the prairies to the southern plantations. He currently lives on the family farm in eastern North Carolina where he enjoys hunting with his son and friends.