OnStand : The Sportsman's Watchdog

If you properly respect what you are after, and shoot it cleanly and on the animal’s terrain, if you imprison in your mind all the wonder of the day from sky to smell to breeze to flowers—then you have not merely killed an animal. You have lent immortality to a beast you have killed because you loved him and wanted him forever so that you could always capture the day.

—Robert Ruark, The Old Man and the Boy

Chapter Four: 1941

Today at noon Heinz and Grant loaded us all up in the back of Grant’s old pickup. I think they called it a stupidbaker, or something like that, and now we are roaring out of town. Well, roaring might be too strong a word. Clattering is probably closer.

I’m thrilled to be outside for the first time. I can’t get over all the things there are to see. What an experience. Now that we are out of town and into the country, it is just incredible. All the trees have beautiful leaves, massive Oak trees with red and gold leaves, and the sky is so blue, and there are birds on the wires and in the trees. All of the pastures have cattle grazing in them and the farms all seem to have white houses and red barns. It is just quite a sight to see. Now I understand why Heinz and Grant were so excited about getting out of town.

We’ve turned off the main road and the last couple of miles of the trip have been over a very rough trail. I just took a big bounce and got a couple of paint chips. I‘m next to Gert and I’m rubbing up against her pretty good, so it isn’t all bad. The chips are a small price to pay. You might even say it is worth the chips. Har de Har Har.

Anyway, they’ve parked the pickup close to the river and Heinz and Grant just got out and are standing there watching the sky.

They loaded all of us into the jon boat, and waded into the river, towing the boat out to a sandbar in the middle. There was a big pile of brush on the sandbar and Grant walked over to it, stuck his hand between two branches, and pulled open a door! He disappeared inside and now the top of the brush pile, which is covered with grass, is lifting up and Grant is sticking his head out.

“Hand them to me through the top,” Grant said, “and I’ll stack them inside.”

Heinz is handing all of us in to Grant. “Why don’t you put Gustav on top,” he said.

Good Lord! I thought I was confused before but I can’t figure out at all what they are talking about or what the heck is going on. How get can you confused???

Grant put me on top of the pile, closed the lid and shut the door as he went out. I can’t see a thing but I can still hear them talking and are they ever excited. “There’s another flock, Heinz. And another,” Grant said. “Oh, tomorrow is gonna’ be a great day. I can feel it in my bones. The birds really came in on that front last night. If we can just get some weather in the morning! I can hardly wait, good grief, there’s another flock. Come on tomorrow!” He ran on like that for ten minutes, non stop.

Then, without a ‘bye your leave’, ‘kiss my ass’, or a ‘see ya in the morning’, they left.

They just left.

I really think it is some kind of joke or something. But evidently they did leave. And now I’m cold. I’m uncomfortable, I don’t have a clue what the hell is going on, and I want out of here.

OK, Heinz, the joke is over, you can take me home now. Come on Heinz, it’s cold and dark out here. This is, excuse me, total bullshit.

He hasn’t answered me, of course, and I haven’t heard anything for a long time. This is not the kind of treatment I expected. No Sir! Not at all.

Goodness, what was that? Something just ran under my belly, and it felt creepy. There he is on Willum’s back. He’s a furry little critter. There was one just like him in the shop one day. Ol’ Buck made short work of him. Hm. He squeaks. And he’s trying to get into that box they left in the corner. He’ll have to work a long time to gnaw through that. Where’s ol’ Buck when he could do some good instead of just laying around by the stove, or drooling all over me.

The hours sure do drag when you’re laying around in the dark and can’t close your eyes. I must sleep with my eyes open, ‘cuz I sure do dream a lot. ‘Specially about Gertie. I wonder why?

I thought a lot last night about the conversation Heinz and Grant had after they put us in this, uh, blind, whatever that is. I think today I’m finally going to learn about my purpose in life. It seems everyone has one so I must have one too.

I just heard something. Sounds like that Stupidbaker pickup. “Clacketa, clacketa, clacketa.” Yep, it’s the pickup. That exhaust sounds like a popcorn fart. At least that’s the way Grant describes it. Hell, I don’t know, I’ve never farted.

Heinz is really in a great mood, this being the middle of the night and all. “Good morning, fellows, everybody ready?” he practically sang. Morning? What’s he talking about, it’s still dark out there.

I wonder where we are going today? We must be going somewhere as they are taking us all out of the blind and loading us back up in that jon boat. The guys have funny looking boots on that go all the way up to their chests and they are dressed in brown coats, and brown hats.

Heinz! How come you’re carrying me out into the water? Whoa! What the hell are you doing? Why on earth did you drop me into the water?

I’d better straighten up, or I’ll get my head wet. I’m drifting away, whoops! I must have hit the end of that cord as I just stopped and flipped around. Now I know what that weight is for. And I can move from side to side. OOPS! Careful, you’ll tip again. Ahh! It’s kind of cold on my bottom but it’s so much fun, who cares?

Hey! There’s Gert! Hey Gert, how about a dip? Man, I sure wish you would talk. OOPS. Sorry Peter. I didn’t mean to bump into you. Why doesn’t Heinz back you up a little? Hey Heinz! There, that’s better. Now we can move around a little without bumping into each other.

This “life’s purpose” thing better happen real soon. Here we are swimming around in the dark. In a cold river. Tied to a cord. It’s real and it’s fun, but it ain’t real fun. It was a lot warmer in the blind.

And even better in the shop.

Where’d those guys on the sandbar come from? Boy are they skinny little bastards. They look like us, but they got no fullness. No width. Probably no depth, either. Hm? They just sit over there on the sandbar with that stick up their rears and never move. That must be boring as hell. Guess I’ll quit complaining.

Buck is running all over the place—from one end of the sandbar to the other. Here he comes out into the water, sniffing each of us. Hey, Buck, you’re stepping on my cord and “splfft” tipping me over face first. “Splfft!” C’mon Buck, move it! That water is wet! And cold! Somebody better have a talk with that dog. He has pretty poor manners if you ask me.

Now where the heck did Grant and Heinz go? Oh!. I get it! They put us out here and then they go inside the blind and they’ve got it all covered up with the grass top. Seems to me they are hiding. But why in the heck would they be hiding. They must be up to something in there. I can hear them talking but I can’t figure out what they are saying. Something about cookin’ a bunch in. Bangin’ stuff together and making all kinds of racket. And they have a stove going. I can see a glimmer of light through the brush once in a while.

Speaking of glimmers of light, that must be east over there. The horizon is just starting to show up and it’s looking a little bit pink. I can tell a difference each time I look. It slowly gets a little brighter and a whole lot prettier. It’s almost orange now. I can hear a few blackbirds starting to screech and squawk over in those reeds, and just a few minutes ago I heard some wing sounds and some quacking way up above us. Heinz heard it too. “Grant,” he says, “didja hear that, huh, didja? A bunch of greenheads just passed over. I could hear der vings whistlin’ and dey vas talking’. Oh I tink ve hit a great opening day.” When Heinz gets excited he talks kind of funny.