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 8

“What have we got here? That’s a nice decoy,” The Big Guy in the waders said as he picked me up. “Somebody knew what they were doing when they carved this one.” He turned and tipped me every which way, then said, “No cord left. He must have come untied. Mike, grab some decoy cord and that extra weight out of the blind. We might as well put this fine fellow to work.”

Mike, is a younger and smaller version of the Big Guy. He came running with the cord and an anchor. “Gosh, Dad, he’s a nice decoy,” he said. “Somebody must have put a lot of work into him. Kind of makes ours look shabby, doesn’t he?”

The Big Guy just smiled and tied the cord to my hook. “You know son, the geese probably don’t see that much difference, but I’m sure glad you noticed. Why don’t you wade out up at the head of the spread and put this one out in front, right up by the sandbar.” He smiled as he watched his son and Fifty move up the sandbar. Mike is wearing knee boots so he won’t get in too deep and get in trouble.

“Splash!” he pitched me out a couple of feet to get me to the right spot. That got my beak a little wet, but at least it isn’t bitter cold. By golly I think I stopped at the right place. The Big Guy and his son sure seem like nice guys. I hope they’re good hunters.

“Heronk! Heronk!” That’s the real thing. Head for the blind kid and take that big black dog with you. Look at those two cut a trail. He’s got the door open and that dog piled in without any hesitation. Mike just tripped up on his big ol’ boots, but he’s up and in now.

“Heronk! Heronk!” Oh, Man, they’re coming right straight in without a swing. I hope those guys are ready. Uh, somebody should have been shooting by now. I wonder why they didn’t shoot them when they were hanging over the decoys. Now they’ve landed right in the “hole” in the spread. We’ll find out what kind of hunters these guys are now.

Are they Goose Hunters, or people who shoot geese. Big difference. Real Goose Hunters take their sport very seriously. They’re the guys who are setting their decoys in the dark and who have blinds camoflauged to perfection. They’re usually good shots and they have a retriever along so that they seldom lose a bird. Ol’ Heinz and Grant would never shoot on the sit, I sure hope these guys don’t either.

Ouch! Hey! Go peck somebody with feathers. That hurts! My, he is a big one.

He’s getting a little nervous, and he should be. I can hear Mike whispering to the Big Guy from here. If I can hear him, I know these geese can too. Now Fifty is whining. The guys are coming up, “Hey! Hey Geese! Get up!” Mike is hollering at them. They don’t need to hear that a second time. They’re following that order to the letter. Up they go.

KA-BOOM!

SPLASH!

“All Right, Mike! Great shot!”

The Big Guy sounds like a fog horn. Is he ever excited. “Son, you just killed your first Canada Goose, and is he ever a dandy! I’ll bet he’ll weigh over twelve pounds! He is huge! Great shooting son.!”

“Dad!,” Mike is asking the Big Guy. “Why didn’t you shoot? There were five others. We could’a had our limit. Did your gun misfire? Boy, look at Fifty run down that bank. There she goes in after him. All right Fifty, fetch him up girl! Good dog. Didja see him fall Dad? He just folded. Oh, Man, my first goose. Me and my single shot. But, Dad, why didn’t you shoot?” Mike said all of that in about three seconds.

The Big Guy is just standing there beaming like a lighthouse light on a new moon night, and watching the dog fetch the goose. “Mike,” he said, “slow down a little. I didn’t shoot because I wanted to watch you shoot. That was a lot more fun than shooting one myself. You know I’ve killed lots of geese but a man only gets one chance to watch his son kill his first goose. And this was it. I’m plumb proud son! I was sure glad to see you spook them up before you shot.” And with that the Big Guy scooped Mike up in a big bear hug, then set him down and asked, “By the way, what took you so long to get them up?”

“Dad,” Mike answered, ” I was so excited watching them swimming around in the decoys, and I was waiting for you to tell me what to do. And then when I whispered to you and Fifty started whining, I decided that if you weren’t going to do anything, I was.” Mike said, as though he was questioning himself as to whether or not he’d done the right thing.

“Son, I really dropped the ball when they came in. I really thought they were going to swing one more time and then you would have had the perfect shot. That lead goose was looking out towards the channel and all of a sudden he changed his mind, and ‘plop’, they sat in. I was just getting ready to tell you to jump them, when you went ahead and did it on your own. Son, you handled it perfectly.

“This is one goose that both of us will remember forever. Thirty years from now, when you’re hunting with your kids, everything about this morning will be as clear to you as it is right now. Here comes Fifty with your first goose. Be sure and praise her for that great retrieve.”

“Good girl Fifty. Good dog!” Mike is hugging the big black lab. And now he’s hugging the goose. And now Mike is doing something a little unusual. He has laid that goose down on some loose hay by the blind, and sat beside him, stroking his neck feathers. He’s real quiet just looking at that goose, with his Dad looking at both of them, and Mike said. “Thanks Mr. Goose.”

That was something. What a great scene to watch. What a great day. I think this place is gonna be a really special place for me to stay.

“Dad, I think we better get in the blind. That new decoy has brought us some good luck, I just heard a honk from up the river. Didn’t you hear it? Mike asked, grinning at his Dad.

“No Mike, and you better not be pulling one of your little tricks. I can still hear just fine, and…oops, your right! I just heard them too. Get Fifty in and pull the door shut behind you. All right! They sound like they just passed that big bend. They should be on us in a minute. Stay down. Yep, they’re right out to the left over the far bank. I’ll give ‘em a couple of toots and I think they’ll turn. Heronk! Heronk!” he hit the call.

“Look Dad, they’re turning. I think they’re ours.” Mike whispered a little too loudly. “Sh. Mike. They’re gonna swing again. They’re still just a little too far.” Whispered the Big Guy.

“Heronk! Heronk.” he hit the call again.

“All right Mike, they’re coming back. Get ready. Steady, steady, let their feet drop. Okaaaaay, Take ‘em!!! ”

KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!

SPLASH

“All right son! We each got one. Fine shootin’! Good job, Mike!” The Big Guy’s voice is blaring again.

“I don’t know, Dad. I think I shot the same one you did. He looked like he folded just as I pulled the trigger.” Mike sounds like he’s apologizing again.

“I’m not sure son, but if you did it’s my fault. That front goose was yours all the way. I should have been shooting further back in the flock, just like I told you we were supposed to do. You remember, you take left, I take right. You take front, I take back. Looks like your ol’ Dad kind of blew it on that bunch. I guess I got a little excited. We’ll just call that one a double. It happens.” The Big Guy apologized to Mike.

“Look at ol’ Fifty charge down that bank. There she goes right off the high spot. She must have landed fifteen feet out in the water. What a dog. She got that far bird first and she’s using her chest to push the next one in closer as she brings that first one in. Isn’t that something to watch? She’s just the finest dog we’ve ever had.”

“That gives us a goose and a half apiece. You ready to head home and brag to your Ma? I think your Grampa and Gramma are probably there by now, too. They’re coming to visit this weekend.”, the Big Guy said.

“Yeah, Dad, let’s pick up. I’m starved and I do kinda wanta tell Grampa what I did this morning. Do you think it will bother him since he can’t hunt anymore? It really makes me sad about his eyes.” Mike asked.

“Mike, you brag to your Grampa all you want. I guarantee you he’ll be tickled to death to hear all about it. He’ll probably make you repeat it fifty times so he can get it word for word to tell his buddies. We’ll try and get him to come along tomorrow. He loves to come to the blind even though he can’t shoot anymore,’ the Big Guy said, and then he got real quiet.

“Let’s pick up. Think you can handle the clutch if I send you after the pickup?” He asked.

“Really, you mean it Dad? Yeah! I can handle it. No problem. Ease ‘er out. Just like you told me. Really? Are the keys in it? I’ll be right back. Wow, what a day!” Mike said this last over his shoulder, as he was already twenty yards down the trail. I guess he didn’t want to give the Big Guy a chance to change his mind.