Unconventional Hunts

[Desert Rat]

When most people hear the title of the fine book Death in the Long Grass they automatically think of Peter Capstick. He wrote this and several other good books about Africa and South America where he got his start.

But that's not where I crossed paths with this entertaining fellow and fine author. Not by a long shot.

The first time I ever read his name was about hunting dragon flies. (I think if Fla) He wrote this hilarious bit for one of the gun magazines and it turned out Capstick was a great fan of what I call "Unconventional Hunts."

In his story he tells about going to some swampy place dancing with dragon flies and armed only with a BB bun machine gun. (They used to make such silly things and they shot a lot of BBs but only about 25 ft. )

Anyway, Peter was instantly menaced by what he called "4 engine blue-tailed bombers." He went on to deliciously describe the "glint of the sun" off their wings as they swooped in low across the water towards him and he would cut loose a string of BBs until the two finally met. The 4 engine BTB would crumple in flight and spin down to the waiting water.

He wrote the article with all the drama of a correspondent describing the Battle of Midway and I read it several times...rolling on the floor with laughter with each reading. It's worth finding if anyone dares search for some of Capstick's less know bits.

But my point is this: After reading his story I never looked at the Benjamin Pellet rifle of the Daisy Red Rider in the same way. These were never again novelties of "toys" languishing in the back of my closet. Nope, they were combat/hunting rifles as sure and as serious as my current 30/06 et al.

Quite literally everything that moved or flew on the face of the earth became a target for me. And I didn't need a hunting license or anyone's permission to go after them. Nor did such a venture require great expense or preparation. Quite often "the enemy" was waiting for me right outside my back door.

With this little "literary hook" to stir your memories, I think I'll hush and see who is secure enough in their manhood to admit they've been on "unconventional hunts." There's no shame in the admission or the telling of how you enjoyed (and maybe even LEARNED) from these experiences. And I hope you'll bless us all with the story. I don't think I ever heard a hunting story about anything that didn't interest me.

Now, move up to your keyboard and type.

[10 Bears]

My "Hunting Dog" impressed me, just a few days ago.
An early emerging praying mantis was on the screen door, when I let the dog out.
He reached up and snagged that sucker so fast, a couple chomps and it was consumed.

Last time I caught a big praying mantis the SOB took a three cornered bit out of a finger.
I gave Rusty a "Well Done" for his effort.

I hunt "Paper Wasps" with my trusty can of WD-40, during the season.

[Hunter07]

Ahhh.......unconventional hunts.

My first;
About 20 years ago, we rented a small farmhouse located at these coordinates; 43.846903,-94.218054

The house isn't there anymore, but there used to be a small tree about 15' straight out the front door. One day, I heard a racket coming from the heat ducts from the basement. Turns out, it was a little red squirrel. I had borrowed a cheap .22 revolver from a friend, so I grabbed that and waited. A little later, the little bastard could be heard heading in my direction (I was on the front porch and had removed the screen from the door). The squirrel came rocketing out from under the front door and headed straight for the tree. Up the tree it went and it grabbed an acorn and looked around to see if the coast was clear for a mad dash back into the house. "Bang", and it fell from the tree. Next thing ya know, it sounded like a herd of elephants was stampeding through the house. In my haste to carry out this mission of extermination, I had forgotten the wife was taking a nap in the bedroom directly above where I took the shot from.

I have more........

[Hunter07]

Originally Posted by 10 Bears

He reached up and snagged that sucker so fast, a couple chomps and it was consumed.

I'll bet he never even tasted it.

Well done Rusty!

[10 Bears]

I periodically check out the results when he does a dump.
He chews a lot of twigs and branches, it worries me.
But they seem to pass, just little bits of wood, in a cluster within his turds.
Dumb dog eats everything he can get his mouth around and teeth into.
On blue rubber toy, hollow, about 8" in diameter, gradually dissapeared.
Found a bunch of those blue rubber bits in his dog shit, when I raked the stuff aside.

Danged dog, eats like a horse then grazes the yard like a cow or goat.

[Desert Rat]

Imagine yourself hidden on a hilltop above a secret enemy base. There are a zillion of them and only you and all you have is your giant brain and a pellet rifle. Start some shit here and you could be in deep cowabunga in the time it will take the enemy to advance 10 ft to your lair.

I concluded they didn't have a chance.

Down below a convoy of harvester ants moved hurriedly by towards the nest.

My first perfectly placed shot blew 2 or 3 off the train and into oblivion. The ants nearby scattered for the sides of the trail like infantry being strafed from above.

Now for the base. (Pump, Pump, Pump.......load next pellet.) Blappo! The two sentries guarding the entrance disappeared in deadly geyser of sand.

Almost instantly another squad appeared from below wondering WTF. (Frantic pumping) Blappo superbo! Part of the squad dies.

But part of them spread out like any veteran combat soldiers and they advanced in all directions while radioing for reinforcements. And I noticed some of the ants from the convoy I strafed were out of the "ditch" and advancing in all directions as well.

Hmmmmmmmm. Time for my giant brain to kick in before this gets out of hand.

Like a hidden sniper I started picking off the advancing ants moving my way. Clearly I'm a master marksman at this range.

Around the "base" still MORE of the bastards came out.

Not to worry! I picked up softball sized rock and pitched it a few feet on the other side of their hideout...but 180* from where I'm hidden. Some of the ants fall for my ruse and go in that direction. But an alarming number aren't fooled and kept coming for my goofy ass.

How could something virtually blind know where the hell I was? Maybe all them stories about ants being vibration sensitive were true.

I'll spare you any further details of this engagement as the rest wasn't too glorious. Yours truly was routed from the hill, lucky to escape with his life after being overrun by the main force AND the bastards from the convoy who flanked me.

My giant brain told me to flee and henceforth leave ants the hell alone. Lesson learned.

In the future I'd think of some other unconventional hunt. I had yet to tap this resource.

[Hunter07]

Great story DR.

[Sanders]

My uncle was working graveyard shift at the mine. Outside the window of his camp trailer he lived in, while building his house, several ravens would land in the tree and start carrying on. By the time he would get the door open and his rifle, they'd fly away and come back later. This went on for several days.

They got to where they'd hear him in his trailer moving around and fly off. So, he lay back down with his .30-06 and sure enough, they came back. He didn't even open the window, but took aim and blew one away, shooting through the glass. Thus ended his raven problem and he was able to get some rest.

He said the price of the glass was worth it.

[Desert Rat]

Sanders, an old high school English told me how when he was a boy that he and his brother built themselves a super blind in the family corn plot. The corn was being ravished by crows and the two lads were determined to stop it.

Each day he and his brother would grab the family .22 and trek out to their hideout. Each day the crows would fly off before they got there and no matter how long and quietly they remained hidden........no crows.

In the depths of despair one night they asked their dad what they were doing wrong. Their father looked at them and smiled. "You're not doing anything wrong. Your problem is crows are smart as hell. They see you coming and just wait you out before returning to our corn."

The boys had pretty well figured this out for themselves by this time. "So what do we do?" they pleaded.

Their father winked and repeated, "Crows are smart as hell."
"BUT" he said, "they can't count."

The boys thought about this and the next day the two lads trooped out to their blind. They hid as usual for about a half an hour and then one of them walked dejectedly back home. My old teacher said before he reached home he heard a shot. A "smart" crow had died.

This greatly troubled the surviving crows. Now they weren't so sure when the corn was guarded and when not.

[Rew]

Moonless night, we have a fully charged 12 volt battery and wired to it, high beam side a headlight. We are standing over a small pond. Soon as Tommy snapped the light on, right there in the beam, our pray. I knocked an arrow. Range, about 20 yards. Tommy whispered, "Can you hit it at this range" as I came to full draw I whispered back "He is as good as in the pan" drew a breath let it half out and released. Sure enough pinned that bullfrog to the bank. I had 6 broad head arrows got 4 more missed one when the arrow grazed a cattail. Then we moved to the other bank. Ended up with 16 frogs that night.

[Rick in NY]

Well, at 12 I used to hunt frogs in the pond with my 22. Loaded with ratshot to prevent ricochets, you had to get up close and personal. That meant snuggling up to the dirt and creeping into position. Spent many hours doing that.... Good memories!

[baboon]

We use to hunt dogs that jackasses dumped out in the country. A buddies uncle lived out next to the city dump & rendering plant & the feral dogs were all over the place. The dogs played havoc with his uncle who was gimped up from Vietnam.

We would hunt them from dirt bikes riding until we spotted them, then just start shooting them. At first we were going after them with our old surplus bolt guns. I had a Remington 03/A3 that was a laser beam. Eventually we ended up with semi auto's. Mini 14 at first then I got my H&K 91.

We even used pistols & shot guns towards the end as they were no longer a challenge. A feral dog will attack. I still see dog parts & red mist when thing about it. Them were truly good times. Exciting as it got back then.

[baboon]

Another fun killing game we had was pigeons at the rock quarry. The one we did this in was massive. You would glass around to find were the pigeons were roosting then launch a bullet into the center of their roost. This would get them to fly around that inside of the quarry were me & the boys would be set up with the shot guns.

[10 Bears]

DRs story about ants reminded me.

I nuke 'em.
Have over two pound left of a product called "Fly Bayt."
A tablespoon, gently dribbled into the hole.
Then the A bomb activator of enough water to flood said hole.
After the water has subsided, kick a bit of dirt over the entry hole.
In about a week or so you will notice new ants, repeat the pricess and the hill is dead.

In my fields I use a "stick flag" to mark where a repeat will be needed.

I hate red ants, this process should also work with fire ants, don't see why not.

[Sanders]

Originally Posted by 10 Bears

DRs story about ants reminded me.

I nuke 'em.
Have over two pound left of a product called "Fly Bayt."
A tablespoon, gently dribbled into the hole.
Then the A bomb activator of enough water to flood said hole.
After the water has subsided, kick a bit of dirt over the entry hole.
In about a week or so you will notice new ants, repeat the pricess and the hill is dead.

In my fields I use a "stick flag" to mark where a repeat will be needed.

I hate red ants, this process should also work with fire ants, don't see why not.

But oxygen and acetylene is more fun. At least until some of those bastards rain down on you.