Lions & Tigers & Bears

Funny how little things lying around evoke such big memories. I find things in drawers or shelves that I want to keep but have no specific place where they go. Lets call them “stuff” or more accurately “good stuff”. If they are small enough I will put them on my vanity where I dress and get ready for the day. That way I can see them daily until I find them a home.

One such item is this little wooden coyote call. I have had it forever and have no idea where it has spent the last 25 or so years. But one day… there it was. I think back to where it came from and where all we have been together and thought I had better write it down before someone just thinks it’s junk and throws it away.

Purchased in the mail

I went thru a period when I was around 9 or 10 years old where I ordered stuff (good stuff) out of the backs of magazines. Mostly Boys Life or Field & Stream. This probably came from the latter. I would read the ads over and over and when I made my decision I would take the $2 or $3 required for the purchase and shipping and put it in an envelope along with the filled out form included in the ad. My mom had me write a note with the instructions on plain ruled paper and wrap the money and the form…so that no one would see that there was money in the envelope.

You can guess at the date when the “Weems wild call” was made by the fact that there is no Zip Code but instead, the PO box is followed by Fort Worth II, TEX. It was some kind of zone system and Zip Codes came along in 1963. I would guess that I made this purchase in 1956 or 57.

This call is supposed to imitate a rabbit in distress which triggers a response from a predator to investigate. The ads that inflame the minds of 10 year old’s’ would have you believe the coyote will throw all caution to the wind and charge into the open where the waiting hunter will finish him off. The ads of today carry the same message but probably not targeted at a 10 year old with a pellet gun.

Early hunt with Dad

My Dad and I used to varmint hunt and I remember using this call with him around age 12. We were in the area between Lake Stamford and Haskell late at night. Those roads might produce a car or two between the hours of 10 at night and 2 or so in the morning. So we would just find a likely place on the road and get on the roof of the 55 Ford station wagon and begin calling. Dad had wired up an old headlight to 20′ or so of wire with alligator clips for the battery. He would pop the hood and hook the light up and direct the light into the sky where just the lighter rim of light fell on the target area. This would cause the eyes of a coyote or fox to reflect the light making them easy to spot. Now on this night we had stirred up an owl or two and had seen some movement but not any hard targets. We decided to move down the road a mile or two hoping for better luck. Dad had so lightly closed the hood that it had not clicked into place. Some where around second gear the air lifted the hood and folded it back with a smack…bending the hood so it would not close. Obviously the hunt was over. We tied the hood down and the next day went to the wreaking yard where we traded hoods with a brown 55 sedan who had been in a wreak not involving the hood.

All by myself

When I was 15 and living in Roby, I hunted with my buddies, with my dad and by myself. I would take chicken wire and make about a 8′ diameter circle and then weave broomweed in the wire for camouflage. I had 3 or 4 of these at different fields where I had permission and would only hunt them occasionally. One of these was on a place Lee Moore leased to me to raise some hogs my Dad and I partnered on. And on this particular night I was in a field of mesquite scrub about 200 yards from my hogs.

It was a very dark night and I quietly climbed into my blind and sat for a full 10 minutes before I raised this call to my lips. Now those of you who have heard one of these calls knows two things…it is blood curdling and it is loud. If there are many of you it will make your skin crawl…if you are alone….

Immediately when I stopped blowing that first time. I heard a thundering of hooves. I thought I was in the middle of a stampede. My heart was beating a mile a minute as I fumbled with the switch on the flashlight I had brought along with my gun. When it finally lit up the area there were about 7 Herford cows less than 20′ from me and with the same startled look that I had. One of them, rather than looking frightened started to pawing the ground. I stood up and made big noise that I thought would comfort me but startled me as much as the cows. Back in the car I decided I was hungry for truck stop hash browns, but mostly I think for bright lights and people.

Treasures

As I write this… this treasure is sitting on my desk reminding me of many other trips before and after that Fisher county hunt. This small wooden device was once part of my “coming of age”. But now it is used mostly to mess with Lee’s cats.