Wildlife Wars: The Life and Times of a Fish and Game Warden by Grosz Terry

Author:Grosz, Terry [Grosz, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing
Published: 2015-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

“OK, let me continue.”

I moved over to the bed of the pickup and looked at the two five-gallon metal tins. They were old lard tins, probably from some restaurant, cleaned out and converted to carrying containers used during hunting trips. Damn, there was blood on the rim of one of the lard containers! What a God-given break!

Looking over at the bearded one, I said, “Come here.” He moved to my side, and I lied, “I can smell antelope blood in this area.” Then, pointing to the lid of the lard can, I said, “Look at the bloody handprint on the top of the can.”

The lad just froze and then, after looking and seeing, nodded acknowledgment. “I would bet you a ticket that can and probably the other one contains the remains of the antelope. Am I right?”

Of course I was right, I had seen the whole thing, but it was a lot of fun playing with my mice and showing them the unique powers of a game warden! Before he could get his feet under him I said, “I would like to look in that lard can, if I may.”

The lad hesitated, then grabbed the can and took the lid off as if there were nothing in it but deer bags. I could tell it was his last act of hope and defiance. Quickly showing me the deer bags, he said, “See, nothing,” and with that put the lid back on and placed the can back in the bed of the truck.

I reached over, picked up the lard can, and set it down between us. I said, “This sure is a very heavy can for just deer bags, and with the heavy smell of antelope and all, I think this is where I will find the meat.”

I opened the lid, removed the deer bags that had been placed on top of the meat, and exposed the goods to six plate-sized eyes. The lads were dead, and they knew it. Their frozen look and bad cases of the big eye just confirmed that fact.

“Well, gentlemen, why don’t you get the other can and let’s put it into my truck instead of yours for safekeeping.” I took the first can over to my truck, and one of the lads was not far behind me with the other. I asked for and received their driver’s licenses, got out my citation book, and commenced to write all of them tickets for illegal possession of an antelope. Since none of them wanted to tell me where the critter came from or how it came into their possession, illegal possession was the safest way to go with a citation. I seized the rifles to assure the men’s appearance in California court, seized the antelope and the lard buckets for safe carrying of the meat, and asked if they had any questions.

They all looked at each other, and finally the bearded one asked how I was able to smell out the meat. Giving him a dead serious

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