Pheasant Hunting Firsts by Art Coulson

Author:Art Coulson [Coulson, Art]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ages 9-12; books about outdoors; chapter books; diverse books; hunter safety; Hunting; Jake Maddox; outdoors woman; outdoorsmen; own voices; sportsmen; sportswomen; Hunting; chapter books; outdoorsmen; outdoors woman; sportsmen; Jake Maddox; own voices; sportswomen; ages 9-12; books about outdoors; hunter safety; diverse books; kids hunting stories; bird hunting; duck hunting
Publisher: Capstone
Published: 2021-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Watch Your Step!

Just before dawn the next day, we all gathered in the yard. Uncle Richard and Dad came out of the barn with a bag.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Heavier booties for the dogs,” said Uncle Richard. “We’re going to be hunting an area that’s rockier and hillier today.”

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “We thought we’d try something a little different today and see if we can’t change your luck.”

Aunt Jo’s story had made me think about the hunt differently. But I still wanted to get some birds. I couldn’t help it.

We loaded up the trucks and started down the long drive, heading toward some rolling, grassy hills dotted by small trees.

We climbed the first hill and stopped just on the other side. Everyone climbed out. We got the dogs out of their crates and laced on the heavier leather booties.

“Got a good feeling about today,” Dad said.

“Arlo and Will, you hunt that hillside over there,” Uncle Richard said, nodding toward a hill to our left. “Charlie and Tanya, you guys hunt that hill off to the north over there.”

“What about me?” I asked, confused.

Uncle Richard laughed a loud belly laugh. “You’re with Aunt Jo and me today, Chooch. I thought it was about time you hunted with a pair of professional guides. You didn’t seem to be having any luck with those amateurs.”

Aunt Jo closed the tailgate on their truck and pulled on her orange vest. “Let’s go,” she said. “I think Charlie is right—today is going to be a great day.”

We stepped off the dirt road and started to walk down the rocky hill.

“Watch your step,” Uncle Richard said. “You don’t want to twist an ankle.”

We spread out, with me in the middle this time. “Work it!” I said to Koda.

She began to dart around rocks and scrub brushes in her usual zigzag pattern. She flushed a rooster almost immediately, but I didn’t have a clear shot.

“Stupid tree,” I muttered.

I heard a shot off to my left. I looked just in time to see a pheasant drop from the sky, and Uncle Richard break his gun to reload.

“Nice shot!” Aunt Jo called.

I moved away. I wanted to get my own bird, not watch my aunt and uncle get theirs. But I wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping. I kicked a small rock and turned to look, just as a thick brown stick flew at me.

Only it wasn’t a stick. A rattler slammed against my left boot and bounced off!

I tried to retreat but lost my balance and threw my hands back to catch myself as I hit the ground. I scrambled to move away, sliding my butt against the dirt.

But the venomous snake wasn’t done with me yet. It coiled just a few feet to my left and shook its rattle furiously.

My heart pounded in my chest. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. I kept an eye on the snake and tried to use my feet to push myself back slowly, carefully.

Just as the snake was about to strike again, I heard a low growl.

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