Emma and I hunted pheasant today, with a rancher friend. We hunted two different areas of varying terrain and cover. The first place had thick shelter belts and long, dense meadows along the river. Great country. We saw many birds and vast herds of deer. Unfortunately the birds were not holding. They would rise ahead of us at ranges of 100 to 200 yards in huge coveys and then scatter into the breaks. It was driving Emma crazy. The birds were just not playing her game today.
Next we went to our friend's home place and into some of the best bird country I have hunted in years. And today, Emma and I had one of those sometime-experiences that every bird hunter relives over and over. In thick weed-cover, two early-breaker cocks rose ahead of us about thirty to thirty-five yards out. Emma bounced up and down to watch their flight as they angled away from us, crossing our path, on their separate paths. I was in position and my partner was not. Swing-BANG, swing-BANG, and both birds went down. Good kills both as neither one ever heard the gun. Emma was beside herself with joy. I hunt with an over-under and a double with a double in tough pheasant country is an "event." Like they say, "Even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometime!"
It was a good day for us and we will sleep well tonight.
(Just as an aside, on that mini-butte to the left of the frame, Crazy Horse once watched white-eye troop movements.)