Alternate hunting

Normally my hawking gives me an outlet for my blood lust, but things are far from normal this year. We took Jessie out yesterday in the hopes that she would find something to hunt.

The ranch next door is my best chance, I should say, my only chance to find some Ducks. The migration really has not set in as of yet, so the birds that I have available are the residents.

When I hunted there a couple of days ago, I found a bunch of Gadwalls in a little gravel pond that can best described as puddle. It is in the same field where the ranch's remuda is kept. Their horses are not like most horses, these come to you when you enter the field prepared to be caught up and used. Jessie really doesn't pay much attention, but it can be a bit of a pain when you are trying to call her down. I had helpers this time to distract the horses.

I was stuck this time, it was the pond or nothing. The rest of the creek had a pile of Cows in the fields on either side of the Creek. Cows are not at all interested in seeing anyone in the same field. They seem to have a guilty conscience, and are quite sure that you have evil intent concerning them and stampede in the worst possible direction.

I turned Jessie loose, and it soon became obvious that the pond was empty this time, and she was flying quite wide of the pond. She did get a lot of exercise however and eventually went to sit on the hay in a Stack yard in the next field.

While Tammy, Tara and George distracted the horses, I went to the far end to call her. The little darling at the first part of the season, always wants to be cute. Well, its her idea of cute. This consists of trying to see if she can rip the food off the lure by hitting and grabbing it at full speed as she rips by. Eventually she will quit that, but she tries any way. Even if she does manage, she will fly back to the lure when she finishes what she stole. Having seen this routine before, I always make sure there is something in the garnish on the lure is sturdy enough to withstand this kind of treatment.

Well she hit it twice, hard. She didn't get anything however, and tiring of this, I tossed the lure in front of a big pile of Greasewood, so that if she did try to carry it, she would land in the Greasewood. Well this is as familiar to her as her routine is to me. Plus she lost sight of it and landed instead on a fresh pile of horse shit. Unfortunately no one was able to record that for prosperity. She soon recognized her mistake and ran over to the lure.

As you might remember I have always had trouble picking her up off the lure. I am sure sometime in the far past, I have pushed her a bit too much and created the indelible thought in her little brain that I really do not have her best interests to heart, and even though I have just given it to her, my actual ambition is to take it away from her and eat it myself.

I have found it best to stay back a bit, and let her eat the garnish on the lure and then offer her the rest of her meal on the fist. George thought that her running style is cute, so her wanted to video it. He used his Smart phone so the size of the picture is a bit different. You can see her attitude when she decides that George is a bit close. It is also interesting to note that situations such as that triggers not the instinct to flee, but to fight.

 https://vimeo.com/77189128

password is : owyheeflyer

We still do not have a decent place to hunt Rabbits. I have therefore decided that I will give Puddy Tat to a fellow that lives on the West side of Oregon. He has huntable populations of Eastern Cottontails there. I will Keep Yogi at least for the time being. The State Falconry meet is the 24th of the month and I will take her there and give her to him then.

So now with time on my hands, I have decided that I well do a bit of Varmint hunting. Coyote hides brought an average of $40.00 each, with Bobcats bringing $525 last year. The guy that has taught me how to skin Coyotes  and Cats can manage the job in about 15 minutes. I am down to about an hour and half so far.

I gave my trapper friend the furs and the dead Coyotes that I got over the season and the deal was that I would get half when he sold the furs. I cleared $730. However I suspect that he was a bit more generous than he really needed to be. I bought a varmint rifle and the other stuff that an "elderly kid" felt necessary to pursue this new hobby. Of course I blew the first one up if you remember, but the company felt guilty and gave me another. I am sure that you might find it hard to believe, but the gun was actually faulty.

Well it just so happens that Oct is a good month to start. The Coyotes are wearing their winter clothes. So far I have two.

With as many Cows as they have at the ranch it is inevitable that some will die from various mishaps, or eat something that is poison and die. When they do it doesn't take long for the Coyotes to take advantage of the windfall. When the population is high they can clean up a full grown Cow in as few as three or four days. The last mishap occurred as they were preg. testing the Cows. One of them would not go through the chute, balked and started to jump the chute walls, changed her mind and ran into the wall and broke her neck. With 300 or more Cows to do, they just pulled her out in the Sage to a bone yard.

George and I went there this morning at day break to see if we could get one of them.

  This guy was chewing on the neck, and didn't see us. He never got out of his tracks.

As you can see he is holding a lot of beef in his tummy.

I spent the day skinning, fleshing and washing hides. Oh well it takes my mind off the political bullshit going on.

The last Jack standing?

 Today was Puddy's first day in the field. While she is a good hunter and well behaved as far as response, she gives the appearance of a slow learner. I got her near her normal flying weight, and decided that she was going out, ready or not.

I did not need to worry, she knew immediately what was going on, and willingly jumped in the giant hood as soon as she was given the chance.

We decided to try one of the ranches that was complaining about rabbit predation on his hay stacks last winter. Apparently his problem is now solved, since we found no sign of any rabbits in the hills surrounding his ranch. After a bit of driving and a lot of walking with no sign of any Rabbit populations at all.

I decided to go to the Pillars of Rome where the possibility of game was a bit higher. I generally do not like to hunt there because of all the Greasewood there. It is pretty nasty stuff, and a thorn in a wing joint is not high on my list of things that I like.

We got out and began walking,  Puddy acted as though we had been hunting all year long, and jumped up on the Tee perch, and stayed with us, intently looking for something to chase. Finely after a rather long trudge through the Greasewood, we veered over to the Sage to see if something was living there.

Karen bumped a Jack that lost his nerve after she had passed him. His break for freedom was cut short by a very serious hawk named Yogi. Puddy had also taken off when she flew, and went in the Sage as well. Soon the sound that we generally hold our breath for, when the hawks go into cover, came floating back on the wind.

As usual the first hawk on the scene grabs the first chunk of Rabbit that is available- the butt. The rabbit will then dive into a Sage Bush, trying to scrape off the demon that has sunk 8 talons into its butt. Things then get much worse because the other bird then grabs it by the head and all is lost at that point. There is no further chance of escape.

I had to pull the limbs of this Sage from between Puddy and the Jack. You can see where the danger lies if this had been Greasewood. They cannot slow, nor brake their headlong flight when chasing Jacks, if they do, then they miss. Nothing but an all out effort will get them their food.

As soon as I took control of the rabbit, Yogi began looking for her meal. That didn't stop her from trying to pluck it, but she was waiting for the sound of cellophane as well. In order to not dry out the meat that I carry for their reward, I either wrap it in cellophane or put it in plastic bags. I was trying to open the package with one hand, while holding onto the rabbit. Yogi was about to come looking for her reward, when I finally gave it to Karen to get her some food. She immediately abandoned the Jack to Puddy and I, grabbing he chunk of meat and moving off a bit to eat it. Puddy also let go when Karen tossed her chunk in front of her. I cut off a hind leg each to finish their meal.

I was quite pleased to find a Jack for them to chase, and grateful for his sacrifice. If I can't find a decent population of Rabbits, I will most likely quit hunting rabbits for the year.

I will likely give Puddy to a falconer in the Western part of the State because of the scarcity of game here. I am toying with the idea of sending Yogi to a breeding project, but I have not managed to reconcile myself to that as yet.

Hard times for Hawking

Its not looking at all good for this seasons hawking. It is the second year of what is probably a "normal" drought here in Southeastern Oregon. Almost all the back country ponds are dried up. None of the little marginal springs have water, and the normal feed that the desert provides is very scarce indeed.

We did have almost an inch of rain at the beginning of Sept., but it all soaked into the ground and very little made it to any of the little "drain water" ponds. The rain did however give us a little boost with the Cheat Grass, but it is very localized, and not very thick.

We held around 60 Jack Rabbits here at the house over the winter, but at this time I have only seen two here at the house. The Bunnies ( Cottontail ) seem to be close to normal, but considering where they live and the cover in those areas, they are not a viable hunting prospect.

We pulled the Harris Hawks out of the mews anticipating a fun year, but so far I have not found any game for them to hunt.

 We first tried here at the house. Yogi and I walked for about an hour and half and saw one Jack Rabbit. Next I tried the Danner area, ( a 40 mile drive ) There were a few Bunnies, and we saw two Jacks.

  We then tried the 12 Mile area, off the Whitehorse Road, and Yogi saw one Jack Rabbit in an afternoon of walking. Over the winter the Jacks made some serious inroads into my friends Hay stack, but we couldn't find any of them. I have one more place to try, and if it doesn't produce, we are faced with the prospect of putting the birds back in the mews and feeding them for another year hoping that it will be better either later or at worst, next year. I have no idea what happened to them.

I began cutting Jessie's weight at the same time as the Harris Hawks. I had put her into a breeding project at a friends house, thinking that she would lay eggs with no problem. I was surprised to find that she accepted the male, but it was a platonic relationship only. Apparently she is a bit imprinted, and only loves me? Yeah, right! She spent from January to about April in the breeding chambers. I stipulated that if she was not successful, I would get her back.

I finally got enough weight off her to be able to turn her loose to try to build some condition. The dogs are loving it, and at least they look forward to the days that she flies. I am unable to get any helium for my balloon so I was just turning her loose and hoping that she would build a little muscle. After the first flight, she started sloughing off. The last flight here at the house, she made one circle around and landed on the hanger. It was pretty obvious that she knew what we were doing, and would rather just eat and get it over with. Karen and I started walking down to the creek, and she took off and held position over us. Much more like it, and released us both from the boredom of building condition.

Since it was obviously a waste of time, we loaded her and the dogs up and went over to the Ranch to see what Ducks were available. I was not optimistic that much was going to happen. I have stated before and most likely will again, that ditch hawking is the best and shortest route to frustration that exists.

We stopped and borrowed a fax machine from Rosie. She told me that a little pond in the horse pasture had a bunch of Ducks on it this morning. I carefully checked it, and found that there were still some Ducks there. I put Jessie in the air, and waited until she was in position and we rushed the pond. I was very surprised when Jessie cut through the flock, snatching a Gadwall on the way through.

 They ended up in a Greasewood bush, and I had to extricate them.

 As you can plainly see, the little darling is trying to decide whether or not to attack me for my troubles.

 As usual, being a connoisseur of all things wild, the only part of a Duck that she likes is the fat. I can't say that I blame her, I don't much care for Ducks either, but she caught it, she has to eat it.

   Just for grins and to get something inside besides all that fat, I tossed her the Starling that would have been her meal if she had missed. She much preferred it to the taste of Duck.  I let her eat all she could hold while I looked over the ditches near us. Apparently the little pond held all the ducks close by, as there was none on the section of Creek close to our position. Thanks Rosie!

She finished as the sun set behind the Steens Mountain.