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Discussion in 'The Duck Hunters Forum' started by 1 shot kill, Dec 24, 2012.
Very entertaining!!! Thanks guys....
excellent --- It's a pity more people don't visit and read these stories.
Somebody should publish them.
On m nm. Nm m P
A guy from North Carolina I knew had always wanted to be a game warden. Now when I first met him, he was one of the biggest poachers you could imagine. He hunted before legal shooting time by putting white tape around the end of his barrel and shooting against the early skyline. He lined up as many ducks as he could and strafed them on the water. He hunted them out of season and any other time he could. Spotlighted deer ruthlessly. But then he got his dream come true. He was accepted in the game warden training program. Something that never happens happened. He was stationed close to his old haunts. The first thing he did was make contact with his old hunting buddies. ''Hey, look, Ralph is back. And he's the new warden. Boy this is great.'' They thought since he was their poaching buddy, he would either look the other way or join them in their clandestine pursuits. But, something they hadn't counted on happened. Ralph had become.....a game warden. He warned them first, ''Guys, I know what I had been. But more importantly, I knew what you were- and are. I know where you hunt, where you aren't supposed to hunt and do, your night spots and what you all do. And never mind what I had done, I will get you, boys. And I don't care if it's my dad, I will get you and see that the book is thrown at you.'' And he was as good as his word. He went out at night and caught spotlighters, early morning before daylight and caught time jumpers and did just what he said he would. He made sure they got tough sentences if he could.
Now, there was an old man that was known for poaching. Everyone around knew that Buck Hagar took game anyway he could. The problem was, he shared his kill with his neighbors and friends. And they loved fresh duck, goose, deer and just about anything else he got. So no one turned him in. Ralph knew it too. But catching him was another matter. He watched Buck everyday that he could, and the days he watched the same thing happened, old Buck would walk out on his porch at about 3:30 and say loudly, ''Hey warden, I know your there. Its cold, come on in and have a cup of hot coffee.'' Bluff, he thought. At about 4:00, he did the same thing. '' Hey warden, I know your there, so you might as well come on in. Its to cold to play this game with me.'' What really burned Ralph was that Buck knew his name. He had known him since he was a kid. But he insisted on calling him warden. As time went on, Buck was transferred to another station almost across the state and he didn't see anyone from his area for a few yrs. He came home for a vacation and had gotten word that Buck, the master poacher and hunter was basically on his death bed. Ralph really had feelings for the old man, he had gotten to know him well in all his stakeouts and felt a certain affection for him. He went to see him. When he walked in the old mans face lit up. ''Well, how you doin' warden? It's been a long time.'' They sat and talked for a while and Ralph could tell the old man was getting tired, so he rose to go. But he asked the old man something. ''Buck, I dont think I'll be asking you for any trade secrets now, but I want two things. One is, call me by my name. That has always irritated me. And tell me how you knew I was there all those times. Who warned you or how did you find out?'' The old mans eyes lit up and he looked at Ralph with a big smile. ''Well Ralph, I'll tell you. Every day that I was going out, I walked out on the porch and yelled, ''I know your there game warden.'' I knew you didn't like me to call you that so it would get you blood up. Then about 30 minutes later I would do it again. If you didnt come out in about 20 more minutes, then I figured you weren't there so I would go hunting. Simple as that.'' Ralph shook his head. He had been taken in by a simple ruse, and by a man he thought was a simple rube. He got word before he left the next day the old man had died. Too bad, he thought. That old man could train some of our new wardens in the ways of the poacher really well. Good bye, Buck. Hope you made it to the happy hunting......or poaching grounds.
Spent the last couple afternoons reading all of the posted stories, they were great! I used to be on these forums a lot back when Caller and the others were active, what a great bunch to sit and listen to on live chat.
It used to be that you found stories like this in magazines - Field and Stream, etc. by the likes of Buckingham or Ruark. Magazines being about extinct, unfortunately, maybe this forum might be a place for NEW writers to post their own stories - Moderator - what do you think about inviting writers to post stories in a separate sticky? Ok, so they don't get paid, but might get some experience and develop a following. Just a thought. Loved reading these, and would like to see more fiction to read.
I did something today I passed Callers favorite duck call on to another old refuge member California Flyway ,Myself having many health issues I wanted to see the call go to someone who was a member of the old group maybe not at the time Caller was here but knew me and many of the old timers. Plus he is a call collector so it was fitting. Rereading the old stories always brings a tear to my eyes . We miss you Tom Allen RIP!!!!!!!
Caller was definitely one of a kind.