There isn't much of anything but a few rats, skunks and a mighty few 'coons left here. Every Johnny is busy looking for the few. Rabbits are getting scarce, too. I walked a half day and my dog and 1 didn't get a thing started and he is mighty good getting them started. There are a few down along the rivers, but none worth hunting for out here in the upland. My honest opinion is if the law was open on rabbits there would be more to hunt than the way it is, because every one who can rake up a gun of any kind goes out on the first two or three days of the law and everything is killed, law or no law. The farmers raise the game; the town sports kill it, or the largest per cent, of it. If the law was open, as I say, they would not all get out at once, and if a rabbit got up and there would only be one or two fellows to shoot at it, it would have more of a chance than if a whole regiment got a shot at it. It must surely be, for there is a fellow on every stump and fence post looking for his turn. The law generally comes in when the farmer is the busiest, but that just suits the town hunter.
I saw three town fellows with hounds and gun one day in September on a Sunday morn come strolling up the ditch and go en over in my thicket, so I went down to see what they meant; but I found them sober and full of lies and heaps of wind to spare. They denied hunting, shooting or trespassing; just seeing if the dogs would do anything. Both old hounds that had hunted for at least five or six seasons, and if they couldn't do anything, as they said, at that age, they ought to be put out of their misery, I think. But I told them I didn't want to see them back any more till the law came in, and not on a Sunday, or I'd show them which way it was to the game warden's house and they took my word for it and haven't been back at all, that I know of.
I am a natural-born hunter and trapper and I don't believe I'll ever be satisfied until I can go some place and make a living at it, because it can't be here. I work hard farming, but when I get time to hunt, every hole has traps in it and all the game killed, and then I feel sick instead of better, as I ought.
O. Joe E. Leasure.
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