A Grouse Hunter’s Almanac: The Other Kind of Hunting

Soul Food

115 Soul Food We had walked the mile or so from our cabin to Martel’s Pothole, a glacial depression dug out during the last ice age. In southern Wisconsin these landforms are called kettles; in northern Wisconsin they’re called frost pockets. Martel’s had been logged a few years earlier, and all of the new growth shooting up made for prime grouse habitat. We routinely ride our mountain bikes through here, and just about every time, we scare up a bird or two, so we thought the long hike to Martel’s for a hunt well worth the effort. We arrived, and in short order Ox went on point. While we searched for the dog in the thick aspen, an ATV puttered toward us. We couldn’t see the machine through the trees and brush, but it was definitely moving down the trail toward us. Suddenly it stopped, and the rider killed the motor. It was still for a few seconds until a loud BOOM shattered the quiet of the woods. The shot ripped through the brush not far from us and even closer to Ox. 116 The ATVer had stopped, pulled out his shotgun, and blasted the bird on the ground Ox was pointing. My dog was probably within ten yards of the bird, although to be fair to the ATVer he had no idea that we were there. Fortunately, Ox didn’t get sprayed with #6 or #8 shot. When we got to him, he was mouthing the bird, and we could see where the shot had ripped up the ground nearby, shredding brush and scattering feathers. From this it was clear that the ATVer had ground swatted the bird, offering it little if any fair chance. The guy rolled up to us, and I commanded Ox to drop the bird. He did so, and it lay there in the dust and leaves at his feet. I refused to hand the bird to the sportsman and called Ox over. He could get off his contraption and pick it up himself. He wanted to chat, but I was in no mood to do so after he had nearly shot my dog. I was hot, held a 12-gauge, and at that moment really felt like shooting out his tires. On the other hand, the ATVer was within his legal rights riding in this section of the county forest, as well as ground swatting a sitting bird. The DNR prohibited neither. Later, as we walked home under the low gray sky of a perfectly ruined October day, Susan reminded me that I had no right to criticize and then played devil’s advocate for the sportsman. “Maybe he needed it for food.” I reminded her that he was driving a five-thousand-dollar ATV and could probably afford chicken. “Yes, but he still might be hungry.” After a bit she asked, “So what makes your way of killing them any better?” She had a point. Dead was dead, and hunting ethics didn’t matter to a dead grouse riding in an ice cream bucket strapped on the back of an ATV or riding in the pouch of my game bag. Midseason 117 Out in the woods there are no referees, no umpires or judges sitting high in the gallery checking to make sure that we play within the rules. What happens out in the upland and alder runs occurs simply between us and the grouse and the woodcock, with only the trees and the sky overhead bearing witness to the things we do, whether good or evil. No one is holding a gun to our heads and telling us how to behave. We can shoot birds on the ground, out of trees, or on the wing because in the field hunters individually must establish and adhere to their own ethics. The DNR has established daily bag and possession limits, as well as seasons and hunting hours, and hunter safety courses go beyond this, teaching the rules for handling firearms , marksmanship, and a more evolved hunting ethic like fair chase, but ultimately the individual hunter alone in the field must make his or her decisions about how to act. Leopold’s land ethic remains a solid starting point for developing a hunting ethic. Leopold, himself a hunter, wanted to extend ethical treatment to the land, treating it as part of the community rather than merely property...