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The Lie-ingest Gent’man

Printed From: Foods of the World Forum
Category: The Best Foods You Can Get - Your Own
Forum Name: Hunting and Fishing
Forum Discription: Hunting and fishing fed us for many thousands of years - discuss it here.
Printed Date: 09 July 2020 at 20:11

Topic: The Lie-ingest Gent’man
Posted By: HistoricFoodie
Subject: The Lie-ingest Gent’man
Date Posted: 06 November 2017 at 10:06
Who tells the biggest outdoor whoppers?

I was chatting with a guy the other night, who adamantly insisted that fishermen were the gol- darnest liars in the world. Actually, he didn’t say “gol darnest.” But you get the idea.

Me, I just snorted. When it comes to all-out, no-holds-barred fabrication, fishermen aren’t even in the running. So they add a few inches or pounds to their catch. Big deal!

When it comes to stretching the truth, creatively, and even believably, you need a quail gunner. Heck; those boys (I number myself among them, you understand) are making up their tales before they take their guns out of the cases.

Here an example: First, the facts. A few years back I had the great pleasure of attending a plantation-style quail hunt down at Live Oak Plantation, on the Georgia/Florida line. I mean this was full bore: mule drawn wagons, picnic lunch in the field, only a brace of dogs (in the South, "dog" means pointer, just as "bird" means quail) and two guns at a time, a black lab sitting on the wagon, waiting to retrieve the birds, cuz pointers are too proud to do it, and coveys like you wouldn’t believe. Good thing I wasn’t paying for it, cuz, back then, it was $1,200 per gun for such a hunt.

So, I’m up. The dogs went on point. I mean those quivering points, with one of them on the birds and the other honoring. I walked in and flushed the covey, which exploded as only a bunch of Bobwhite can do.

As an aside, can anyone tell me how a 5 ounce bird becomes a 747? But I digress.

At any rate, I chose a bird, got down on it, and pulled the trigger on the 12 gauge. And it started raining quail. Or so it seemed. Felt like I’d fallen into a Nash Buckingham story. “Who else shot,” I demanded, even though I knew nobody had. When the smoked cleared, as it turns out, that “rainfall” was only three birds. Still and all, it hardly ever happens. And is always a surprise, nay a shock, when it does.

Obviously, just as I shot, two other birds had crossed behind my target. Me, I stood there with my lower jaw on my chest.

Those are the facts.

By the time I got home, those five birds had their afterburners on, and were barely in range. And I’d managed to pick off one of the side-flyers from the covey with my second shot.

I was writing an outdoor column in the local paper, and when I wrote it up, those 7 birds were merely specks on the horizon, cuz I had intentionally waited for them to cross, dropping them cleanly with the 20-gauge over/under.

If you asked me today, I’d tell you, straight faced, that after intentionally knocking down those 12 birds and the side-flyer, I quickly reloaded the 28 gauge side-by-side and took two more out of that covey. Well, 18 if you count the singles we hunted up afterwards, two of which were a right-and-left double.   

Any fishermen in the group think they can top that? I’m listening!

But we hae meat and we can eat
And sae the Lord be thanket

Posted By: HistoricFoodie
Date Posted: 06 November 2017 at 10:07
BTW, just to keep this on-track, those 22 birds, deep fried and served with biscuits and honey, made for an incredible dinner party.

But we hae meat and we can eat
And sae the Lord be thanket

Posted By: Hoser
Date Posted: 06 November 2017 at 13:15
You sound just like an old firefighter reminiscing about his most exciting days on the job, and his most harrowing calls Brook.
You brought a quick smile to my face with that one.

Go with your food!

Posted By: TasunkaWitko
Date Posted: 06 November 2017 at 14:10
I love it!

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