Walking down, inside the draw, bordered on opposite sides by plowed fields that stretched to the edge of Oklahoma's Verdigris River. I kept my eye on and kept pace with my old hunting and fishing partner Ralph as he walked the upper edge and more difficult path of the draw to my right. A typical chilly day it was but all the walking kept us warm. His dog Dooley, a liver and white Brittany Spaniel, worked the cover in front of my path angling ever-so-often toward Ralph only to circle around again toward the middle. By this time we had already jumped one good covey of quail which had spread out across the draw. As we walked on, Dooley would lock onto point where we would flush a single here, then a double there. As we moved toward the far end of the draw, Dooley once again got real birdy and spun to his right and lunged into a clump of cover. A single bird rose almost straight up, then arched through the alders. I swung my Stevens 16 gauge double barrel shotgun leading the missile of a bird as it raced away. I fired and the bird crumpled. As I sauntered over to where the bird had fallen, Dooley met me there. He lifted the bird in his mouth then dropped it where I knelt low to retrieve it. Oddly enough, the bird was a Woodcock, a somewhat rare game bird to be found that far west, but more common in that part of Oklahoma. It was my first and possibly most enjoyable time I ever shot one of those birds.
*****
Ralph locked onto me and my good friend Rocky, and my brother Ken back then and seemingly enjoyed our company as much as we enjoyed his. Those quail hunts often turned into epic adventures. Like the time we drove the hour and half from Tulsa, picking up Rocky and my brother and his dog, a beautiful English Setter named Lady, along the way, to a public hunting area on Eufaula Lake, a place called Hichita. If I recall correctly it was either New Years Day or maybe the day after and brother was it ever cold. A mighty winter cold front had crashed into the state bringing with it some snow, strong winds, sub-zero temperatures, and the potential for a wonderful day afield. It was perhaps the single coldest day I ever hunted. Wind chills were well below zero.
There were several draws that dissected the fields with crop stubble still standing in them and we would spread out on either side of a draw and work our way down allowing the dogs to do their thing. Before long they were getting into birds and in spite of the cold, the shooting became hot and fast. We ended up walking across on the frozen fields wanting to connect up with another draw. The wind was blowing so hard, the falling snow flew sideways and its bitter bite cut through us like needles. Even so, toward the end of the hike across the field, the dogs once again got into the birds. Man-o-man was it ever fun. I'll never forget that day and oddly enough, wish I could do it all over again.
Hitchita became a fertile quail hunting area for us and on one such hunt later that season, we jumped one of the largest covey's I've ever seen. I swear, and I am not exaggerating, there might have been upward to 75 or maybe more birds in that rise. They looked like a cloud of smoke when they got up. It happened so suddenly none of us even got a shot off. We were so stunned by the numbers, we simply could not react fast enough.
Another similar covey rise happened out at the Okmulgee WMA not too far from Hitchita and not too long after.. Rocky and I were stomping around in there, he just on the inside of the treeline, with me walking just outside of it. We had no dogs on this outing, just us trying to walk up something. Within a few dozen yards, he stepped into another one of those huge covey rises, one very similar to the previously described rise. Neither one of us shot a single bird out of that rise, they just disappeared into the cover.
Most of the time, our covey rises were more typical with 8 or 10 birds getting up, sometimes even fewer. One time I took my brothers dog Lady over to an area we simply called 'Out at Morris'. It was a place that covered maybe 40 acres or so with a couple of ponds where we did a lot of dove hunting and we often jumped several covey's of quail in there. Lady and I were working along a fence row where the cover was a little heavier. Out away from the fence row, the cover remained somewhat sparse with not much depth or thickness to it. After a while, Lady spun around and locked up on point. Problem was, she was pointing at an area where I swear the cover could not have been more than and inch or two high and it was pretty open as well. I looked at where she was pointing and could see nothing and I got kind of irritated with her and urged her quit to false pointing and to get going again. She would not budge. So to prove to her there were no birds in there, I sauntered over kicking at the dirt as I grumbled to myself and low and behold, a covey of about 8 birds got up, one of them hitting my leg as it made its get away. I never even got off a shot. Lady on the other hand, sauntered over wagging her tail obviously irritated with me for not believing her.
The quail hunting in Oklahoma from what I understand has taken a bit of a downturn over the years. It is still one of the best places to do such things, but land use practices, habitat loss, and other factors have caused the quail populations to fall somewhat. The odd thing is, a lot of folks want to blame the hunter for the decline. Truth is, if not for hunters, there might not be any quail at all for it is their purchase of firearms, licenses, and ammunition that provides the vast majority of funds necessary to the restoration of habitat. Most people do not realize that 80% of the quail population will die off each year regardless if they are hunted or not. What hunters harvest is simply that which will be lost anyway. Hunters as a rule are some of the best conservationist you can find and wildlife in general has benefited a great deal as a result.
About 22 years ago, I up and moved my family to Kentucky. Now Kentucky offers a great deal of outdoor opportunity, but it's Kentucky and quail hunting over here is simply not the same. Oh, there are quail here to be sure, but they are isolated and spotty and unless you have access to the areas where there are birds, the odds of ever having any kind of hot and heavy quail hunting action run rather slim. I haven't been quail hunting in 22 years as a result...and I sure do miss it.
The wild and free days afield of Oklahoma quail hunting are long ago behind me, but the memories of those days are as fresh and vivid as the days in which they lived. Remembering times past hunting for quail, well, sometimes it makes me feel a bit melancholy, but I am grateful for having had the opportunity to live out those days so long a go now.
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