Hunting Ethics by Brian Tompkins

 

 

I have had the extreme pleasure of spending time in the field with many of you.  Waterfowl hunting is a great opportunity that many people have high passions for.  While I am no expert, I have hunted regularly for over 30 years.  I still hunt rabbits and squirrels almost every weekend on public lands in Georgetown and Granger.  I make it a point to get out there.  A serious and habitual sportsman will develop ethics on top of what he may have been taught by the ones who first took him to the field.  I do not flinch from the fact that hunting is killing animals and I am not afraid of debate with the "anti-hunter".  What I AM afraid of lies within our own national interest group. 

Bountiful hunting is becoming spotty for many species.  Now a commodity, hunting has developed into a business in many "back-40's".  The avid sportsman must usually pay or be a guest of someone who is paying.  Having to pay means getting what you paid for.  This is where hunting ethics have eroded.  Maximizing the guided dollar into shooting opportunity and having little concern about more meat than can be eaten before it freezer-burns, or even more than can be put in the freezer is showing up in the ranks. 

I was dove hunting on a very slow day.  Someone, however, was shooting A BUNCH a little ways from me.  I carefully wandered over to see if I could maybe get into some of this.  When I moved to where I could see them, there were no dove flying there either.  They were shooting any bird that came along.  My day in the field was over.  I was mad as Hell and more disgusted than I could remember.  I did not confront these gentlemen with their 50 round bandoliers and shiny new guns.  I went on by these "hunters" and drove home.  What if I had been a fire breathing left wing liberal AND anti-hunter?  This was public land with hiking trails that do get used by all walks of life.  They were even standing on the hiking trail doing this!

I was invited to goose hunt on a ranch near El Campo.  My friend and I crawled up to a levee where, on the other side were thousands of snows, blues, and the usual unsocializing specs on the fringes.  A typical spread.  We peeked over like a couple of kilroys and hunched back down.  We could barely contain ourselves to decide on how to go about this.  We knew that we were going to kill a bunch of birds, for sure.  Two teens, fairly new to being out there on our own, facing a man sized spread.  We were going to show our dad's that we could bring home some game.  Big goose hunters, we were.  We plowed into the spread with deuces.  Hit 'em again with a reload of the same as they rose.  We each gave 'em a magazine of 4-buck straight up from underneath.  I will never forget the sounds of that hunt as long as I live.  We had birds dead, dying, and wounded scattered for thousands of square yards.  We chased birds for quite some time.  Some even got up and flew off.  We gathered our flock and threw them in the bed of the truck, stuffed behind the seat, and in the toolbox.  When we arrived at my house, Dad was having his coffee on the porch.  A goose or two fell out when we opened the doors.  All he said was, "Put 'em in the back yard."  He knew what we had done without asking.  He went inside and started the dipping pot to boiling.  We spread our kill out like he said and when dad came out he just shook his head, walked over to the specs and started checking their breastbones.  He found one that was buried deep in fat, picked it up and said, "I've got all I want right here, y'all have fun with this and don't leave a mess.  You leave feathers and guts all in this yard and your momma will have both your hides."  I asked him if he was going to help and all he said was "You shoulda thought about this before pulling the trigger"...ethics lesson from Dad.  We had killed more than we were prepared to deal with.  He was happy with one fat spec.  Nowadays, so am I...if that's what it comes down to.  I don't think I could kill today's limit of snows.  I don't like 'em that much out of the oven or from the skillet.  Serves me right, I killed more than I needed to in about 5 minutes that day.        

We, as proclaimed guardians of our bounty have to be upstanding in our ethics.  We have to accept that there are those among us who seek only to kill and we should separate ourselves from those who will not practice good ethics.  They are the ones who do not believe that the sunrise is the part of the day in the field that you take home in your "memory bag" if your game bag is full or empty.  They would not be just as satisfied with a picture of a great buck or a struttin' tom they saw, if the killing opportunity was no-go.  They wouldn't even think to put down the gun and pick up a camera.  We drool over such pictures in magazines; we even picture game in natural settings in our minds.  Why deny the opportunity to pop a few frames instead of caps?  You still have to hunt.

I was taught shoot to kill, quickly kill the wounded, take and eat what you kill, don't kill more than you will use, and NEVER kill what you won't eat.  Basic rules right?  Should go without saying?  We all know that?  So why do we have a problem in our midst?  What do we do about it?  We work on these and other similar questions as an ethical group and try to bring back the realization that great hunting does not always have to mean a kill.  I can truthfully enjoy a hunt by watching others enjoy it.

I will be rabbit hunting this Sunday.  My skillet is only big enough for two cottontails.  Guess how many I'm after.