Over three decades ago, I was hunting for partridge and grouse with my old friend Buddy. We decided to try out an area just south of the La Grande 2 airport where all the tamarack trees and caribou moss looked loaded with potential for a good harvest. As we walked around silently, searching treetops and lower branches, we came upon a clearing in the forest. It was a beautiful spot to rest, and we sat on a large boulder just to take a breather and cool down from the sweat we worked up.
In the centre of the clearing, there was a single tall tamarack. As I cleaned off my glasses to see better, we noticed that it seemed to be different from the other trees. Just when we were going to get a closer look, we saw some partridge on the lower branches of a tree just on the perimeter of the clearing. Then we saw another and another, so we decided that we would silently try to pick them off with the little .22 short calibre using an old Winchester pump action rifle and a single shot Cooey.
We managed to bag over 30 by the time we finished and returned to our starting point and decided to look at the tree closer, to see if there were any others. As we neared the tree, we noticed that there seemed to be a lot of white dots, which upon closer inspection, turned out to be thousands of mushrooms stuck on about every branch. We marveled about it and determined that this was the secret stash of mushrooms of the squirrels, which started making a lot of noise when we were very close to the tree.
Probably in defense of their winter hoard, several squirrels got menacingly close and chattered quite angrily. We took the hint and left that sacred clearing, vowing to return another year to harvest more partridge and grouse. Since the sun was setting quickly as it was late afternoon, we headed back to my pickup and slowly drove back to the highway, harvesting another dozen or so partridge. Today was a good day for us and we talked about those mushrooms and guessed at how many there were on that tree of life. We decided to leave it alone for nature to continue its course and drove home.
As we drove our way back home, Buddy’s conversation with me was loaded with recipes on how he would cook these birds for his family. My recipe was basically to roast the bird in its own juices. We reflected on how many birds there were in that area and wondered why no one seemed to be actively harvesting them. We decided not to tell anyone else about our new hunting site, just in case the tallyman came after us and gave us heck for not telling him that we used his land to hunt.
But it turned out that he was already aware of us being there and asked how we did with our little hunt. We told him of all the grouse and partridge we saw, and he told us that he hadn’t tried that area and thanked us for going there and telling him of our successful trip.
So, some wise words, always advise the tallyman that you will go on his lands and report back to him on whatever you do, otherwise some confusion will arise and then you will get into all kinds of troubles. Also, practice wise and safe gun handling.
As for today, 35 years later, I wonder about that spot and when I pass by it on the highway, I see that the road is overgrown and no tracks lead up that path. I may just call the tallyman and ask if it’s okay to try again, this time with some grandchildren, as my hunting partner passed on to better hunting grounds some years ago.
Happy hunting and enjoy the great outdoors!