The photographer’s bird-dog
Luke runs through a field at
Pine Wing Preserve with his prize
Preserving Paradise
By Fletcher Scott
Photos by Kenneth Boone & Fletcher Scott
“C
ome here, Joe,” called the down the edge of a row of pines.
dog handler as the box “Joe’s on point,” the handler said calmly.
door was opened.
Mac, the youngest pointer carefully
Out jumped two very hyperactive bird eased up behind her.
dogs. Both were english Pointers. Joe,
the older of the two, was covered with “Whoa, whoa,” was the command.
black blotches and ticks. Mac, the younger dog, was white with yellow blotches. “You guys ready?” the guide asked.
so eloquently put it, “Seven ounce of
avoirdupois could be wrapped up in no
other shape or form that would possess
such power to befog and confound the
senses or to disconcert and disorganize
the human nervous system.”
“We’ll follow the dogs out to field. Joe i carefully inserted two shells into my
will usually go on point first with Mac over-under shotgun and snapped it shut.
backing him up,” the handler explained. My thumb was on the safety lever.
What is it about this small puff of feathers that can run like a turkey and take off
like a rocket that is so captivating?
My shotgun lay across my arm with the
breech open as i plodded steadily down
the freshly mowed road that led me to
a weedy field. the grass was wet from
early morning dew, but this concerned
me little as i entered the field and walked
24 | BLAZE | Fall/Winter 2015
that explained it perfectly, because i
missed the bird!
the guide shuffled closer to the birds, all odds seem to be stacked against the
and they suddenly exploded in a rush of Bobwhite Quail. When danger threatens,
this brave little bird stays crouched in the
fluttering wings.
grass, feathers compressed to eliminate
as the late english professor and odor and remain motionless. He is perSouthern quail hunter Havilah Babcock fectly camouflaged against the sharpest
Accept No Limits | outdoorwomenunlimited.org