Well, I've got bad news, and then I've got worse news. Yesterday I shot straight ... today I just shot a lot.
My whack-and-stack reputation from Day No. 1 was replaced with miss-and-whine ... and cussing. I missed a coyote on the first set of the morning that could've qualified for a few sprinting events in the next summer Olympics. It came screaming into the call like hunger was physically eating its stomach, and turned just as quick after it got way too close. I couldn't stop that 'yote with my best bark, and I'm as good at hitting a running coyote as I am at picking my nose with my left hand. That said, had I a shotgun or a bayonet that critter would've been finished.
The third set of the day was laced with sheer stupidity on my part. I was working a trio of coyotes right into my lap, and had the whole scenario worked through before it ever began: I was going to kill the middle dog (which was the big male of the group), pound the back one next and then level the front one as it retreated. The problem was that I was so sure the first coyote was going to drop at the shot, that I missed it ... standing ... broadside ... at less than 100 yards. I know I can't kill 'em all, but I want to!
As a group, we added another 9 fawn killers to the stack, totaling 21 in 2 days. As an English major I don't count real well, but I'll take those numbers any week of the year. Interviews and photos in the morning, and then we'll head to the hills for one last assault.
And here's the worse news: Remember the photos I promised? Well, sometime during my sleep, a mouse—or herd of mice—ate my granola bar and chewed through the cord of my card reader, both of which were on the nightstand 18 inches from my head. Needless to say, I might tack on a mouse hunt after my coyote hunt tomorrow. I've been wanting a full-body mouse mount for a long time now. I'll keep you posted.
But I wouldn't hold out on ya with the kill-more-coyotes tip promise I made. While hunting with Les Johnson of Predator Quest (who, by the way, has likely killed more coyotes than I've lied about) I finally caught on that he adds a subtle little quiver to his jackrabbit in distress call. It's so lethal that it might be outlawed in the near future. It's so subtle that I missed it the first few sets, but the coyotes noticed. I caught him throwing it into his song time and time again when coyotes would hang up, and every one of those critters broke the stalemate and lined out to the call each and every time he worked his magic. When I asked him about it, Les smiled at me and changed the subject.
Wanna know what it sounds like? I'll have a video for ya right here next week when I get back to civilization.
I'm wind-burned and my contacts have been thoroughly sandblasted, but I've got one more day to pile more fur to the heap ... and I'm damn well not going to end on a miss.
Keep your nose to the wind ... it's the best way to kill a coyote.