NEBRASKAland

VOL 55 / NO. 9 / SEPTEMBER 1977

Published monthly by the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission. Sixty cents per copy. Subscription rates $5 for one year, $9 for two years. Send subscription orders to NEBRASKAIand, Box 30370, Lincoln, Nebraska 68503. commission Chairman: Kenneth W. Zimmerman, Loup City North-Central District, (308) 745-1694 Vice Chairman: Don O. Bridge, Norfolk Northeast District, (402) 371-1473 2nd Vice Chairman: William G. Lindeken, Chadron Northwest District, (308) 432-3755 Gerald R. (Bud) Campbell, Ravenna South-Central District, (308) 452-3800 H. B. "Tod" Kuntzelman, North Platte Southwest District, (308) 532-2982 Richard W. Nisley, Roca Southeast District, (402) 782-6850 Robert G. Cunningham, Omaha Douglas-Sarpy District, (402) 553-5514 Director: Eugene T. Mahoney Assistant Director: William J. Bailey, Jr. Assistant Director: Dale R. Bree staff Chief, Information and Education: W. Rex Amack Editor: Lowell Johnson Editorial Assistants: Jon Farrar, Ken Bouc, Bill McClurg Contributing Editors: Bob Grier, Faye Musil, Roland Hoffmann, Butch Isom Art Director: Michele Angle Farrar Illustration: Duane Westerholt Advertising: Cliff Griffin Circulation: Juanita Stefkovich Copyright Nebraska Game and Parks Commission 1977. An rights reserved. Postmaster: if undeliyerable, send notice by form 3579 to Nebraska Game and Parks Commission, Box 30370, Lincoln, Nebraska 68503. Second class postage paid at Lincoln, Nebraska Contents A DAY LATE AND A DOVE SHORT 8 SEPTEMBER SEASONS . . . ANTELOPE 12 SEPTEMBER SEASONS . . . GROUSE 16 SEPTEMBER SEASONS . . . DOVES 20 BOATS ON THE FRONTIER 22 WHEN IT'S HUNTIN' TIME 24 EXCHANGE HUNTERS 24 NEBRASKAIand's HUNTING ALMANAC 30 ADVENTURES WITH WHISKERS/OWLS 34 DOVE DELICACIES 40 NOTES ON NEBRASKA FAUNA/WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE 50 DEPARTMENTS SPEAKUP 4 TRADING POST 49 COVER: One of the pleasures of fall is the arrival of hunting seasons, and Mr. and Mrs. Lauren Drees of Lincoln fully enjoyed the final weekend of mourning dove season in October 1976. They are shown here on her parents' farm near Avoca. Photo by Ken Bouc. OPPOSITE: Another pleasure of fall is the arrival of autumn color, and this view of Indian Cave State Park partly captures the beauty of that area, rich in hardwoods and "changeable" foliage. Photo by Jon Farrar. SEPTEMBER 1977 3

Whiskers Fan

Sir / This is a note to tell you how much we really enjoy NEBRASKAIand. I want to especially comment on "Adventures of Whiskers". My daughter is 8 and can't wait to read this section of the magazine every time it comes. She especially liked the killdeer. We have many of them here in S.E. Wyoming.

Have you ever considered publishing these stories in booklet form as a special edition for Christmas? It would not need to be hard back. As a school teacher I can see that they are very adaptable for the class room. I like the clear pictures. Keep up the good work!

Mrs. Lee Scheel Pine Bluff, Wyoming

Possibly the "Whiskers" section will be gathered up for use by teachers eventually, but nothing is in the mill yet. We are delighted that children find them entertaining, and hope they are also learning from the column. (Editor)

Far From Home

Sir / We enjoy NEBRASKAIand Magazine very much! The nature photography and short stories are truly superb. I am a native Nebraskan born in Columbus and lived in Lincoln until I was 23. So NEBRASKAIand helps us keep in touch with home though we are half way around the world. Thank you for sending it to us.

Arden Bausch Nes Ammim, Israel

The Real Truth

Sir / I was more than amused at the answer you gave Mr. Ernst from Duncan Nebraska. He is so right about a shorter season. The people in the Game Commission are always avoiding the real problem like too long a season, not enough men to enforce the law, and a dove season that gives the slobs such a good chance to kill most of the pheasants before the season opens. My land is closed to all hunters until we get this hunting back on a gentleman basis.

L. W. Ockinga Glenvil, Nebraska

Kind Words

Sir / For one who lives in another country and another latitude, your excellent magazine has provided many delightful hours of reading and information since my good friend Capt. Steve Davis of Plattsmouth (an ex-wartime colleague) arranged for its transmission to me here in Scotland.

In particular I congratulate you on the special supplement issued to mark Bicentennial Year U.S.A. This was a most graphic and fascinating view of the Cornhusker State.

NEBRASKAIand is very much appreciated by me on three counts. . . Firstly it recalls memories of a visit to Plattsmouth in 1970 and, in particular, to Arbor Lodge just outside Nebraska City; surely one of the most spectacular gardens my wife and I have ever seen (we were there in the fail of 1970).

Secondly your magazine limns the Nebraskan locale of a most interesting book sent to us by Mrs. Mary Lou Davis entitled "Them Was The Days", a saga of the Hawthorne family in their pioneering journey across the state. Thirdly, and this was the primary reason for Steven Davis so kindly arranging for our copies of NEBRASKAIand: your magazine has greatly helped in my senior pupils' projects this year on AMERICA 1776-1976 to mark the bicentennial year of your great country. (Since the War I have become headmaster of a primary school).

Congratulations on the text and illustrations of your magazine and best wishes for continued success through 1977 arid many more years ahead.

J.A. Gillies Glenrothes, Fife Scotland

Bright Outlook

Sir / In sending in my subscription to NEBRASKAIand magazine I might add that if this coyote hunting isn't stopped there isn't going to be any game to write about. We're about in that spot now. Also, the habitat acres will be worthless.

Homer Houdersheldt Seward, Nebraska

Whenever a practice becomes dangerous or threatening to another, regulations are changed to alleviate the problem. Some coyote hunting practices may be harmful to other resources, but gradually the regulations are being adapted to lessen the impact. Hopefully, your opinion of the habitat plan is in error, for it has become a basic belief that wildlife depends primarily upon adequate habitat. We are merely trying the provide more habitat for them and reduce the impact of society on all wildlife populations. (Editor)

Buggy Poem

Sir / McClurg and Westerholt teamed up to produce a fine article, "Waste Not, Want Not", in the October 76 issue. It confirmed my belief in these scavenger creatures. The mortician beetle caught my fancy—even inspired in me the following foolish lines:

The Undertakers With beetled brow They dig and plow The earth from 'neath dead mouse. They push it around Into a mound To form a storage house. This way they stash Their treasured cache For future family need. Thus, aged carcass In putrid mass Becomes their babies' feed. So, mouse, beware And do take care— You'll be their next possession. As it proceeds A beadle* leads Your funeral procession! *an official who leads processions. Wanda Benda Shelby, Nebr.

* * *

Cover Booster

Sir / I read your article "A Case for Cover" in the January issue. I agree that we need more cover for all wildlife. But, this should be a state-wide project. Landowners simply cannot afford to leave land idle at their own expense.

With the present high prices for pelts, it will be just a short time before our furbearing animals will be on the endangered species list. I think bobcats should be completely protected and restrictions placed on other fur-bearing animals.

I believe the hunting season on pheasants, grouse, and prairie chicken should be closed for one or more years.

Jerome Corbin Arnold, Nebr.

Many efforts are being made to figure out a workable and equitable system for establishing and retaining wildlife habitat, including a cooperative effort with the Natural Resources Districts. It is unrealistic to ask landowners to set aside high-quality land, but often even unused land is burned or bared for no reason. Often, landowners even burn road ditches to prevent snow drifting, when the cover would be better left for wildlike cover. Studies show, by the way, that hunting seasons do not destroy wildlife—it is strictly a matter of having adequate cover to sustain the critters over winter and to hide them from predators. (Editor)

SEPTEMBER 1977 5

The Tradiition of Hunting

Traditions are hard to break, some folks say. Well, that is because traditions are developed over a long period of time. They are fond memories, good friends, happy experiences. Hunting is like that. It is people doing something together for the enjoyment. Hunting is an American tradition, and it should continue. Money derived from hunting permits is used to manage game and non-game wildlife and habitat. Hunters have long supported these programs with their dollars, Now, together with non-hunters, even more can be done in conservation. Let's work together. Let's ail buy hunting permits whether we hunt or not. We will all benefit! There's no limit to what we can do, together.

A Day Late and A Dove Short

by Ken Bouc

Plans for an outing on the last day of the 1976 dove season had been optimistically hatched a short time,before in the balmy days of.a lingering warm spell. But, by the time that Friday had arrived, a high-balling cold front had about flattened any prospects for good hunting. Nevertheless, Lauren Drees and his wife, Rosann, stepped from their car at her parents' farm near Avoca fully confident of a pleasant day. Even if the nippy weather had pushed most of the doves out of the area, there were   prospects of good times between grandparents and the kids, and a guarantee of a good farm-style meal. An institutional research analyst for the University of Nebraska, Lauren had plenty of experience in the outdoors. He had done a lot of pheasant hunting and some fishing during his boyhood near Daykin, and later took up archery, skeet shooting, SCUBA diving and some other sports.

In their 10 years of marriage, Rosann had acquired some of his taste for the outdoors. She had just returned from her first big game hunt a few weeks before, where each of them had bagged buck antelope. In fact, the buck she had bagged topped the one hubby brought down, and was good enough to be awaiting the services of a taxidermist.

She had also hunted pheasants and other upland game for a number of years. But, like a lot of Nebraskans, dove hunting was fairly new to her, and she had experienced only a few outings in the two dove seasons Nebraska had offered in recent years.

The weather that day was merely cool by human standards, but to the thin-skinned doves, it must have been the equivalent of a howling blizzard. The sky was empty around the old windmill east of the farmstead, where a week before it had been filled with the gray blur of heavy dove traffic.

Only an occasional dove topped the block of timber beyond the windmill or skirted its edge, and just a handful of birds had been in evidence on the drive to the farm, where hundreds had been just a week before. The birds had apparently been pushed into Kansas, Oklahoma or Texas by the weather front.

The day was perfectly suited to the easy-going nature of dove-hunting. The sun shone brilliantly from a high, clear-blue sky, setting off the brandnew gold of the many locust trees nearby. The northwest breeze had a chill to it in the hilltop farmstead, but the warmth of the sun took over as soon as the hunters moved to the leeward slopes to the south and east. It was the kind of autumn day in which it seems almost a sacrilege to worry or hurry about anything, even something as pleasant as a dove hunt.

Thus, Lauren and Rosann were not too disturbed when the first hour produced little action and nothing for the game bag. Birds were definitely scarce, and any that happened along made it a point to fly high and fast and to be the toughest possible target.

In the long and frequent lulls between birds, it was easy to remember another time on that very spot, just two short weeks previous. I was along on that outing, which had actually begun as a fishing trip to some farm ponds in the area.

Lauren, his father-in-law Harry Jacobson, and I had hung up our fishing rods less than an hour before sunset. Harry volunteered to process the fish, thus allowing Lauren and me to grab our scatterguns and head for the old windmill.

That draw was apparently a dove thoroughfare between feeding and roosting areas. The traffic that evening was almost nonstop, with some birds coming in high, some low, some singly and others in small bunches, some coming from the south or southeast and others from the west.

Lauren had the choice spot, at the edge of the trees near the windmill, while I hunkered under a small tree along a fence. Many of the shots netted nothing more than a little triggerfinger exercise, or perhaps a few fragments of locust bark and leaves. But about every fourth effort brought another dove to the bag.

With perhaps 20 minutes of shooting time remaining, we began to hear a third shotgun join our chorus. It was

10 NEBRASKAland Sudden chill shooed birds away from one-time dove hunting hotspot. But, hunting was good, even without game

Rosann and her 20-gauge up on the hill near the farm. From the house, she had seen all the action we were getting and couldn't resist joining us.

Doves continued coming right up until sundown. Lauren specialized in tough snap shooting, picking darting birds from among the treetops as they flew over the timber. Rosann and I got mostly high flyers. When shooting time had ended, the three of us had 21 birds to show for our efforts.

But, all that was a couple of weeks back, and dove hunting fortunes can change dramatically in much less time than that. That same area now held only a smattering of the birds it had treated us to on that earlier outing.

As time passed, Lauren noticed that a bird or two would occasionally show itself above the trees far to the southeast, and one would fly over the southern end of the draw now and then. With eyes turned skyward to search for passing doves, the pair moved slowly down the draw, Rosann covering the edge of the trees and Lauren watching the clearings in the timber.

One dove made the mistake of showing itself in one of the openings, and Lauren's over/under 12-gauge brought the first bird to the bag.

Except for that one bird bagged en route, the move to the south end of the draw was unfruitful. After a 30- minute vigil there produced no more birds, Lauren and Rosann decided to check out another area to the west.

The way over led across an open field which was exposed just a bit to the breeze. That made Rosann's 20- gauge a bit cool to the touch, so she slipped on some light cloth gloves.

That move was to cost her the best chance of the day. About halfway across the field, Lauren spotted about eight doves approaching from the north. But, before they got into range, the birds settled into a little pocket of weeds and grass at the upper end of a waterway.

Rosann was nearest, so she crossed the fence to flush them. "She should have plenty of time to get off the three shots her pumpgun carried, and that should add a dove or two to the take," thought Lauren. But when the birds came up, there was only one shot, a miss, followed by a lot of animated fumbling with the gun.

A bit miffed at herself, Rosann offered an alibi for the blown opportu- nity. The first shot was simply a miss. Everyone misses now and then, particularly on doves.

And, the gloves were to blame for her failure to fire the second and third shots. She couldn't get a good grip on the smooth forend of the pumpgun with the cloth gloves, and all that resulted from her efforts to operate the action was a brisk polishing of its finish.

The third area proved as unproductive as the other two, so, as sundown approached, Lauren decided to move back to where shooting had been so good on earlier hunts—the old windmill.

But it was soon apparent that there was to be no rerun of that earlier hunt. A bird or two crossed the draw far to the south and another slipped by behind the hunters. Then, nothing.

Nothing except a fiery orange sun framing the familiar farmstead a few hundred yards away. Nothing but lacy yellow leaves and wicked thorns of locusts contrasted against the deep blue sky. Nothing but clean cool air and the noise of the countryside preparing for nightfall.

There were no more doves; just memories of another hunt at another time in that spot. The game bag hung limp at day's end, but it didn't seem to matter. It had been the kind of day when hunting was good, even if there was no game.

SEPTEMBER 1977 11

SEPTEMBER SEASONS

What does this year hold? Where are the concentrations and trophy bucks?

ANTELOPE

THE TOUGHEST PART of taking a good pronghorn buck in Nebraska is drawing a permit. After that it's all down hill. This year, for example, there were 1,311 applications for the 600 authorized permits in the North Sioux Management Unit. Not all the units were that oversubscribed, of course, and for the first time in years one unit didn't fill on the first go-around. An excess of applications continued to pour in, though, despite regulations excluding hunters who held an antelope permit within the previous three seasons. It is simply a matter of more hunters than Nebraska has pronghorn—a situation that is not likely to improve significantly according to Karl Menzel, big game specialist for the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission.

"I would not look for a significant increase in the number of antelope," Menzel said. "We are at the level that landowners with depredation problems will tolerate. Right now that is the factor limiting further increases. Perhaps some of the large federal areas, like the Oglala National Grasslands, could support more antelope if they didn't spill over onto neighboring private cropland."

During the summer of 1976, just after the fawning season, an aerial survey estimated that Nebraska had about 7,273 antelope in the major Panhandle range. According to Menzel, that is about 10 percent higher than the previous five-year average and about 11 percent below the peak number that Nebraska has had in recent times. This year, 1,715 firearm antelope permits were authorized. Since the first season was held in 1953, 27,359 hunters have harvested 21,997 antelope. Nebraska antelope hunters traditionally enjoy a high success rate, averaging around 80 percent. Last fall the overall success dropped to 73 percent, the lowest in the state's 23 seasons. Adverse weather on opening weekend (when about 80 percent of the successful hunters fill their permits most years), and the prolonged drought over western and north-central Nebraska, have been blamed for the relatively poor success. According to Menzel, an abnormally low harvest in one unit accounted for the low overall kill percentage.

"Last year the Box Butte Unit dropped to a 62 percent harvest,"

"I would not look for a significant increase in the number of antelope. We are at the level that land- owners with heavy depredation will tolerate. Right now that is the factor limiting further increases." Karl Menzel, Big Game Specialist

Menzel said. "The previous year it had been 79 percent, a more typical figure. About one-fourth of the permits issued in the state are in the Box Butte Unit, so a poor season there has a depressing effect on the overall success. If you excluded Box Butte from the computations, overall success would be only slightly below the average.

"There has been some pronghorn mortality from blue tongue, just 30 or 40 miles across the state line in Wyoming," Menzel continued. "We did not have any losses reported in Nebraska, but it is reasonable to expect that we did, and this could have had some effect on the below average year in the Box Butte unit."

The interstate movement of pronghorn just prior or during the Nebraska season is another factor that can affect hunter success in border units like North Sioux, Box Butte, Banner and Cheyenne. Colorado's season generally coincides with Nebraska's so migration may be nil in that situation. South Dakota's season generally opens after Nebraska's, however, so any movement of antelope is probably out of Nebraska. Opening dates of Wyoming's seasons vary from unit to unit so it is possible that some movement of non-resident pronghorn into Nebraska does occur where their season precedes ours. Range condition is probably a more important factor influencing interstate traffic in antelope, though.

"Normally, Nebraska has slightly better range conditions than the states bordering us on the north and west," Menzel continued, "largely because on the average we receive more rainfall and we have more cropland. With the drought conditions that prevailed here in recent years, it is not unreasonable to suspect that we did not have as many antelope moving into Nebraska from Colorado, Wyoming and South Dakota as might normally be the case. That could have affected hunter success in border units.

Traditionally the North Sioux Management Unit in the northwest corner of the state has the greatest pronghorn density, the most permits and the best hunter success. In 1975, 89 percent of the hunters killed antelope in that unit. Last year, 82 percent filled. One reason that North Sioux hunters enjoy such good success, year in and year out, is the terrain. Antelope are more visible and consequently more vulnerable on the tableland of northwest Nebraska than in the rolling, choppy sandhill country. Antelope density is another factor that makes the North Sioux Unit tops in the state. Box Butte and North Sioux units have roughly the same number of pronghorn, but they are spread over a much larger area in the former. Public land in the North Sioux Unit also improves hunter access and success. The 94,000 acres of prime pronghorn range on the Oglala National Grasslands makes this unit a favorite with hunters.

All of Nebraska's large federal areas are in antelope range. Some are better than others, but the Oglala Grasslands are at the top of the list. Both national forest tracts in the Sandhills are open to antelope hunting, with the McKelvie Forest land south of Nenzel being slightly better than the Bessey Division near Halsey. Game surveys indicate that McKelvie has moderate pronghorn numbers, somewhere between one and two per square mile. The Bessey Division is rated as having a low antelope density, one or less per square mile. Off-the-road travel is permitted on Forest Service land unless otherwise indicated, but hunters would do well to remember that the pursuit of antelope in a motor vehicle is not only a distasteful way to hunt, but an illegal one as well.

Limited antelope hunting is available on the Crescent Lake National Wildlife Refuge between Alliance and Oshkosh. There are not many pronghorn on its 45,000 acres but hunting pressure is low, too. No off-the-road travel is permitted on wildlife refuges. Most antelope hunting necessarily takes place on private land and in general, access is good, especially if advance arrangements are made with a landowner. The chances of turning up a big or trophy buck are better on private land than on the heavily hunted public areas. Few bucks live long enough on the federal areas to sport horns of 14 inches or longer.

According to check station surveys, a higher percentage of older pronghorns come from the Sandhills units. That could be interpreted to mean that the trophy hunter has a better chance of finding taxidermist material in a private-land unit like Garden or Box Butte. According to Game Commission biologists, units like North Sioux, Banner and Cheyenne are cropped too consistently to produce many big bucks. The current state record pronghorn was taken by an archer in Scotts Bluff County. The state firearm record came from Sioux County. That might mean a hunter would have his best chance for a trophy on private land in one of the northwest counties, the state's top antelope range.

A tight permit situation is not a problem for archery antelope hunters. The number of bow permits is unlimited for both residents and non-residents, and a hunter can hold a permit each year. The season is long, generally running some 60 days, and hunters are not restricted to one management unit. But, that is where the archer's advantage ends. It's easy to get a bow permit but darn tough to get an antelope. Last year, 146 bow hunters killed 14 antelope for a 10 percent success. Half of those taken were adult bucks. During the 12 years that an archery season has been held, the bowmen's success has ranged from a low 4 percent to a high of 26 percent. Pronghorns are visible animals, unlike deer, and locating a legal animal is only a short step on the long stalk to a 14 NEBRASKAIand cancelled permit. Long shots are common, though not always necessary for the rifle hunter. The real test of a hunter's skill should be how close he can stalk to his prey before shooting. Shots over 400 yards indicate a lack of respect for the animal, and flock shooting into a herd of running antelope is the reaction of fools.

Making use of hills, draws and cuts in the terrain is the key to narrowing the distance between hunter and game. This is especially true for the bow hunter, who has to cut the range to 60 yards and preferably less. Time and again, the archery hunter is faced with a fine, tantalizing buck standing only 100 yards out with nothing but flat land in between. Some successful bowmen take up stands on alfalfa fields or near water, especially stock dams. Slides under fences can also indicate regular use by a local herd. But more often than not, hunting pronghorn with a bow means one challenging and frustrating stalk after another. Most pronghorn taken by arrow come from the North Sioux Unit where an eroded landscape allows for an out- of-sight approach. Stalking within bow range in the rolling Sandhills is more difficult. Of the 14 antelope taken by archers last year, 12 came from the North Sioux Unit. In 1975, all 7 killed in the state were from North Sioux.

What is the outlook for this year? Aerial surveys were not completed at the time of this writing, but the results probably would not tell hunters anything they didn't already know. There will be a good supply of pronghorn on hand for the opener, and about 80 percent of rifle hunters and 11 percent of bow hunters will cancel their permits. Only a few trophy animals will be reported and probably they will be taken by hunters in Box Butte, Garden or one of the Sandhills management units. More than likely, they'll fall to hunters who knew in advance that there was a big buck in the neighborhood. More than likely, there will be some days hot enough to work up a sweat and, unfortunately, too many well-planned stalks will end prematurely when some inconsiderate four-wheel-drive jockey comes roaring over the hill. The antelope will be there and you can bet that most hunters lucky enough to draw one of these precious permits will be on hand to match wits with one of Nebraska's most sought-after game animal.

SEPTEMBER 1977 15

SEPTEMBER SEASONS

GROUSE

NEBRASKA CONTINUES to offer hunting for two species of prairie grouse—sharptaiI and prairie chicken- but the die may already be cast that will eventually change that picture, casting more gloom over bird and hunter.

For a while, the picture may not ap- pear all bad, and some areas may actually be enhanced for the birds. In the long run, however, both these hardy, interesting creatures are going to have additional suffering and hardship heaped upon them.

The 1977 fall season on both species opens September 17, and hunter success may vary widely depending upon summer weather, food and other factors. In most cases, winter was relatively mild and spring fair. A severe hail storm, approximately five miles wide and stretching from Ainsworth to York, is estimated to have done extensive damage to grouse in that huge strip. Hunters are advised to avoid this area. Locally heavy rains could also have had an impact in some regions.

Although press time was too early to take advantage of any of the annual surveys, we did talk with some of the people who know most about grouse to get their opinions.

"I have much admiration for the grouse," said Ken Johnson, chief of the Terrestrial Wildlife Division of the Game and Parks Commission; "probably more than for any other animal or bird. And most of it is because of his ability to survive in his environment. Even when it's 30 degrees below zero, you may find him standing out on an open hillside in apparent ease, or snuggled in a snowbank. They are really tough and resilient birds".

Perhaps no other wildlife has selected, or been pushed to, as demand- ing an existence as the grouse. It is impossible for humans to appreciate the difficulties faced by any wildlife, and especially this feathered hero.

Their existence is marginal even under the best conditions, let alone during extremes such as droughts, heavy rains or the always rigorous winters. Living in the Sandhills where protective cover is at a premium, any extra hardship must certainly be felt by the grouse. Changes in food availability exact a toll; land use changes take a toll; any increase in human population and traffic affect them. Yet, their plight is not taken into account when environmental changes are contemplated, and it is unfortunate.

 

Nebraska is one of the few states that still has hunting for prairie chicken, said Johnson, and now pivot irrigation systems are proliferating at an astonishing rate, primarily in prairie chicken territory. It is difficult to guess what will happen for certain, but in the long run, the birds have got to suffer.

If agricultural development is scattered, with prairie grass left between plowed fields, the birds would be benefited as they capitalize on such changes; they "follow the plow," an old saying goes. When development exceeds a certain amount, however, their tolerance is overloaded and they are erased from that area.

Ken Robertson, game biologist at Bassett, mentioned the big hail storm as a factor in grouse production. "I never saw the range torn up so badly as by that Memorial Day hail storm," he said. "It just took everything—cattle were taken out of those pastures the next day because nothing was left. It was really tough on waterfowl and birds.

"Other than that," Robertson observed, "range conditions look good- better than for several years."

He pointed out, however, that it will be at least next year before an improvement in nesting cover is reflected in an increased grouse population. Residual cover was sparse this year but spring rains and early warm temperatures were very favorable for good brood and rearing cover. The rains came at about the right time, at least in many areas of the northern Sandhills, and the grasslands improved well into June.

Robertson added that the eastern Sandhills area has lost a lot of grassland to cropland as irrigation in- creases. "In Holt County, for instance," he said, "there is nothing left for birds. Cover has been in such bad shape- down for several years—and now irrigation may be the death knell. Things are better in some areas because of range conditions, but there has been a drastic change over the past 10 years. Some areas, such as around O'Neill and Ewing, went from all grass to all corn on at least half of the 20-mile routes we run every year."

He explained that each year, surveys are run over the same 20-mile routes, and that every five years the routes are "mapped" as to amount of cover, type of vegetation and other data.

The areas which appear to offer the highest densities of prairie chicken this year, with good and bad areas within, include Rock, Garfield, Wheeler, and portions of Holt and Loup counties, plus some sections of Blaine and Brown counties.

For sharptails, the best looking areas are Cherry, Thomas, Blaine, and Hooker counties. Basically, regions for both species remain much the same year after year, with fluctuations depending upon weather and agricultural influences.

As the sharptail is basically a grassland bird, seldom utilizing grain even when available, they have benefited more from this year's weather than have the chickens. Range improvement in the grasslands has been most pronounced, and if another mild winter comes this year, and providing no other factors interfere, there should be an increase in the sharptail population next season. Mild winters and nesting cover are the keys.

To many, the early sacrifice of the bird for the sustenance of the pioneer, the greed of the market hunters and the gluttony of eastern gourmets was a disgraceful display of human contempt. With sensible harvest and concerned agricultural development, the birds could probably have been increased rather than virtually eliminated. Yet, these same human characteristics are still much in evidence today.

As all vegetation but cash crops are ripped out and sprinkler pipes clank together in a seemingly endless network, the grouse stands as a small, helpless shadow in the maze. It is easy to condemn a faceless corporation and accuse it of having no conscience.

Recent assault on sandy hills by pivot irrigation will be more hardship on prairie chicken, but extent can only be estimated. Drought in past seasons has also been tough on birds as range was stressed by overgrazing and stunted grass. Hunters should find improvement in areas, but long trend is downward

What of the many individual faces that are busily ripping the grouse's very existence away from him? Habitat, including native vegetation and shelterbelts planted at great expense and difficulty by earlier residents, all is being removed for the great provider irrigation. There is little doubt how the grouse will fare, yet most of us are helpless to even slow his eradication. The grouse is lost; at best to be pushed farther north. He is again being literally "plowed under" by man's expansion.

During recent times, grouse hunter harvest has averaged about one bird per man per day. It is estimated that as much as 60 percent of their population going into winter could be harvested without hampering the next year's crop. In Nebraska, it is estimated that no more than 5 percent are harvested by hunters—about 50,000 birds.

Grouse hunting is no easy sport. Considerable walking in rugged terrain is what is usually needed. But, grouse hunting is a challenging and rewarding type of hunting, especially when done the way it should be. The hunter learns a lot during those long hours afield, and comes to appreciate the nature and quality of this admirable adversary.

Overall, the season should end on a pleasanter note than in 1976. Last year the hunter harvest was down in all categories from the year before, so that the 1977 season should look good by comparison.

Perhaps the most likely areas to hunt are the large expanses of federal lands, including the open portion of the Valentine National Wildlife Refuge, the U.S. Forest Service areas at Nenzel and Halsey, and the Crescent Lake National Wildlife Refuge. These areas will offer virtually all sharptails. Most chicken hunting will be on private land, and landowners or friends who offer hunting for prairie chickens on their land should be coveted and treated warmly.

SEPTEMBER 1977 19

SEPTEMBER SEASONS

DOVE

THE MOURNING DOVE is the nation's No. 1 game bird by actual harvest figures, and Nebraska ranks third in total dove population. Until recently, however, Nebraska hunters couldn't enjoy the sporting qualities of this tasty, short-lived, but prolific bird.

This fall, dove hunters will take to the field for the third time in as many years, and early indications are good for production of Nebraska-raised birds at the time of this writing (mid-June).

However, Joe Hyland, the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission's migratory game bird specialist, warns it may be too soon to predict the status of the fall dove population.

It's a little tough to predict what the September population of doves will be this early, as most of the birds haven't been hatched yet," says Hyland. "But, because doves have such a tremendous reproductive capacity, it's probably safe to say that Nebraska populations will be good, barring some unforseen calamity, since they are normally good, year after year.

"We will know a little bit more about populations by the July Central Flyway meeting," he continues. "At that time, representatives of all the states in the flyway and Canada, plus

20 NEBRASKAIand Nebraska scattergun enthusiasts will take to the field in early September in pursuit of the sporty dove, for the third time in recent years. Prospects, barring any natural disaster, are for an excellent hunting season in 1977

biologists of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, gather to decide what the status of the populations are and make recommendations to the Central Flyway Council. The Council in turn makes the decisions on the framework of season length and bag limits to be offered to the states."

The mourning dove seems to be one of the few creatures that have adapted well to pressures of civilization. In fact, rather than decreasing in population, they are perhaps as numerous as any time in recent years. The same losses in habitat that have so greatly affected other species of wildlife have not hurt the highly adaptable dove.

The recent drouth was a factor that affected many species of birds. The dove, however, doesn't seem to be affected too much by dry weather, according to Hyland.

"Doves, unlike other upland species of birds, are able to fly some distance to water, and they are highly adaptable when it comes to nesting," he says. "They will nest equally well in the grasslands of the Sandhills, the treetops along the Missouri River, and most places in between."

In nesting, a pair of mourning doves will normally produce a total of three broods per year, with two young per brood. If the nest is broken up by weather or predators, the adults will renest almost immediately.

Mourning doves are short-lived, with over half the year's production being lost to natural causes such as disease and predation. By harvesting a surplus, man may decrease the chance of occurrence of a highly communicable dove disease, trichomoniasis (lesions of the throat). This disease occurs mostly during periods of high concentrations of doves, and is one of nature's methods of taking care of surpluses.

Last year was a good year for both doves and dove hunters in Nebraska, according to Hyland. Production was up from the previous year and the Nebraska harvest was also up slightly from the year before. Again, barring disease or early cold weather, Nebraska hunters can look forward to an excellent dove season.

Doves offer everything that is good about early season hunting. Game is plentiful, weather is agreeable, and the traditional techniques require a minimum investment in time, equipment and physical exertion. About all you need is a place to hunt and some kind of shotgun.

You won't need to use a lot of a farmer's land to hunt doves, something they appreciate at a time when crops are still standing in the field. There's no need to stomp through fields and cover like pheasant hunters do, since the best dove shooting is had by stationary hunters who let the birds come to them.

Three things rule dove activity in any given area—food, water, and a roost. Hunters should keep these in mind when selecting their hunting spot. The birds spend most of the day feeding wherever there are plants that provide the small seeds they favor. Hemp seed is a favorite wild food source for doves, particularly in the east. They also like corn and milo fields that have been cut early for silage, disced wheat stubble, and miscellaneous weed patches.

The birds generally go to water in the morning and again toward eve- ning. That makes a farm pond a good bet in the eastern croplands, and windmills a good choice in ranch country, particularly the first two hours in the morning and the last two before sundown.

Doves generally travel from roost to water to food and back again along rather loosely defined flyways. Usually, 10 minutes of careful observation will indicate where these dove thoroughfares are, and once that is determined, it's just a matter of selecting a good ambush point.

Find a place that offers a good view of dove traffic. You don't need to hide yourself like a deer hunter might, but it's a good idea to be reasonably inconspicuous. Usually, a hunter in drab clothing and sitting against a tree or bush to break his outline is hidden well enough to satisfy doves.

Don't get hunkered down in some kind of thicket or other such blind that will keep you from swinging your shotgun freely when the right time comes. Before game comes along, shoulder your gun and find out just where you can comfortably shoot.

The most important items of the dove hunter's gear are his scattergun and ammunition (many, many shells). Just about any shotgun will do for doves, except for some of the heavy, tightly choked magnums used by some waterfowlers.

A 20-gauge is probably ideal, but a .410 will do the job and a 12-gauge shooting light loads also works nicely. For the 20 and 12, a modified choke is plenty tight, and an improved cylinder boring is probably preferable. Other than a reasonable selection of gauge and choke, the only real important thing about a dove-shootin' iron is that the shooter be comfortable with it and have plenty of confidence in it, for the speedy doves will test that confidence severely.

Ammunition doesn't have to be very potent for doves. Few circumstances would call for anything heavier than No. 7Vi shot, and smaller pellets are usually the norm. Shooters of 12-gauges in particular go to trap loads and other ammunition a little less powerful than what they would shoot at pheasants or ducks.

Nebraskans with a yen to hunt doves should do as much of it as they can as early in the season as possible. Doves are real sissies when it comes to cool weather, and an early fall cold front can run every one of the critters out of the state overnight. But, hunters caught up in the action of Nebraska's excellent dove hunting will greatly enjoy the birds for as long as the weather cooperates.

SEPTEMBER 1977 21

BOATS ON THE FRONTIER

River steamers that stayed afloat made their owners rich

by Paul Andreas
History Teacher, Omaha Westside

THERE IS RECORDED in Nebraska's antiquity a thrilling steamboat history which, as it captures the imagination, takes its place alongside the riverboat stories of the Hudson, Ohio and Mississippi River valleys. True, the Mississippi handled the biggest share of inland shipping, but upon examination, one discovers Missouri River traffic which is surprising.

James Watt had invented a loud, unwieldly contraption called a steam engine in England in 1769. The British first used it to power looms and "iron horses," and barely thought of using it to power a boat.

But, in 1807, a painter-inventor named Robert Fulton designed and successfully demonstrated the first paddle wheeler for America. He named it the "Clermont". Boat builders soon adopted the idea and built ships propelled by the new steam engine. By 1819, Fulton's own threemasted sidewheeier, the "Savannah," was sturdy enough to cross the Atlantic in 29 days.

The designers also looked to the West. The interior of America was wild, unknown, challenging and gigantic. Intrepid businessmen and explorers soon realized that the best way into this vast wilderness was by water. Shippers didn't have much trouble sending a boat from New Orleans to St. Louis, but when they branched northwest, up the Missouri, they ran into many discouraging problems.

The Missouri was a liquid-mud river "too thick to drink and too thin to plow." The average mud-flow past what is now Omaha was 270,000 tons of silt per day. Its rise and fall were unpredictable and could vary between 13,000 and 800,000 cubic feet per second, depending on wet or dry years.

The valley varied from one to 15 miles wide, was over twice as long as the Mississippi, and dropped 8,000 feet during its first 700 miles. The average depth was only seven to nine feet (Omaha to St. Louis) and the lower valley was extremely flat.

Mud banks were always building up and the channel

22 NEBRASKAland

was always changing. Snags were ever present. If Indians weren't waiting for you at some bend of the river, there was always danger of fire, especially on the lumber boats. Whisky sank a third of them, and carelessness another third. Even a tornado could be a threat.

There were over 500 recorded Mississippi-Missouri sinkings during the 19th century. Night travel became restricted above St. Joseph except in bright moonlight.

The first steamer to land on Nebraska soil arrived at Manuel Lisa's trading post (near present Hummel Park) seven miles north of present Omaha. That arrival occurred on September 19,1819, nearly 160 years ago, and a mere 12 years after Fulton launched his first steamboat.

The smoke-belching, serpent-like, steam-driven riverboat, the "Western Engineer," carried the 20-member expedition party of Maj. S. H. Long, who later explored the Rockies. It was built in Pittsburgh, sailed down the Ohio River to St. Louis, and finally up the swirling, muddy Missouri. That steamboat was the first ship to land a white man on the west shores of the Missouri.

The second part of the same expedition was that of Gen. Henry Atkinson's Sixth Infantry. The force left Plattsburgh, N.Y., in 1819 boarded three steamers, the "Jefferson," the "Expedition", and the "Johnson" at St. Louis and began a luckless passage up the Missouri. None of the three ships completed the trip.

The first one steamed 150 miles, the second one 350 miles, and the last one came up river 450 miles. Baggage was transferred to smaller boats and the troops strenuously paddled upstream another 250 miles and arrived at Council Bluffs about October 1, 1821.

The third steamboat attempt on the Missouri came in 1831, and it attained great distance. Nebraskans may be surprised to know that 145 years ago, a 144-ton paddle- wheeler named the "Yellowstone" passed all of Nebraska's river towns. The vessel not only traveled 441 miles of Nebraska's shoreline, but also sailed beyond Yankton and Pierre, S.D.

In fact, the "Yellowstone" went clear to Fort Union in Mandan Indian country, 50 miles beyond what is now Bismarck, N.D.! The "Yellowstone" crew explored some 1,200 miles of the Missouri Valley, carrying a load of provisions and returning with a load of furs.

The 2,305-mile journey from St. Louis to Fort Benton was accomplished by the "Chippiwa" in 1860. Four years later the "Luella" left Fort Benton with $1,250,000 worth of gold and 230 passengers. Three years later, 39 gold boats departed Fort Benton.

After 1832, when the river was proved navigable, and especially after the Mormons arrived at Florence in 1846, the steamboat was to have an exciting and lively history.

Riverboat designers continued to build boats especially adapted to the shallow Missouri. They built hundreds of them of all types; some were cheaply built cargo boats while others were floating palaces. The hulls, averaging three to five feet deep, were built long and wide. The engines lay horizontally instead of upright.

The boats used high-pressure engines which were sometimes exposed on deck because of the heat generated. The smoke stacks were very tall so that the sparks would not cause a fire. In spite of their shallow hulls, many of the boats struck Missouri mud bars and mired for days.

More than one boat was abandoned when spring high water deposited them far from the center channel. Because of the rough treatment, average life of a river boat was only about four seasons.

Eventually, river commerce fell into two categories. The first was the "packet lines." They were the short-haul transports which took their time and carried almost anything from race horses to whisky. They carried few passengers since they traveled slow and made many stops.

In 1858 there were 60 regular packets and 30 to 40 "tramps" on the Missouri. Above Omaha, all packets were called mountain boats. They brought back furs and buffalo hides.

Freight rates varied with distance, location, and the time of year. In 1849, 100 pounds of cargo could be carried 1,750 miles to the Yellowstone River for $8. In 1855, 100 pounds could be sent from St. Louis to Omaha, 600 miles away, for $3.

The second category of river commerce, the "transient lines," carried mostly human transport. These boats followed a regular schedule because the passengers were in a hurry to go somewhere. The Missouri was closed above Omaha from November to March.

A non-cabin passenger, sleeping on deck, could go up river for one cent a mile. Thousands of troops on the way to the frontier took the Missouri road to the West.

During the California, Colorado, and Montana gold rushes of 1849, 1959 and 1864, steamboats carried thousands of passengers to Nebraska river towns. Pioneers then took various stages and trails up the Platte Valley from such towns as Nebraska City, Plattsmouth, Omaha and Florence. Others took the California trail from Independence, Mo., to the valley of the Blue River and on to the Platte.

Every type of personality (Continued on page 45)

SEPTEMBER 1977 23

WHEN IT'S HUNTIN TIME

by Faye Musil It's a special time, made up of all memories jammed together

HUNTING IS a quiet dampness on a frosty morning. Hunting is the ease of good companion- ship. Hunting is the familiarity of a good dog. Hunting is a cold walk.

Hunting is something different to every hunter, for each remembers his own experiences when the subject comes up. It's many things, of course; memories from all experiences sort of crammed together.

It's early spring practice for the spring turkey season. It's that feeling you get when that person who taught you, your father or uncle or big brother, finally has the confidence in you to let you hunt alone. And, you walk to the top of a hill or a ridge, in country where you could get lost, but you know you won't. You're alone, and you wonder if that wild turkey will come to the call; if you'll know a gobbler from a hen after all; if you can even hit what you shoot at. Then you start walking the ridge, and it doesn't matter; it will take care of itself in the end.

It's the mistake you made when you followed a ridge that didn't go where you expected and you wound up in a cold, wet, brush-choked bottom where the only way out was fighting the brush and getting wet up to the knees.

But you know where you are, and you know the bottom leads back to camp. And you really don't care anyway because there's all kinds of time. Morning isn't even over yet, and you have jerky and sunflower seeds and other snacks in your pockets. If it takes a week to get back, you'll still get there.

Besides, there are water bugs in the pools, and a vulture soaring over the ridge. Maybe you'll zigzag up and down the canyon wall so you won't miss anything. But then, maybe you won't. You start seeing (Continued on page 28)

EXCHANGE HUNTERS

Many years of hosting each other has firmed a relationship that started as hunt but ended as friends

Photos and text by Faye Musil

I LIKED DONALD DUCK when I was a kid," said Dick Himbarger, "and I started by imitating him." From Donald Duck, Dick graduated to wild waterfowl, which he calls with skill that is seldom equaled. Using only his own vocal apparatus, he can turn a fly-by flock into a stop-and-see bunch without any mechanical device whatsoever.

According to hunting companions Ben Meckel and Ed Wence, Himbarger calls in even unreachable ducks. "I can't do Donald anymore, though," Dick confesses. A California state trooper and Tule Lake fishing guide, Himbarger doubles (or triples) as a pilot, as well. His 1976 Nebraska visit took him into the airport at Burwell with Hawaiians Ed G. Wence and his son, Ed W., on a Sunday evening in November.

Wence is a Nebraska pheasant hunting veteran of many seasons. Why hunt Nebraska? 'That big-footed galoot over there," Ed answers briefly, grinning and nodding at Meckel, his host.

The exchange of hospitality between the two hunters seems to be the real reason for yearly hunts, especially since the "Shanghai roosters" weren't being fully cooperative that season. If birds in the bag were the real reason for the visit, it could only be considered a loss. By Tuesday afternoon, only three roosters had succumbed to the six hunters' two-day efforts.

On the other hand, it seemed that all hands had given up worrying about birds in the competition to out-host each other. Meckel, for example, had placed fancy fruit baskets in each of his guests' rooms.

"But that's only in return for the orchids my wife and I found on our pillows when we visited Hawaii," Meckel said.

A game dinner Monday evening was dominated by Hawaiian mountain sheep.

'That's a well-traveled sheep," Wence pointed out. "Ben shot it in Hawaii, then had it shipped back to Burwell. So, I had to come all the way from Hawaii to sample it."

The two-day hunt had been planned as a mixed-bagger with pheasants and ducks as primary targets. A duck blind on a small pond near the North Loup River was the scene for early morning and late afternoon action, while nearby cornfields and marshes provided hunting later in the morning and into the afternoon.

Monday morning started before dawn with Meckel, Bill Manasil, a Burwell businessman, Himbarger, Ken Zimmerman of Loup City, the Game and Parks Commission chairman, and the two Wences in the blind. Himbarger's calling brought in a total of one mallard drake,

which Meckel downed. Himbarger passed up a 70-point hen.

The lack of waterfowl left time, though, for getting reacquainted and exchanging new yarns. It also left time for watching the sunrise touch frosty weed clumps with sparkles of light. Ice crystals formed prisms that touched what would become a mundane noontime landscape with pinpoints of exotic dancing color.

As the little pond picked up the morning's rosy, golden glow, it became a vast mirror, reflecting in sharp detail the scattered decoy set-up in crisp, vibrant color backed by sky blue.

Manasil's young Lab, Nemo, shattered that mirror calm with an impatient attempt to retrieve the decoys. "After all," he seemed to say quizzically when reprimanded, "retrieving's my job, and I haven't done a day's work yet."

By 10 a.m. the crew was ready to give up on waterfowl hunting, with so few birds moving, and turn their attention

 

instead to pheasant. Several roosters had been crowing invitingly in a nearby cornfield.

Ray Goehring, the landowner from whom Meckel leases hunting land, joined the crew while Manasil slipped off into Burwell to attend to some business. While still forming up for a pass through the corn, the elder Wence was startled by a covey of quail.

Not a shot was fired, much to Himbarger and Zimmerman's amusement. The only detectable reply to their jibes, though, was some disgusted muttering about new shotguns and weird safeties.

A pass through the corn produced no roosters; only the harvest-time scent of dry grain and damp earth, and a chance to warm up from the chill of the blind by walking.

"I think we're evolving a new breed of pheasant," Zimmerman volunteered sagely. "The roosters that have survived hunting from all Nebraska's past seasons have been the sit-tight and double-back kind of birds. They're the ones that breed the following spring and thus they perpetuate their own characteristics."

"Those roosters," he concluded, "are all behind us."

A short conference resulted in the group splitting, with half working north and the others working south between the corn and the river.

There, the men bagged a pair of quail; Himbarger credited with one and the younger Wence dropping the other. The dogs had gone with the other party, so locating the birds proved to be a difficult task, but one that was finally accomplished.

"We put a dollar in the kitty for taking hens," Zimmerman quipped when the two groups of hunters met back at the blind, and everyone looked at Himbarger, whose quail had been a female.

Himbarger and both Wences decided to walk the trees along the river one more time to pick up any singles they might locate. That stroll produced two more quail before lunch, and a comment from Ed W. about ice patterns on the river making beautiful black-and-white photo material.

A leisurely noon break was followed by some hunting on the south side of the North Loup River. There, the party followed the cornpicker. Pheasants were plentiful but flushing wild—or doubling back as Zimmerman had previously noted. Nemo, hunting his first season, was ranging too far ahead of the party while Max, Meckel's veteran Lab, was performing steadily.

A pass through river marshes produced some excitement as young Wence broke through the ice. When the NEBRASKAIand photographer broke through, as well, there were gallery complaints that there's no justice in snapping photos of one person's misfortune while refusing to give up the camera when the situation is reversed.

Though the hunters bagged no birds in the afternoon, the dogs accounted for two. A pair of wounded mallard hens had taken refuge on a little pool of still-open water in the marsh. The Labs located and retrieved them, but only after several minutes of splashing and struggling.

"It's too bad the hunters who wounded those birds didn't have dogs," Zimmerman remarked. 'They sure prevent leaving a lot of cripples in the field."

The party was divided in late afternoon between blind and marsh, but there was no action except one hen mallard that over-flew the marsh without losing even a

single tailfeather.

The second day's hunting began at six with coffee and rolls. Again the party was split between blind and marsh. A lone mallard hen came into the decoys. Meckel's shot wounded her, and produced a problem for the dogs as she submerged in the little pond and hid under a log. Some 15-minutes' search, however, brought her hide-out to light.

Apparently embarrassed by the long search, Nemo again began retrieving decoys.

In the uproar that followed, Dr. Murray Markley of Ord, who had joined the hunt that morning, made a grinning remark to Wence as they both waited in the blind. "You know," he said, "Ben Meckel might just come late for surgery, but I don't expect him to ever be late to go hunting." Before starting again on pheasants, the men gathered for a hearty second breakfast of coffee, hamburgers, apples and rolls. The blind was pressed into

 

service as kitchen, and the foot-warming catalytic heater as stove.

By afternoon, Nemo was back in the kennel with a bit of experience under his belt, and Max had reinforcements in Stoney, Meckel's younger Lab. The pair worked well together as the afternoon's bag attested. Wence and his safety were apparently getting along better, too, as he bagged one of the three roosters taken that day. Zimmerman scored on a second, but no one could remember for sure who got the third.

That evening, with more waterfowl moving than on the previous day, the men harvested two more ducks; one gadwall and one mallard; both drakes.

"In Hawaii, we have a superstition," said Wence that evening. "We consider it bad luck to give somebody something without getting something in return."

That superstition could keep Meckel and Wence returning to each other's territory year after year to partake of one another's hospitality.

Hunting is decoys on a pond, a squirrel chattering, even a farmer talking about crops, rain and habitat

(Continued from page 24)

things you hadn't noticed before. Simple things like the long profile of a pintail; shreds of brush where a deer polished itching antlers; a bared spot where quail dusted themselves.

There's the way some decoys and the clouds are reflected in the frozen mirror of a thin ice film when it's already too late for good hunting, but you'll wait awhile anyway just in case the ducks can't tell time. And that silly pup that got bored with waiting and plunged into the pond to retrieve the decoys.

There's the squeaky call of the whitefront and the lower-pitched honk of Canadas. There's the whistle of a goldeneye's wings.

The way the snow glitters on the curved stems of last year's dried grasses when the sun's just coming up, and there's no way on earth you'd drag yourself out of a warm bed at this ungodly hour-but you're glad you did, even if there isn't a duck flying.

It's hunting ducks for the first time and being too excited to fire a shot into the big flock of mallards that passed right by the blind. It's watching a friend who has hunted many seasons and didn't fire either, but mumbled something about a faulty safety-although it worked perfectly later in the day.

It's knowing that you died and went to heaven when you return to a warm house and dry socks. It's watching a seasoned hunter who said he's going to show the young'uns how to sneak a duck, then gets his coat caught on a door handle and rolls under the van. Good thing he was smart enough to leave his shotgun in the back.

It's watching a friend disappear into a brushpile that he was "rearranging" to help the rabbits find their way out.

Hunting is sitting out a high wind in the lee of an old barn, exchanging stories. "Why, it used to get so windy out here, we were afraid to tie up our horses when we went into the saloon. Wind would blow the dirt right out from under 'em and they'd be hung to death by the time we'd finished our beer."

Hunting is a squirrel, peering around a limb about four feet away, then jerking his tail and chattering at you before he scurries off, leaping from limb to limb with blurring speed.

Hunting is a farmer talking about the crops, and the price of wheat, and wonderin' if it'll ever rain; and you wonder, too, for the land's gettin' dry and people are havin' a hard time, not to mention the animals. It's discussing that brushy old draw that used to hold a couple coveys of quail, but seems like they're scarcer'n hen's teeth now.

Hunting is a good dog, zigzagging ahead of you, nose all business, but coming back to check on you every now and again just to make sure everything's still O.K.

It's the flash of iridescent reds and golds and bronzes when that old rooster that's been running you ragged finally gets up. It's the snap shot that downed him, and feeling proud of a clean kill but a little sad that he isn't goin' to fly anymore. But you know there will be more, if they just have a place to live.

It's hunting pheasants along the edge of a cornfield only to have a covey of quail explode right at your feet, and trying to pick out one of the little brown-and-white whirlwinds to shoot at.

It's sitting around on the back porch, plucking the day's brace of ducks or skinning those pheasants, and hashing over the hunt. "You know, it's gettin' harder and harder to find any quail anymore, and the pheasants seems to have moved back to China. Gettin' harder all the time to find a place to hunt, too. I know all these guys in four counties, but they haven't got anything growing anymore for birds to hide in."

It's the slow realization that you're talking more and more about the good old days and wonderin' about tomorrow.

"Why, when I was a kid, growing up on the farm, we used to walk right outside the house in the spring and listen to bobwhites calling back and forth. We got so we could imitate them pretty good.

"Don't know what happened to that covey of quail. Trees are still there. Bigger, of course. All black in there, even in the daytime. No little brushy seedlings. No edge anymore, just trees and farmyard. That's probably it: need some bushes at the edge of the trees.

"Used to have a little game preserve in the middle pasture. Game Commission helped us plant it. Wild plum and cedar and I don't remember what else. Fence got old, though, and the cattle broke it up pretty bad. No time for replacing fence."

You realize that all the old neighbors used to have shelterbelts, and maybe a few trees along the creek bottoms, and "dirty" fencerows. But there aren't so many neighbors now. Man can't make it on a section of land like he used to—not if he wants his family to have all the latest things. Some of 'em just moved away, or the old folks died and their kids sold out or leased the land. The old houses just fall down, bit by bit, until they're torn down. No more kids to run in and out, slamming doors. Nobody to talk to about hunting the north 40 or the price of wheat. No hunting on the north 40 anyway; no cover.

Shelterbelts make way for wheat or corn. Fencerows come down as fields get bigger. Can't spare the ground for waterways any more. Just let the silt, the topsoil, run down the hills and off into the creeks—those that have any water.

Makes you feel a little sad inside thinkin' what happened to the kids that used to poke around in the trees that dad or granddad labored so hard over, looking for bird nests and squirrel nests, and baby rabbits. But then, whatever happened to those trees?

Nope, things shore aren't like they used to be. You get your shotgun out and shine it up nice, and go out to the old place you used to hunt. Not a tree around anymore.

You go talk to the farmer and you find him in the closed cab of his tractor. He has no idea where the game might be. Doesn't notice it much in his air-conditioned cab. Shakes his head a little sadly. Shore misses the pheasants, but doesn't miss the dust and grit in his eyes and teeth, and the melting down into the tractor seat, and the sore, aching (Continued on page 48)

SEPTEMBER 1977 29

NEBRASKAland's HUNTING ALMANAC

Build a Portable Blind

Waterfowl blinds can be as simple or as elaborate as you care to make them; it really doesn't make much difference as long as the blind blends in with the surroundings. A good portable blind can be made with a section of snow fence and a couple of metal rods. Cover the fence with can-vas and chicken wire, or use as is, weaving natural grass, willows or cattails between the wire openings for camouflage. Arrange the fence in a circle around posts and push or drive them into the ground.

Don't Stand in the Mud

Wood pallets make good floors in blinds situated in muddy areas. If the first one sinks into the mud, put another on top. Mud tracked onto the boards can be scraped off into the cracks of the pallet. Used pallets can often be picked up for less than a dollar at lumber yards and warehouses.

Carry Your Seat with You

A handy seat to carry into the blind is a five-gallon drywall bucket with lid, which doubles as a carrying case for shells, lunch, binoculars, raincoat, etc. A good seat cushion that also works as a fanny warmer is one of the commercially made "hot seats" that reflect body heat.

Keep Decoys from Tangling

Lots of things are used for decoy anchors, but most of them are less than perfect. Those that simply hang loose tend to unwind and tangle up with each other. To remedy this, cut an old bicycle tube into rubber hands about a half-inch wide, and tie onto the cord near the anchor. Then, wind the cord around the decoy's neck and slip the rubber band over the head.

Decoy Anchors

You can make your own lead anchors that slip over the decoy's head if you have access to a router and a gas stove. Other things you need are an iron kettle, ladle, scrap lead and a hardwood board. Rout out several molds in the board, making sure the loop formed is big enough to go around the decoy head. Then, simply melt lead in the kettle, pour into the mold with the dipper, let cool until lead hardens, remove the anchors, and repeat process. If you do this indoors, have plenty of ventilation as lead fumes are toxic.

Keep Records for Future Use

Some hunters keep a record of duck hunting days afield including species bagged, type of day it was, temperature, numbers seen, etc. Most peak waterfowl migrations will occur within the same one or two-week period, year after year, and good records help determine patterns of migrations in your area.

DECOY BAGS

Make your own carrying bags for decoys out of big burlap bags. Use two bags and tie them together with a piece of rope. Throw the rope over your shoulder and carry them with one bag in front and one in back, leaving both hands free to carry other things.

PICKING DUCKS

If you pick your ducks, it is much easier done when they are still warm. Take along a plastic trash bag and dry pick them. This makes the cleaning chore a lot easier than when you get home, and helps pass the time while waiting for another flight of birds. Don't forget to leave the head and one wing on the birds for identification as required by law.

Build a Blind for Utility

Don't overlook a few basic items that may make the hunt more enjoyable, when building a semi-permanent duck blind. Some kind of shelf in front is a handy place to put extra shells and other things to keep them dry. A rack for guns keeps them from falling over, getting scratched in the process, and is an added safety factor. A few strategically placed nails can be used to hang calls, binoculars and extra clothing.

When hunting diving ducks around lakes and reservoirs, watch their patterns of feeding and flight, then set up accordingly. Once you find a feeding 30 NEBRASKAIand area, you can chase them off and they will often come back. Divers tend to fly along shorelines, often within gun range.

MAKE CHEAP DIVER DECOYS

Divers aren't as spooky about decoys as puddle ducks, and often you can get by with flat-black-painted decoys or plastic jugs strung out in a line. Divers usually come into your decoys the first pass or go on by, as they rarely circle. Duck identification is important here, as you have to take them the first time and seldom get a second chance.

In hunting divers, and even puddle ducks, you often don't need a blind if you can keep still. The secret is to blend in with the surroundings and not move. The slightest movement of a hand, gun barrel or upturned face is often enough to send a flock into orbit. Always wear a cap with a bill on it and keep your face covered. Watch the birds out of the corner of your eye.

If you are having trouble retrieving ducks that fall in deep water or on weak ice, and you don't have a boat or dog, take along a fishing outfit and a heavy lure next time, and try to snag it. You might find out whether your casting ability is as good as you think it is.

When hunting mallards from a sandbar, try a dozen or so field mallard decoys on the bar close to your floating set. These are usually bigger than floaters and are much easier to see from a distance. In setting out decoys, try to leave an opening, large enough for a big flock to land, directly in front of the blind. Ducks like company, but they don't like to land close to other birds and will leave or land outside the decoys if there isn't enough room inside.

Take Along Some Extra Clothes

An extra set of hunting clothes left in your car might just save the day if you happen to step in a hole and "take water" in your waders. A large plastic trash bag could help you stay dry if you get out to the blind and find that you have a leak in one of your waders. Take the boot off and slip your foot into the bag, then put the boot back on.

Pick-up Your Trash

If ducks are interested but flare off too soon, check the area around your blind. Anything that looks out of place can spook waterfowl. It's a good idea to periodically gather up empty shell cases and any paper or other trash, and when you leave the blind, take it with you.

Field Dressing

When you are hunting early season game such as squirrel, dove and grouse, take along a cooler with ice and field dress game as soon as possible. A plastic jug of water and some rags come in handy to clean up with afterwards. If you prefer to hunt the lazy man's way and sit and wait for either squirrels or doves, then take along a five- gallon bucket to use as a seat and game cooler. Just stick a styrofoam minnow bucket inside, add some ice, and you can cool your game immediately.

Find Wounded Birds

If you drop a bird in heavy cover, immediately walk to where you think it fell. If it isn't there, place a hankerchief or your hat or something at the spot, then search the area around the marker in an ever-widening circle. Look for loose feathers, then search up-wind from them. Generally, wounded grouse, doves and quail will try to hide rather than run, while pheasants will usually do the opposite. If you have a dog, let him check the area out before you move in and confuse him with your scent.

If you don't have a dog, quail can sometimes be hard to find. Generally, you'll find them along the edges of corn or milo, and fairly close to plum thickets or stands of dense timber.

SEPTEMBER 1977 31  

The time of day is often important, and you'll generally have an easier time finding them during the mid- day hours after they feed. If you scat- ter a covey and lose sight of the sin- gles, wait several minutes and listen for them to start calling as they regroup.

Bug Repellent

September weather can get pretty warm and gnats can drive you batty if you forget to bring bug dope. If you can't find any in the local stores, try some vanilla extract, available at any grocery store. It works.

If you are going to do a lot of walk- ing early in the season, don't wear wa- terproof hunting boots as your feet will perspire heavily and blisters could re- sult. It's also a good idea to take along an extra pair of dry socks and change them at lunch time.

Cactus Remedy

Take along a pair of long-nose pliers next time you take your dog afield in grouse country. A nose or paw full of cactus spines can turn the best dog into a limping liability and the pliers will prove useful in pulling out the spines.

DOVE HUNT EARLY FOR DOVE

Doves are early migrants out of the state, often leaving in late August and early September. Plan your dove hunts accordingly, as a cold front will often push most birds out of an area. Look for more birds to follow, however, as those from the north come through.

Check Crops for Food

If you are having a hard time finding doves but you know there are some around, then check the bird's crop when you finally get one. With a little practice you 11 be able to find out where and on what they are feeding. Common foods used are hemp, wheat, corn, and foxtail

Pass Shooting Doves

One of the more productive and sporting methods of hunting doves is by pass shooting them as they go from feeding and watering areas to the roost. Try not to hunt too close to the roost, however, as you might drive the birds out of the area. For the same reason, don't hunt one area exclusively. Try an area for a few days, then give it a rest and hunt another to allow new birds to cpme in and establish patterns of feeding and roosting.

Decoys can be productive for doves at certain times of the day, provided you know a little bit about the bird's habits and hunt in the right areas. With a little ingenuity you can make your own out of paper mache' or wood, or you can buy commercial decoys. A half dozen will be plenty. Place them where they are silhouetted against the sky either in a dead tree or on a fence, and find yourself a nice shady spot nearby. You can build a blind, but it really isn't necessary.

HOW TO DRY WET BOOTS

One of the slickest ways to dry a pair of boots in a hurry is with a portable hair dryer or vacuum cleaner with the hose on the exhaust. The most important thing is to get warm air down into the toes. If you are drying rubber boots with a hair dryer, watch them closely so they don't get too hot, as heat can ruin them in a hurry.

Next time you wear out a pair of waders or hip boots, don't just toss them in the garbage. Cut the feet off and save the rest for hunting in rain or heavy morning dew when you have to walk through wet grass.

In an area where beggar's lice, stick-tites and other nuisance weeds stick to your clothing, don an old pair of corduroy pants. They are one of the few types of clothing that seem to be impervious to the little "beggars".

HOW TO AGE A SQUIRREL

The age of a squirrel can make a big difference in how you cook it, and the easiest way to tell age is by the shape of the tail. If the tail is narrow and pointed, as opposed to round and bushy, then it is probably a young squirrel. Older ones should be parboiled before frying or stewing, to make them tender.

If you hunt pheasants alone and they tend to run out ahead in weedy draws and shelterbelts, take along a transistor radio next time. Set it at one end of the area and circle around and hunt toward it. The sound of the radio might just be enough to make the birds hunker down in the weeds instead of running out the end.

32 NEBRASKAland GIVE QUAIL A BREAK

Later on in the season when it's cold, plan on ending your quail hunting at least an hour before sunset. The reason is to allow broken coveys to get back together and into good roosting cover before dark so that they have a better chance of survival. It's also a good idea not to shoot into coveys with fewer than 8 to 10 birds, as fewer birds may not survive.

On the other hand, too large coveys going into the winter often have smaller birds, which can also decrease the survival rate.

How to Skin a Squirrel

Skinning squirrels can be a snap, once you try it a few times. Some hunters make a circular cut through the skin completely around the midsection, then pull the two halves apart, but it often takes a strong man to get the job done. Another way that is a little easier involves cutting a v- shaped notch down the back of the hindquarters to the tail. Then cut through the tail bone, leaving the tail attached to the skin. Step on the tail, and while grasping the hind legs, pull upwards, stripping most of the skin off in the process. The rest comes off easily.

Finding Squirrel

Look for squirrels in their feeding areas early and late in the day. Best areas are near oak, hickory and walnut trees in forested areas. Look for gnawed shells near the base of the trees. The edge of a cornfield adjacent to a windbreak is also a good place to find bushytails, as are osage orange or "hedge" rows in some areas.

When you clean your animal, don't use water to wash out the body cavity unless it was shot in the intestines. Instead, wipe out the inside with a dry rag and let the dried blood form a protective glaze. If you put the liver or other parts in plastic bags for transporting, make sure they are kept cool to eliminate spoilage. Don't drape your game over the hood, and if you must put it in the trunk, leave the lid open for adequate ventilation.

Some hunters use a small-bore shotgun for squirrel, but most avid hunters use a scope-sighted .22 caliber rifle and shoot for the head. Usu- ally this ensures either a clean kill or a clean miss, especially if ranges are 50 yards or under. Find yourself a leaning tree in a feeding area and keep still and wait for the critters to come to you. Squirrels often travel in pairs, so after you shoot, don't be in a hurry to move as you might get another shot.

Another trick you might try is to scratch the buttplate of your rifle with your fingernail several times. This will often arouse the curiosity of any nearby squirrels and they'll come to investigate.

—Archery— Antelope Hunting

One of the hardest animals to take with the bow is an antelope, simply because of the animal's habits and hangouts. You'll find more antelope on the open plains than in broken country, but it's a lot easier to stalk them when you can take advantage of the terrain. Look for country with a few hills, washouts, and depressions. Use scrub brush, weeds or anything that you can put between them and yourself. Stick to lone bucks or does, as they are a lot easier to stalk.

If you crawl as close as you can and are still too far, one old Indian trick that still occasionally works is the "waving flag" technique.

Archery Tips

If you hunt big game with a bow, practice plenty before you go afield. If you use a bow quiver, practice with it on so that you get used to it Carry along a small stone or sharpening device and touch up your broadheads each day and after each shot Cover your bow limbs with a cloth cover or tape to cut down on reflection. If you plan on hunting from a tree, then also practice from the tree.

DEER HUNTING TIPS

Deer, like most animals, are creatures of habit. Try to get to your hunting area before the season opens and scout it out for deer sign. If you find a good area, stay with it. Youll be a lot better off than moving around to new areas. Also, ask the landowner where the deer are. Hell generally have a pretty good idea of where they hang out at certain times of the day.

SEPTEMBER 1977 33

Adventures with Whiskers the prarie vole

OWLS

JUST THE THOUGHT OF THESE SCARY CREATURES IS ENOUGH TO MAKE THE HAIR ON ALL MY TOES STAND ON END

WHOoooo's that up there? Hoot! Sure I give a hoot. Oh, it's you, the neighborhood great horned owl. Glad to make your acquaintance. If you don't mind, I'll pass on the handshake. I'll just say hello from down here. It's not that I don't trust you, but I must say you and your friend off to the side don't look all that friendly. Sure, I know everyone has to eat. I just don't want to be your midnight snack. Why don't you try grass seeds sometime? You might learn to like them. What do you mean your reputation is undeserved? You eat mice and voles don't you? I thought so! I rest my case.

 

What do you mean it's good for us! Of all the gall! Well, sure we tend to have big families, and several in one year, but that's none of your business. What do you mean, "the environment is everyone's business?" How dare you compare voles to human beings! May a crow eat your eggs! Pardon me, that wasn't a kind thing to say.

I suppose you have a point. You are wise birds. No, I still don't want to shake hands. Say, I was thinking about taking a walk; are many of your friends out tonight?

You're kidding. There are nine kinds of owls in Nebraska, and thousands of you great horned owls! Holy smokes! Maybe I'll stay home and read a book. Well, as long as I'm not going out, tell me, are all those other owls as common as your kind? Whoa! Slow down! Let me see if I got this right. The barn owl, snowy owl, barred owl, long-eared owl, short-eared owl and saw-whet owl are not very common. Well, I must say, things are sounding a little better. (Continued on page 38)

Dove Delicacies

No matter how you cut it, this newest game bird is great afield and "atable"

by Liz Huff

MOURNING DOVES are tricky little speedsters that have been known to drive hunters absolutely crazy in the field. What to do with them once in the bag should pose no problem, though; there are any number of ways to prepare these tasty little birds.

Like their cousins the pigeons, doves have dark meat with an excellent flavor. Unlike pigeons, which tend to be tough, the smaller doves are more tender. They should be handled much as you would any other game birds. Except for extra hungry folks or big eaters, 1 to 2 doves should serve one person nicely.

As with all game birds, doves should be plucked, drawn, cleaned, and cooled as soon as possible. To avoid tearing the skin, dry-pluck while still warm, pulling the feathers in the direction they grow. Remove pin feathers with tweezers. Singe the down with lighted, twisted newspaper, being careful not to burn the skin. Transport the birds in open air or on ample ice in a cooler. Refrigerate them for two to three days before cooking, or freeze for later use.

For most recipes, plucking is recommended rather than skinning, since the skin helps retain the moisture of the meat, preserving flavor. Like other meats, doves can be prepared as elaborately or as simply as the cook desires. Elere's a sampling of taste-tempting dove recipes guaranteed to set your mouth watering.

DOVE BREASTS STROGANOFF 12 to 18 dove breasts 1 medium onion 1 can celery soup 1 can mushrooms 1/2 cup sauterne oregano rosemary salt, pepper Kitchen Bouquet (for color) 1 cup sour cream Place meat in large baking dish; do not crowd. Dice and saute onion; mix with remaining ingredients except sour cream. Pour over meat. Cover lightly with foil. Bake in 325° over for 1 hour, turning occasionally. Add sour cream, stir. Bake uncovered for 20 minutes. Serve over combined white and wild rice or over noodles. You can add rice to the dove breasts and make a casse- role, if you prefer. BRAISED DOVES 6 dove breasts salt, pepper flour cooking fat Shake dove breasts in paper bag with seasoned flour. Brown on all sides in fat. Remove breasts. Leave 3 tablespoons fat in skillet. Sift in about 2 tablespoons flour and brown, stirring. Stir in salt, pepper, and water to make gravy. Place browned doves in gravy and cook over low heat until tender. DOVES COUNTRY STYLE 6 doves flour 6 strips bacon salt, pepper 1 1/2 cups heavy cream 2 tsps. chopped parsley Flour birds lightly. Cook bacon in large skillet. Remove and keep warm. Saute doves in bacon fat, browning well on all sides. Reduce heat and continue cooking until tender, about 12 minutes. Season to taste. Remove doves to hot platter and garnish with the bacon. Spoon out all but 3 tablespoons fat. Add 4 tablespoons flour and blend well. Cook 3 minutes. Gradually stir in cream and cook, stirring until smooth and thickened. Season well with salt and pepper. Add chopped parsley. SHERRY-ROASTED DOVES 14 to 16 doves salt, pepper flour 1/2 cup salad oil 1/2 cup chopped green onions 1 1/2 cups water 1 cup sherry 1/4 cup chopped parsley Season doves with salt and pepper. Roll in flour. Place in oil in heavy roaster. Bake in 400° oven until brown. Add onions, water and sherry; cover. Bake until tender, basting with sherry occasionally. Add parsley to gravy just before serving. (Continued on page 42) 40 NEBRASKAIand SEPTEMBER 1977 41

DOVE DELICACIES

(Continued from page 40) OVEN-BRAISED DOVES Brown birds Dutch oven in seasoned flour. Place in or casserole. Sprinkle with finely chopped celery, onion and parsley. Add 1 can mushrooms, plus liquid. Dissolve 2 or 3 chicken bouillon cubes in 2 cups water and pour over doves. Cover and cook in 325° oven VA to VA hours. Pour Vi cup white wine over doves the last 15 minutes of cooking. DOVE POT PIE Simmer 3-4 dressed doves until tender in salted water. Remove bones and cut meat into pieces. In separate kettle place 2 carrots, 1 large onion, 1 potato, all diced, and cook until tender in a minimum of water. When doves and vegetables are cooked, combine and place in 3-inch-deep baking dish, using most of the liquid. Top with "oven biscuit topping" (below) and bake in 375° oven until biscuits are done, about 20 minutes. Oven Biscuit Topping 2 cups flour 2 1/2 tsps. baking powder 1/4 tsp. salt 2 tbls. shortening 1 scant cup milk Combine dry ingredients. Cut in shortening. Add milk. Roll dough, cut biscuits and place on top of doves and vegetables. Vegetable-meat mixture should be hot before placing biscuits on top. COLD DOVE PIE 6 doves, halved 4 tbls. butter flour 1 tsp. salt 1/2 tsp. white pepper juice of one lemon 2 cups sherry 1 can mushrooms, drained 4 hard-boiled eggs, sliced parsley Draw, clean, and dry doves. Melt butter, add birds and cook until light brown; then pack them in a 4-quart glass baking dish or any stewing pot that can be tightly covered. Cover with cold water and slowly bring to boiling point. Simmer gently 5 to 6 hours or until done. Remove from pot. Thicken the gravy with a little flour until the consistency of thin stew, when cold; it will gel thicker. Add salt, pepper and lemon juice to taste; when cool, add sherry. Place birds in a baking dish, scattering in mushrooms and egg slices; add chopped parsley. Cover with gravy, then with pastry (below). Bake in 350° oven 1 hour. Cool. Refrigerate overnight. Pastry 2 tsps. baking powder 3 cups flour 1 tsp. salt 1/2 cup lard 1 1/2 cups milk Sift the baking powder, flour, and salt together. Rub in lard with the tips of the fingers; mix in milk with a knife or spoon. Roll out and cover dish; brush with milk. This pie, with a plain salad, makes a substantial meal. HUNTER'S DOVE 3 to 4 doves 1 qt. white wine 2 whole peppercorns 1 tsp. salt 2 cloves 1/2 tsp. sage lemon peel 2 tbls. olive oil Place doves in a casserole with the white wine, peppercorns, salt, cloves, sage, lemon peel, and olive oil. Cover dish with aluminum foil and cook in 325° oven for 3 hours. BRAISED DOVES Clean, wash and dry doves. Salt and pepper and dredge in flour. Fry in hot frying pan in deep fat. When brown, remove to baking pan. Sprinkle birds with flour again, cover with water, and bake in 350° oven for 35 minutes. (Continued on page 44)

42 NBRASKAland

(Continued from page 42) DOVES IN FOIL 6 doves thick-sliced bacon 4 medium potatoes, quartered 1 onion, quartered 1 carrot, cut in 1-inch pieces 2 slices green pepper, diced fine salt and pepper 2 tbls. Worcestershire sauce Place doves, breast up, on individual pieces of aluminum foil, 12 inches square. Place Vi strip thick bacon over breast of each dove. Place vegetables around doves on foil; salt and pepper to taste. Sprinkle Worcestershire sauce over doves. Fold foil to seal. Bake in 325° oven for 90 minutes. GAME PIE 6 to 8 doves 1 qt. water salt and pepper 1/4 cup minced parsley 1/2 onion, chopped 2 whole cloves 1/4 lb. salt pork, diced 2 tbls. flour 2 tbls. fat 2 cups cooked potatoes, diced Clean birds thoroughly and split into halves. Cover with water and heat to boiling. Skim. Add salt, pepper, parsley, onions, cloves and salt pork. Simmer until tender, keeping birds covered with water. When birds are tender, thicken liquid with flour and heat gravy to boiling. Add fat, remove from heat and cool. Place birds in casserole, add potatoes and gravy. Cover with crust, slashed in the center, and bake in hot oven (425°) 15 to 20 minutes or until browned. DOVES ITALIENNE 4 doves garlic salt, pepper, flour 1/4 cup olive oil or salad oil 1 16-oz. can tomato sauce 3 tbls. chopped parsley 1/4 cup beer 4 med. onions, sliced oregano Sprinkle doves inside and out with salt, pepper and flour. Heat oil in skillet; add doves and brown on all sides. Add tomato sauce, beer, onions and oregano. Bring to boil. Cover and cook over low heat 30 to 45 minutes or until tender. Just before serving, stir in parsley. This dish is delicious served over parmesan spaghetti with a green salad and Italian bread. SMOTHERED DOVES For 6 to 8 doves. Pluck doves (do not skin). Brown in butter or drippings in pressure cooker. Salt and pepper to taste. When birds are evenly browned, add a stalk of celery cut into thirds, a diced onion, and a diced green pepper. To a cup of water, add 2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce and pour into pressure cooker. Put lid on cooker and pressure cook for 20 minutes. Return pressure to normal and serve. If you prefer gravy to broth, roll birds in flour before browning. DOVES IN WINE 4 doves 4 tbls. butter 4 tbls. flour salt, pepper 4 slices bacon 2 cups cold milk 1 1/2 cups white wine Melt butter in double-boiler top or small heavy saucepan. Stir in flour. Blend well over low heat. Stir in milk. To keep sauce smooth, use wire whisk. Bring slowly to boiling point. Cook two minutes, stirring constantly. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Wrap each dove in a slice of bacon. Cover doves with sauce in deep pan. Bake in 350° oven about 1 hour. Pour Va cup wine over doves, stirring into sauce. Continue to bake until done. Pour remainder of wine over doves and serve. Sauce can be made ahead of time and kept refrigerated. GAME BIRD CASSEROLE This could be the best of all methods of preparing game birds. Clean 6 doves.

Halve, and season with salt and pepper and roll in flour. Brown pieces slowly in hot fat and pack in casserole or Dutch oven. Put 1 can each of condensed cream of chicken and cream of mushroom soup in skillet where meat was browned. Add 1 soup can of hot water and stir over heat until blended. Pour mixture over meat and bake slowly until tender—1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours. The gravy forms automatically. May also be cooked on top of the stove. DOVES WITH DRESSING Pick, do not skin birds. Save giblets. Dressing 6 cups white breadcrumbs (pull-apart fresh bread) 1 1/2 tsp. poultry seasoning pinch sage 1 stick butter 3/4 cup diced celery 1/2 cup diced onion 4 eggs 3 cups milk Va tsp. black pepper 1 tsp. salt Mix bread crumbs with seasonings. Saute celery and onion in butter, add to wellbeaten eggs and milk. Combine with bread crumbs. Stuffing will be soupy but will increase in bulk when cooked. Lightly stuff doves, place in well-buttered baking dish. Breast of each dove may be stripped with small piece of bacon. Place remainder of dressing around doves and bake covered 2 1/2 hours in slow oven. May be prepared several hours before baking and stored in cool place. Allow two doves for each person. Dressing recipe will serve eight amply. For gravy, boil and dice giblets and use in your favorite turkey gravy recipe, substituting butter for drippings. Use chicken bouillon cube for added flavor.

BOATS ON THE FRONTIER

(Continued from page 23)

could be found on the various riverboats. The "Yellowstone" of 1832 carried the great painter of the West, George Catlin. A year later, Prince Maximillian, from a house in Rhenish, Prussia, and the Swiss artist Charles Bodmer, were aboard. Omaha's Joslyn Museum holds virtually all of the Bodmer paintings.

Other boats carried thousands of rough fur traders, miners, gold seekers, Mormons, military personnel and the usual immigrants. There were a few gamblers who lived on the larger steamboats and paid their board and room from their "earnings."

The big side or stern wheelers were proud-looking boats, invariably painted white and trimmed in red or black. Always there was the rumble of engines. On a tramp steamer, the passenger quarters, ladies' and gentlemen's cabins, salon and living room were all found above the cargo deck. Tiers of staterooms each had a wash basin and individual lamps.

Above this salon deck was the hurricane deck at the center of which was the crew's quarters, sometimes called the "texas." If the boat was a plush, floating palace, there was also a promenade deck for the firstclass passengers.

Above all and to the front of the boat was the bulletproof pilot or wheel house-bulletproof because of trigger-happy In- dians who took a shot now and then. The god of the river and the rhost important man on the boat took his place in that room. He stood behind a giant wheel, rang bells, and shouted into tubes.

The St. Joseph Packet Line ran a plush

steamer, the "Denver", to Omaha. It was an excursion boat and a floating palace. It featured a French menu with eight entrees, 15 types of meat, eight of which were fowl; two kinds of soup, cold dishes, 12 relishes, a wine list, nine desserts, coffee, tea and cream. You could order beef, elk, pork, antelope, buffalo, deer, fish or mutton.

The "Denver" catered to the gambler, card shark and well-to-do citizens. The floating palaces like the "Denver" all had chamber maids, waiters, the most expensive furniture, costly chandeliers, carpets, beautiful oil paintings and several pianos.

Some boats had a crew of up to 90 members. The most important man was the pilot, who was extremely well paid. In 1850, a St. Louis-Omaha river pilot received $1,000 per round trip. In 1860, $750 per month was common pay. In the day of Mark Twain, a river pilot could sometimes get $900 per trip each way and do it all in a month.

Ed Herndon went to Fort Benfon twice in one season. The profits of the first trip were $65,000 more than the original cost of the boat. Needless to say, the pilots were the Missouri River plutocrats; they dressed the part and were always the center of attention.

The captain ran the crew, sometimes doubled as pilot, and occasionally owned the boat. A captain usually received half the pay of a pilot. Two clerks received $150 per month, four engineers each were paid $125, while the deck crew got $140 and the cabin crew around $20.

There was money to be made as an owner. Two enterprising river pilots of St. Louis purchased an old stern wheeler in 1856. They loaded it down with provisions and carried the baggage for five cents a pound. The trip not only paid for the cost of the boat, but it netted a profit in the thousands. All the river towns desperately needed all kinds of provisions, and plucky entrepreneurs cashed in on the business.

Another captain amassed a fortune of $200,CXX), only to lose it all to gamblers. He then struck it rich one night, won $8,000, and went to St. Louis where he bought the "Omaha" on his winnings. In 36 hours he sailed for Omaha with a crew and 400 tons of cargo. He then sold the boat to a Dutchman in Omaha for $13,000.

The Dutchman overloaded the boat and didn't get to St. Louis until the next spring. By that time he was flat broke and offered to sell his ship for $5,000.

The decade 1850 to 1860 comprised the great years of Missouri steamboat transportation. In 1857 alone, 174 boats docked in Omaha, with 123 of them arriving between May and August. Up to seven boats arrived at or departed from Omaha each week.

In 1859 the Missouri had more river transportation than the upper and lower Mississippi Rivers combined!

The steamboat played a tremendous role in the building of the railroad. Much of the equipment-machinery, rails, ties and workers-was brought to Omaha by way of Missouri River steamboats. A great number of railroad ties were cut in Michigan, sailed down the Mississippi and up the Missouri to Omaha.

In 1865, the first two Union Pacific locomotives, the General Sherman and the General MacPherson, were brought to Omaha by riverboat from St. Louis. Six large stern wheelers were employed strictly for hauling, railroad necessities. In 1865 and 1866 steamboats brought in four

46 NEBRASKAland

locomotives, two first-class passengers coaches, two baggage cars, nine handcars, 34 flat cars and a number of box cars.

Some Nebraskans were not content just to sail the Missouri River; they even thought of putting a steamboat up the Platte! In fact, the Territorial Legislature of 1859 actually petitioned Congress for a grant of 20,000 acres of land to be given to John A. Latta of Plattsmouth. He was to receive the grant after he had dredged a channel all the way to Fort Kearny, approximately 250 river miles.

The ferry business between Council Bluffs and Omaha is a story in itself.

The first steam ferry crossing was in 1854 by the "General Marian." The Council Bluffs and Nebraska Ferry Company made a fortune during the golden years of the western migration.

All important eras must end. By 1872, four different railroads had reached the Missouri River. For a while the steamboats held their own, but they just weren't fast enough. Between 1866 and 1886, Missouri River traffic dropped from 71 steamers to 10, including three tow-boats.

In 1877, several Kansas City men invested a small fortune in some beautiful cargo boats. They bought three 250-footers in 1877 which could carry a thousand tons. One, the "Montana," costing $52,000, struck a bridge and sank with 680 tons of cargo.

Yet as late as the 1920's an Omaha boy could paddle his boat into the wake of an old stern wheeler, riding a four-foot, surflike wave which followed the riverboat for as far as a mile. The boys could see the boats coming up the river from the heights at Mandan Park.

Woods Brothers of Lincoln were perhaps the last of the Nebraska steamship owners. They owned 12 boats in 1921. They lost the "Lancaster" in 1930 when it struck a 75-foot cliff at Straub's Bend.

Then, the first diesel locomotives appeared in 1934, and their hoarse cries signaled the end of the romantic steamboat era. Perhaps with the energy situation, however, the days of steam travel are not completely over, and we may again hear those strange, plaintive whistles.

WHEN IT'S HUNTIN' TIME

(Continued from page 29)

muscles. Still no picnic, but it's better. So you sit down and try to figger out what you can do about it. And you get mad, and you get sad, and you watch them pulling out more and more trees and draining more and more marshes, and you finally feel helpless.

So you yell at the Game Commission, but you know they're doing what they can, and you yell about the farmer, but you know it's not his fault. He's just trying to make a living.

Then you remember old Jake. Well, he isn't old, but he's still on the farm. Mechanized now, and a lot bigger than he used to be. There's that old wet patch, catches a lot of rainwater, kind of an odd piece, not much good for crops. Wonder if he'd let you play around with that a little.

So you go out and talk to him, and he gets interested, too.

"Seen where the NRD has some kinda habitat program," he says. "B'lieve they'll pay a man to leave marginal cropland in habitat." "I ain't got time for habitat planting," he says, "but I'll tell you what. I'll check on that program and turn the plot over to you. See what can be done."

Well, that sounds fair enough.

And next thing you know, you're out there breaking your back planting trees and shrubs and hoping for rain. Found out the Game Commission was giving away bundles of pines and cedars and some other stuff, and a talk with the state forester gave you some more sources. And you buy a few fruit and nut trees to go along with the chokecherry and elderberry and wild plum you grubbed out of neighbor johnny's fencerow that was about to go the way of old fencerows.

Jake gets so interested, he's out to help you the second year, sweating over a spade after his full day's work, and you find yourself grateful for the help, but most of all the conversation.

"Saw a couple of old roosters out here the other morning," Jakes starts nonchalantly, "crowing and acting like they'd like to mix it up a bit."

You keep digging holes and Jake keeps filling them with seedlings.

"Wouldn't be a bit surprised if them hens get off a brood or two in my alfalfa over there," he volunteers. "Seen in the paper the other day where they say to mow around the nests and save a lot of chicks."

"The wife and kids been wondering if there's anything they can do to help," Jake volunteers as he spots the wife carrying a thermos.

"You know," he rambles on, "I got another pocket like this on that section over south. Wonder if I should get that signed up. That would give the kids something to keep them out of trouble. . . ."

That's all what hunting is, I think.

48 NEBRASKAland

Trading Post

Acceptance of advertising implies no endorsement of products or services.

Classified Ads: 20 cents a word, minimum order $4.00. November 1977 closing date, September 8. Send classified ads to: Trading Post, NEBRASKAIand, 2200 N. 33rd St., Lincoln, Nebraska 68503. P.O. Box 30370.

DOGS IRISH SETTERS, German Shorthairs, Labradors (black or yellow) AKC $40.00, FOB Atkinson. We do not ship. Roland Everett, Atkinson, Nebr. 68713. GERMAN SHORTHAIR, pups, started dogs, stud service, training hunting dogs. Doc's Dog Kennel, Route 3, Adel, Iowa 50003. Phone (515) 993-3711. CURLYCOATED RETRIEVERS, rare breed. Beautiful black male born April 22, training started-$300. Others due. Top AKC. line, hunting or show. Marillyn Caldwell. 1116 North 38th,' Lincoln, Nebraska 68503. (402) 464-5131. VIZSLA POINTERS, all ages. We also board and train hunting dogs. Rozanek Kennels, Rt 2 Schuyler, NE or phone (402) 352-5357. WE TRAIN all retrievers and pointing breeds for hunting companions. Have an occasional trained or started dog for sale. Please direct inquiries to Honore Kennels, Rt. 1, Box 433, Grand Island, NE 68801. Phone (308) 384-1517. FOR SALE: Two-year-old AKC Registered German Shorthair. Professionally trained-won 12 placements last year in midwest trials. Good hunter-steady on point-retrieves well. Will Show to interested party. Contact Bob Smith, 4001 West Benjamin, Norfolk, NE 68701, Phone (402) 379-1784. QUALITY trained and partially trained hunting dogs ready for the 1977 hunting season. Limited number of English setters, pointers, and Brittanies. . Darrell Yentes, 1118 McMillan St. Holdrege, NE 68949. Phone (308) 995-8570 after 5:30 p.m. MISCELLANEOUS "JUMBO Wisconsin, Northern Bobwhites and Chukars; Day-old and starter chicks available now; adults this fall. Taking orders for adult Gambel Quail and Golden Pheasants for fall delivery. Frank Roy, 517 E. 16th St., Grand Island, Nebr. 68801, Phone (308) 384-9845. CAPTIVE Reared Wild Waterfowl in September. Teals, scaup, wigeons, redheads, many others. Nebraska residents need Pet or Commercial permit. William Lemburg, Route 1, Box 96, Cairo, Nebraska 68824. WILL FORMS-Make Your Own Will Easily! Ready to fill in. Mail $2.00 (2 for $3.50) to FORMS, P.O. Box 3609, New Haven, Conn. 06525. GUNS-Browning, Winchester, Remington, others. Hipowers, shotguns, new, used, antiques. Want Pre-1964 Winchesters. Buy-Sell-Trade. Ph. (402) 729-2888. Bedlan's Sporting Goods, Fairbury, NE 68352. DUCK HUNTERS: learn how, make quality, solid plastic, waterfowl decoys. We're originators of famous system. Send $.50, colorful catalog. Decoys Unlimited, Clinton, Iowa 52732. SEPTEMBER 1977 FISH FOR SALE: Channel Catfish, Largemouth Bass, Bluegill, Rainbow Trout and minnows for pond and lake stocking. Contact the Pleasant Valley Fish Farm, Route 1, McCook, Nebraska 69001. Phone (308) 345-6599. TAXIDERMY BIG Bear Taxidermy, Rt. 2, Mitchell, Nebraska 69357. We specialize in all big game from Alaska to Nebraska, also birds and fish. Hair on and hair off tanning. 41/2 miles west of Scottsbluff on Highway 26. Phone (308) 635-3013. CREATIVE Taxidermy. Modern methods and lifelike workmanship on all fish and game since 1935, also tanning, rugs, and deerskin products. Joe Voges, Naturecrafts and Gift Shop, 925 4th Corso, Nebraska City, Nebraska 68410. Phone (402) 873-5491. KARL SCHWARZ Master Taxidermists. Mounting of game heads—birds—fish—animals—fur rugs—robes—tanning buckskin. Since 1910. 424 South 13th Street, Dept. A, Omaha, Nebraska 68102. TANNING—all kinds including beaver, coyote, raccoon, deer and elk. Many years experience in making fur skins into garments. Complete fur restyling, repair, cleaning and storage service. Haeker's Furriers, Alma Tanning Company, Alma, Nebr. 68920. THE HOUSE OF BIRDS-Licensed taxidermist, 10 years experience in the art of all taxidermy. Larry Nave, 1323 North 10th, Beatrice, NE 68310. Phone (402) 228-3959. FISH Mounting Service. Specialize in all freshwater fish. Visitors welcome. Wally Allison, 2709 Birchwood North Platte, NE 69101, (308) 534-2324. GREAT PLAINS TAXIDERMY, Creative and realistic mounts of Fish, Birds, Game heads, full mounts, and novelty. Pat Garvey, 3015 NW 52nd, Lincoln, Nebraska 68524. Phone 470-2280, Lincoln; 571-5630, Omaha.

NOTES ON NEBRASKA FAUNA ...

WHITE-FRONTED GOOSE by Norm Dey
Wildlife Management Supervisor Art by Neal Anderson

THE WHITE-FRONTED goose, Anser albifrons, is probably the least recognized of the geese that migrate through Nebraska in spring and fall. Whether you know him as a whitefront, specklebelly, speck brant or laughing goose, the whitefront is in a class by itself.

Its name is derived from the distinctive white band around its face at the base of the bill, which appears on adult birds. The name specklebelly, or speck for short, is derived from the black splotches on the breast of adults. The other characteristic that is distinctive in the whitefront is its pinkish bill and orange or yellowish feet. The overall color is brown-gray.

Juvenile birds are less distinctive than their parents and could be misidentified. Their bill and foot coloration, which is similar to their parents, is the primary difference between them and juvenile blue geese. During their first fall migration, the young birds are nearly uniform gray except for a lighter colored breast. Adult plumage is not attained until they molt the following summer.

When observed in flight, this 5 to 7-pound bird is unique in that it is the only dark goose with the head and neck solid brown; and when landing, the orangish feet extended readily identifies the whitefront even in a flock of mixed species of geese.

The call of the whitefront is the source of the common name "laughing goose." Unlike the call of the Can- ada or snow goose, the whitefront's often repeated cackle resembles laughter, and once an observer learns the call, identification can readily be made even without seeing the bird.

Although different subspecies of whitefronts nest in the arctic of both Asia and North America, the subspecies common to the United States nests in Alaska eastward to King William Island in the Canadian arctic. The wintering populations are distinct within the states, with one group wintering in California, and the interior population along the gulf coast from Louisiana to Mexico. The geese that migrate through Nebraska nest primarily in Alaska and along the Canadian arctic coastal plains.

Northward migration begins early, with the first whitefronts reaching Nebraska about the middle of February. The first arrivals usually descend upon the marshes and along the Platte River in Phelps and Kearney counties before the ice goes off. Soon to follow are the majority of Central Flyway birds which build to maximum numbers by late March.

While the birds are waiting for the water to open farther north, about 90 percent of the interior population of whitefronts can be found utilizing the few remaining wetlands in south-central Nebraska between Geneva and Holdrege. Along with the hundreds of thousands of mallards and pintails, as well as Canada geese, the springtime concentrations attract sightseers from many miles.

Spring numbers range from 150,000 to 200,000 whitefronts and it is not uncommon to see flocks of 40,000 to 50,000 whitefronts in the Holdrege area. Spring migration habitat in Nebraska is very critical for the whitefront, and gradual loss of this habitat has concentrated waterfowl to the point that disease has broken out and thousands of whitefronts have succumbed to fowl cholera, a bacterial disease that spreads rapidly through waterfowl when crowded conditions exists.

By April 1, the major portions of the whitefronts have moved north with only a few straggling flocks remaining. They reach the breeding grounds about the first of May to find little bare ground and the lakes still frozen over. As the snow melts and bare ground appears, the birds begin nesting. The female scratches a bowl in the ground, lines it with dried grasses, sticks and down, and begins laying eggs. The first eggs are laid about May 25. Each female lays four to seven eggs and following 23 to 28 days, young whitefronts greet the world.

During egg laying and incubation, the male protects the nest and surrounding area from outside intruders. The young grow exceedingly fast while feeding on grasses, sedges and a few insects. By six or seven weeks of age they are able to fly.

While breeding adults have been raising their young, their offspring from the two previous years have been relaxing in the arctic sun. Since white-fronted geese are not of breeding age until three years of age, their first two summers away from the nest are spent loafing about the breeding grounds.

Before the goslings can fly, their parents go through their annual molt at which time their wing feathers are replaced for their journey south, Little time is actually spent on the breeding grounds since they are early fall migrants. Normally, no more than 120 days are spent in the arctic. As the first frosts of August occur, the geese begin their migration south.

The first whitefronts are usually seen in Nebraska in late September, and in some years large numbers of birds move in early October. Unlike their spring migration, they seldom stop here in the fall.

Hunters find them a table delight. Whereas Canada geese, especially the larger honkers, are considered trophies, the whitefront surpasses them as table fare.

The first geese arrive on the gulf coast in early October. There they find an abundance of food and water and spend the winter preparing for their journey back to the nesting grounds.

For the sportsman and nature lover, this unique species of goose will stir many a heart as it wheels down on Nebraska in eariy spring or is heard winging its way south in the fall.

50 NEBRASKAland