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Small game hunting not what it used to be

November 6, 2011
The Altoona Mirror

The dogs were acting quite "birdy" when they disappeared into the small thicket at the edge of the field we were hunting. A few moments later, the unmistakable cackle of a male pheasant announced its presence seconds before that long-tailed bird exploded from the cover. Such ample warning made an easy shot even easier, and the ringneck folded instantly when I squeezed the trigger of my shotgun. Before that bird had fallen into the strip of dried goldenrod below it, my hunting partner also shot, and I watched another pheasant tumble from the sky just a few yards farther down the fencerow.

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