\u201cIF THE HOUNDS<\/span><\/strong> don\u2019t bring that rabbit around soon, Dad, it will be too dark to shoot,\u201d stated my nine-year-old son Eddie as he stomped his toes to maintain heat. \u201cIt must be an old male to run circles that big,\u201d I answered. \u201cIf this weren\u2019t cottontail country, I\u2019d swear they had a snowshoe going. Seems to me they\u2019ve covered half of Steuben County in the last half-hour.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n Another 10 minutes handed earlier than the bawling beagles began again our means. Then a slight motion caught my eye. To our left, the place an outdated stone wall edged a spruce plantation, a patch of grey appeared. Nimbly, a grey fox jumped up onto the wall and peered intently towards the oncoming hounds.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t move,\u201d I whispered as I eased my .22 autoloader to my shoulder.\u00a0<\/p>\n When the rifle cracked, the fox leaped straight up, tumbled off the wall, and plunged blindly into the thick evergreens.<\/p>\n \u201cWow, Dad, what made him jump so?\u201d Ed requested excitedly.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cHeart shot, I hope,\u201d I replied. \u201cIf that\u2019s what Briar and Buckshot were running, it\u2019s no wonder they\u2019ve been making such big circles. Go see if I got him, Son. If I did, half the five-dollar bounty is yours toward your new snowshoes.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n A half-hour later, fox and hounds in tow, we had been greeted by my spouse Theresa on the door of our body residence exterior Bath within the Southern Tier of New York State.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cYour dad wants you to call him right away,\u201d she informed me. \u201cHe\u2019s all excited about something. It didn\u2019t make sense. Who ever heard of a black white rabbit.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cA what?\u201d I requested.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cA black white rabbit!\u201d she repeated. \u201cOh, what\u2019s the difference brown, white, black. You and the boys are late for supper every time you hunt them. Now get those smelly old hounds out of my kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n I winked at Ed as he coaxed the 2 beagles out the again door, after which I bestirred myself to get the long-distance operator. In a minute my name was positioned to Art Flick Sr., who has been a full-time information within the Catskill Mountains of jap New York for the higher a part of his life.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s up, Dad?\u201d I requested.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cSon, I know I\u2019ve got no right to suggest that we change our plans for our annual Christmas hare hunt next week,\u201d he informed me, \u201cbut you\u2019ll never believe what I saw up on Halcott Mountain today. A black snowshoe rabbit. So help me, old Tiny brought him around three different times, but I never could get a whack at him. He looked big as a house cat and black as the inside of a cow. I\u2019d sure like to have you boys come down here so we could have a go at him.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cYou know I\u2019d come in a minute, Dad,\u201d I replied, \u201cbut it\u2019s Bill\u2019s turn to host our annual hunt, and everyone\u2019s plans are made. Black rabbit or not, I\u2019m afraid we\u2019re committed to hunt the Adirondacks this year.\u201d<\/p>\n Christmas hare hunts have been a convention in our household ever since Bill, my oldest brother, bought his first looking license again in 1943. He\u2019s a fisheries-research affiliate and lives on a 27,000-acre wildlife paradise within the Adirondack Mountains the place he does analysis for Cornell University. We rotate our annual hare hunts between his place, the household homestead within the Catskills, and my place within the Southern Tier.\u00a0<\/p>\n Before assembly at Bill\u2019s for our \u201958 Christmas hunt, I had event to verify in at conservation headquarters in Albany, N.Y. While there, I did some research of my very own on black various hares. I additionally seemed up Joe Dell, chief wildlife biologist for the game-research part of the Bureau of Game. After main me by a contented haze of organic jive, he knowledgeable me {that a} black hare can be a melano.<\/p>\n \u201cHe zigged when he should have zagged when he came to color,\u201d Joe informed me, chuckling. \u201cInstead of being brown in the summer and white in the winter, he\u2019s black. Melanos, like albinos, are extremely rare. Anyone who\u2019s lucky enough to bag one has a real trophy. According to our records, the last one killed in the Catskills was taken back in 1925 on Halcott Mountain.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cHalcott Mountain!\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cWhy, that\u2019s where the hare I\u2019m talking about was seen.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n I may hardly wait to see Dad and Bill to inform them what I\u2019d discovered. From that second on, the Halcott Mountain oddity dominated our dialog.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cIf I thought he could survive till next season, I\u2019d leave him alone,\u201d Dad stated over a glass of Bill\u2019s do-it-yourself chokecherry wine on Christmas Eve. \u201cOnly thing in his favor is being up on Halcott Mountain. We\u2019re the only damn fools who\u2019ll hoof it clear up there for the few hares that live in that swamp on top. But there\u2019s always the chance that a predator will nail him. He\u2019s so darned conspicuous on the snow, I think I\u2019d better try for him when I get back home,\u201d he reasoned.\u00a0<\/p>\n Following our hunt at Bill\u2019s, I returned to my work as a forester at Bath with the N.Y. State Conservation Department. I additionally do some part-time guiding there. It was an excessive amount of to hope that the melano could be across the subsequent 12 months for our hunt at Dad\u2019s place within the Catskills. My six-year-old son Johnny helped me to place ideas of the weird hare out of my thoughts.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe Grampy\u2019s eyes aren\u2019t so good any more,\u201d he stated, baby vogue. \u201cProb- ably he really saw a dirty white rabbit.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n But Grampy was out to show completely different. Before the season closed on February 29, he made two extra journeys to the highest of the three,500-foot mountain to strive for the black white rabbit.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cThe capers that rascal pulled on those poor hounds were enough to give a dog heartburn,\u201d he wrote after his final unsuccessful Halcott Mountain hunt. \u201cI got to see him one more time, but he made a monkey of me,\u201d Dad lamented. \u201cMy lead was just right, but the instant I fired, he stopped. I must have missed him by four feet.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n The looking for various hares within the Catskill Mountains differs slightly from looking within the Adirondacks, New England, or the Lake States. The critters aren\u2019t plentiful, and most of them reside on the tops of mountains. You\u2019ll discover Catskill snowshoes the place stunted hardwoods grade into a combination of man-high conifers some 2,500 to three,000 toes above the valley flooring.\u00a0<\/p>\n On event a inhabitants spillover sends scattered hares down among the many cottontails within the reforested areas alongside the decrease slopes. When the customer is chased by a flop-eared hound, nevertheless, there\u2019s no assure he\u2019ll circle. More typically than not, the snowshoe heads for the highest of the closest mountain and stays there. Therefore, most critical hare hunters head for the excessive nation.\u00a0<\/p>\n That transfer entails a threat. Weather and snow situations could also be wonderful down within the valley, however put a pair thousand toes of elevation behind you, and also you\u2019re in a special world. Snow situations, temperature, and wind could all be completely different. Sometimes the change is so drastic that looking is unattainable. Nevertheless we nonetheless focus on the snowshoe slightly than his cousin, the cottontail. The massive hare could not equal the cottontail as a culinary delight, however his behavior of not holing up endears him to the true houndsman who revels within the chase. And we Flicks love the chase!\u00a0<\/p>\n During the autumn of \u201959, Dad was booked full with hunters of grouse, woodcock, and deer, so he had no time to see if the melano had made it by the summer time, although in November he did obtain an encouraging report from a neighborhood deer hunter. While monitoring a wounded buck by the swamp on high of Halcott Mountain, he had jumped a coal-black rabbit. Dad was elated. The hare was nonetheless alive.\u00a0<\/p>\n THE 1959<\/strong> Christmas holidays blew in on the heels of a pointy chilly wave that threatened to complete our melano hunt earlier than it began. By Christmas morning, nevertheless, the temperatures had moderated to a modest 18\u00b0 above zero. To brighten the image, a fast-moving storm had put an inch of recent snow down the size of the valley on Christmas Eve. Dad allowed that situations ought to be good on high of Halcott, offered the wind didn\u2019t come up strongly.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cShall we use the shotguns or stick to the .22\u2019s?\u201d Bill requested.\u00a0<\/p>\n Now my dad is a purist within the strictest sense of the phrase.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cThe melano gets no preferential treatment,\u201d he decreed. \u201cEither we get him fair and square with rifles or we go without.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n Which .22 rifle is finest for this kind of looking is a topic that always retains the hot-stove league effervescent for hours. Bill prefers the little light-weight Browning autoloader, Dad favors the autoloading Remington Model 552, and I persist with the Savage Model 6 autoloader I purchased as a teenager with furs from my trapline.\u00a0<\/p>\n Among us now we have seven beagles. On our Christmas hare hunts, we every select one hound we really feel would be the finest below that day\u2019s working situations. Dad\u2019s outdated Tiny canine, Bill\u2019s 15-inch Star, and my four-year-old Briar received nods to go after the melano. The 4 different hounds had been left behind to serenade our wives.\u00a0<\/p>\n AS SOON AS<\/span><\/strong> the kids had opened presents Christmas morning, the hunters headed for Halcott Mountain. We drove up the Beech Ridge street to the bottom of the mountain and parked the automobile.\u00a0<\/p>\n The minute we let the canine out, they jumped a cottontail and had been off. Dad was livid.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cI knew we should have leashed the mutts till we got through that brushlot,\u201d he grumbled.\u00a0<\/p>\n It took about quarter-hour earlier than the canine wheeled the plump cottontail by me. Luck was with us, and I dispatched the rabbit with a single hollowpoint on the primary circle. After a fast gutting job, I hung him in a tree fork to select up on our means again. Then we began off on the exhausting climb up Halcott Mountain.\u00a0<\/p>\n We hadn\u2019t gone 200 yards up the timbered slope earlier than we began peeling off our coats. By the tip of the primary half-hour we had been right down to our undershirts, and we had been nonetheless virtually sweating as we plodded by the deepening snow. Halfway up we needed to cease and placed on our snowshoes. From there on, we took turns breaking path, and the canine tailed alongside patiently behind.\u00a0<\/p>\n About the time we hit the final bench of ledges down from the highest of the mountain, the canine led on out. Minutes later, after we stopped for a breather, we heard outdated Tiny sounding off excessive above us.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cIt may be the melano. Let\u2019s get moving,\u201d Dad stated urgently.\u00a0<\/p>\n We foolishly charged to the highest of the mountain. The sudden exertion began the perspiration flowing freely from all of us.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a wonder the dogs are getting enough scent out of that powdered snow to run,\u201d Bill muttered. \u201cIt must be close to zero up here.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n We made sure we knew the place every man was to face after which listened to the bawling hounds. By the time the hare had circled the second time, I used to be shivering due to my sweat-soaked underwear. Star had joined in with Tiny, and so they had been actually turning it on. My Briar canine, being reluctant to run with different canine on a rabbit that he didn\u2019t begin, was off by himself making an attempt to straighten out a chilly observe.\u00a0<\/p>\n The two different canine had been out of listening to once I noticed a motion in a tangle of evergreens to my left. Thinking it was Briar, I known as out, \u201cGo get one started, you old fool.\u201d To my chagrin, a snowshoe bounded out after which disappeared like a spook into the security of the swamp.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cMust have been a stray,\u201d I assumed. I began to name Briar to place him on the observe once I heard the opposite canine coming again. Suddenly they give up. It took solely a minute for them to make up the loss, after which they headed proper for Bill.\u00a0<\/p>\n I can all the time inform Bill\u2019s capturing from Dad\u2019s as a result of he shoots his autoloader briefly bursts, a behavior he traces again to his military days. Dad grinds his photographs out slowly and methodically. I do one or the opposite, relying on my diploma of pleasure.\u00a0<\/p>\n In this case, the gunfire got here briefly bursts.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cGot him,\u201d Bill yelled. \u201cIt\u2019s a white one.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cGood boy,\u201d Dad known as from the far fringe of the swamp. \u201cNow let\u2019s head east to the far point. That\u2019s where I jumped that black rascal the last time I was up here.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cHold it a minute,\u201d I shouted. \u201cI\u2019ve got to get this wet undershirt off before I shiver right out of my snowshoe harness.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n I LEANED<\/span><\/strong> my rifle towards a small balsam and began to strip. As I peeled off the sweat-soaked undershirt, Briar put his nostril proper on a hare not 50 yards away and sight-ran it proper towards me. The different canine picked up the cry, and all three burst from the swamp not 5 jumps behind the hare.\u00a0 It was the melano!\u00a0<\/p>\n Dad, sportsman that he’s, frowns on capturing hares earlier than they make a full circle, however on this case I used to be prepared to threat his wrath.\u00a0<\/p>\n I lunged for the rifle, however I put one snowshoe on high of the opposite. As I shifted my weight to swing the rifle to my shoulder, I misplaced my steadiness and the tangled snowshoes pitched me headlong into the snow.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s the melano,\u201d I cried, spitting out the white powdery stuff. \u201cHe damn near ran over me.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n The chase was on.\u00a0Clumsily, I struggled to my toes. The melano made a good circle and headed proper again towards the place I stood, half bare, with my rifle filled with snow.\u00a0<\/p>\n The entire entourage handed inside simple capturing distance of me, however I used to be helpless. Numb from the chilly, I fumbled into my wool shirt and bent to the duty of cleansing my rifle. Laboriously, I unloaded, freed up the motion, and blew the snow out of the barrel. Meantime the hounds and the hare handed out of listening to. They circled 4 occasions earlier than Bill lastly minimize unfastened with a seven-shot burst. There was a pause after which 5 extra fast photographs.\u00a0<\/p>\n His muffled yell drifted faintly by the snow-laden evergreens. Had he linked? The canine answered my query. They stored coming. Bill had missed, and the hounds had been heading my means.\u00a0<\/p>\n I noticed the black hare silhouetted towards the backdrop of white snow as he darted between two balsams. Then he stopped.\u00a0<\/p>\n Slowly, fastidiously, I raised my rifle\u2014Dad\u2019s long-standing recommendation to maneuver slowly was paying off. The melano by no means moved. He was backed up towards a small sapling and listened intently to the approaching hounds. This was the golden second. I squeezed the set off\u2014click on<\/em>.<\/p>\n The firing pin fell on an empty chamber. I had forgotten to chamber a spherical. Frantically I labored the motion because the melano moved into excessive gear. In an instantaneous he was swallowed up by the thick swamp. I may have bawled out loud.\u00a0<\/p>\n Crestfallen, I listened because the canine took the hare out of listening to once more. Taking benefit of the lull, Bill and I moved to new stands. Ten extra minutes handed earlier than I heard the hounds working their means again towards Dad on the opposite facet of the swamp. The losses had been turning into an increasing number of frequent because the swamp grew to become marked with a jumble of hound and hare tracks.\u00a0<\/p>\n Suddenly, all was quiet.\u00a0<\/p>\n When the sound of the baying beagles began once more, I used to be aghast. The canine had break up up and had been working in reverse instructions. While figuring out the loss, Star had jumped one other hare. Things had been actually getting confused.\u00a0<\/p>\n The canine labored slowly and uncertainly. In the space, sounding like popguns, the .22\u2019s began speaking. Both Bill and Dad had been capturing. I couldn\u2019t assist however chuckle. Staid outdated Dad was shucking them out as quick as brother Bill.\u00a0<\/p>\n Like a duet, a refrain of \u201cI got \u2019im,\u201d drifted by the dense swamp. I ran for Bill. As I approached, I noticed him kneeling over Star. The hound was worrying a full-grown white hare within the gentle snow.<\/p>\n \u201cCongratulations,\u201d I known as out as I jogged by and headed for the spot the place Dad and the opposite two hounds had been kicking up an terrible fuss. As I approached, a spruce dropped a load of snow down my neck.<\/p>\n \u201cLook what I got, Son,\u201d Dad chortled. \u201cIsn\u2019t he a beauty? Must weigh over four pounds, and not a white hair on him. What a chase he gave us!\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t know the half of it,\u201d I replied, shaking the snow out of my collar. \u201cThat devil really<\/em> made a monkey out of me. I\u2019ll never forget this hunt as long as I live.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n THAT NIGHT<\/span><\/strong> as we sat across the supper desk, Dad informed the day\u2019s occasions for the advantage of the wide-eyed grandchildren.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s see now,\u201d he stated as he gestured together with his favourite steak knife, \u201cthe last melano was killed on Halcott Mountain just 34 years ago. If history keeps repeating itself, Grampy ought to be able to take you youngsters back up there in 1993, and we\u2019ll get us another one of those black white rabbits\u2014if you can stay on your feet, keep your gun loaded, and hit what you\u2019re shooting at.\u201d With that, he winked at Bill and me.\u00a0<\/p>\n Melano or no melano, I couldn\u2019t consider a nicer solution to spend a Christmas than on a household hare hunt.<\/p>\n Read extra OL+<\/a> tales.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n