Boys of the Old Sea Bed: Tales of Nature and Adventure

by Charles Allen McConnell

Upon several acres of sod plowing, buckwheat had been sown, and had so thriven that the early September frosts had found an abundant harvest of the queer little three-cornered grains already matured. The boys found it back-breaking work to cut this field with their old-fashioned scythes, but at last it had been finished, and then raked up into piles to be thoroughly cured before being stacked.

The buckwheat harvest seemed to be taken as an invitation to feast, by the innumerable prairie chickens of the vicinity, with all their kinfolk. And they came. The boys had no reason to object as long as the birds confined themselves to gleaning the scattered grains from the field, but when they proceeded to tear down the raked-up piles, and the boys saw their hard work about to be brought to naught, their ire began to arise against the marauders.

Be it said to their credit, that the thought of killing more of the prairie chickens than could be used for food never occurred to them. But when the opportunity presented itself of saving the ditching job with fresh meat, the boys eagerly fell in with Ed’s plan of making the birds pay for their feeding.

So the very next morning the boys crept along the stake-and-rider fence, until they came close to where the birds were noisily helping themselves to the buckwheat harvest. The birds were taken by surprise and ten of them were left flopping on the ground as the flock arose at the noise of the guns. The boys carefully cleaned and picked the birds, stuffing the carcasses with fresh grass. Again, when the flock came back to its evening meal, the maneuver of sneaking along the fence was repeated, as the sun was sinking in the west. Eight birds this time fell victims to the three guns, and were quickly prepared, for Dauphin was to make a moonlight ride to the camp with the forty pounds of the longed-for fresh meat.

If the children of Israel were greedy when the quails came as the result of their murmurings, these ditchers were none the less so when it became known what Dauphin had brought, and it required all the diplomacy the cook possessed to put the men off until breakfast for their prairie chicken stew.

Dauphin would be at the camp over night, so the following morning Rob and Ed took their guns and began to slowly creep along the fence toward the buckwheat field. But before they came into firing distance, they heard a shrill “ka-r-rh!” from the top of a tall, dead poplar standing near, and the whole flock took wing and sailed away to safety. The birds had posted a sentinel upon that lookout, and it was clear that some other plan must now be hit upon if the boys would be able to carry out their contract.

“I tell you what we can do to fool those fellows,” said Rob, “We’ll get out before daylight, and cover ourselves with the buckwheat straw, and be all ready for the beggars when they come for their sunrise breakfast.”

This they did, and chuckled as they saw the sentinel posted in the tree top, peering this way and that with craning neck. All unsuspicious, the big birds settled down over the field, and began noisily to tear at the bundles of grain, when, “bang! bang! bang!” the three guns rang out at an agreed signal, and, all together again, with the second barrels, as the flock took wing.

That was a famous haul, for nineteen birds were secured. As there was no way, in those days, or place of preserving fresh meats in cold storage, the boys waited for their next ambuscade until the following morning, when nearly as many chickens were secured. At the third morning, however, the prairie chickens lit in trees and upon the rail fence, at a safe distance from the guns; and while they protested their hunger with many a “ka-r-rh,” they did not come down into the field, much to the disgust of the boys.

When the same result obtained for the next day, the boys saw that some new scheme must be hit upon to save their contract. Deadfalls, “figure 4’s,” and coop traps were suggested and discussed, but it was decided that the big flock had grown so wise that these were not practicable. At last Dauphin spoke up with a brightening face: “How many of those little steel traps have you, boys?”