My brother and I inherited land on the Red River that our GF bought in 1906. He was a master squirrel hunter, could slip thru the woods like an Indian. He used a single barrel 12 ga and always kept his family supplied with squirrels. I still have that old gun. Those tall, old growth trees formed a canopy that was a haven for fox and cat squirrels. And for young hunters following the old man. Those were the days, wonderful memories. Up before daylight, dripped coffee, biscuits, eggs and fig preserves, then to the woods. Some things you just don’t forget.
DF
