Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire To Kill a Bison...

We spent the rest of the day searching high and low for other herds. VernAK was still on the case, as was Rost495. We all split up, figuring it best to have at least three teams afield looking in different areas for herds to one mob checking over the same spots. We did see another bison herd but those animals were on a property listed as ‘no hunting’. They were all working on feed that the landowners had out. Unclear if it was intentional or not, but the property and feed wasn’t fenced, so the bison simply waltzed in and ate to their collective hearts content. I could be wrong, but it seemed to me that maybe the owners wanted the bison to remain unmolested by hunters so enticed them into the land with feed to the private property where hunting them is not allowed. We also saw a lone bull on a small parcel inhabited also by a small herd of yaks. That bison was safe.

Some critters we laid eyes on as we patrolled about the area.





The herd on the Wrigley land before Rost495 put them to bed. Talk about a stunning background. That was the early evening before our opener.





Rost495 after a quick scouting stomp.



One of the landowners listed with the status of ‘hunting allowed with permission’ had a contact number with the prefix of 978. This was curious, as I knew that that area code was in Essex County in northeast Massachusetts, where I reside. I called to inquire about the possibility of our trespassing to hunt, and the fellow who answered explained to me that he’s very particular about who he grants permission to hunt his land to. If I wanted, I was welcome to visit him at his residence to talk about it. Ah, an interview! I told him that we’d like to discuss it, and asked if we could stop by after dark. He gave me his address.

When nightfall arrived and we’d had no real sightings or leads as far as what to try to do in the morning, we decided to pay a visit to this fellow I’ll call ’Bob’ and ask him about us maybe bison hunting his land. I’ll not spend much time on our interaction, other than to opine that lonely folks with no family with serious health issues in nursing home facilities can be a shocking and disturbing thing to behold. I did find it fairly amazing that when I asked him about his connection to MA and the North Shore, when we got to talking learned that we knew some of the same people. He was surprised when I told him that one of the guys he knew and went to high school with was still serving a lengthy prison term for bank robbery. His kid brother and I have tuna fished together. Small world sometimes. We left Bob’s place with permission to hunt his, and an adjoining land owners land and a thorough explanation of the lay of the land and where we’d want to look for the shaggy beasts that sometime roamed the property.

By the time we got cleaned up back at the inn and had a quick rest, it was around 8:00 pm. Unbeknownst to us, very few places to eat in DJ remain open beyond 8:00 pm or so. Guess which joint was still open. Yep. We ended the first day having to suffer through another meal back at, you guessed it; The Cave. I was kind of hoping that our first bad dining experience was perhaps a fluke. Nope! At least they’re consistent.

Day two of the hunt. SD and I roused ourselves out of bed predawn and got geared up and grabbed some hot grub at the inn before hitting the road. We touched base with Rost495 and came up with a plan. VernAK said he’d get a hold of us and talk about anything seen as he got out and about. We ran over to the Robinson property and got on a back road quietly, and started poking around looking for fresh sign. VernAK had explained that the bison liked to get into the red fescue back in some bushy places to feed at times. He also opined that after getting pressured, the bison herds often got spooky and went nocturnal and chose to often stay in the bush rather than go about their business in the agricultural areas.

SD parked the rig and started glassing near the Circle fields and I got out of the truck to follow some of the obviously fresh bison tracks that ran across the two track and into the bush. It didn’t take but ten minutes after my getting out of the truck before I heard them headed inbound. The grinding of gears, clanking of the tracks, loud with stereo playing were kind of hard to miss. I strode back to the two track and watched as the three guys in the amphibious rig blow past me, all smiles and waves. Fuggin' donkeys. I'd assumed that most Alaskan hunters were a bit more on point and conscientious about stealth and whatnot when in the field hunting. Surprise!