Some of my best hunts are predator calling trips with my dad and my son. Around here after the general firearms deer season ends the woods are empty. At that time in the big woods I hunt I can walk all day across the country and never hear a man made sound. The winter weather is cold and crisp, the woods bare and silent. And then you start the squalling and crying... the sound and sight of a coyote running through the dry leaves charging in to ambush the hapless critter it hears in trouble or the sight of a bobcat slipping in through the snow are sights only a few dedicated predator hunters know. Makes for some special memories.

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Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.