Hunting small game over dogs is the epitomy of team sports, the dog enjoying what he was bred to do and the hunter conveying signals that land the game in the bag. When a human takes on the roll of the dog, things can get hilarious or, in the case of this one silly rabbit, turn serious in a heartbeat when the hunter becomes the game.
It was my turn to play the dog, and I was not looking forward to it on this particular hunt. The field we chose to hunt that October morn was peppered with large patches of "Briar" adorned in their armament of claw shaped thorns like a battalion of hooked daggers eager and willing to rip the flesh from my bones. Somehow or other, the cottontails were keenly aware of this little fact and daringly enticed me to enter their "fortress of torture" completely to my peril. To a novice I would say, "the first time you assault a Briar patch unprotected, you will never try it again, I guarantee!"
It's as though the vines are alive just waiting for the unsuspecting to venture into their quiet grasp. It's amazing. The more you struggle, the more determined the situation becomes and, there is no easy way to liberate yourself from the Briars' grasp once ensnared. The only course to freedom is to grit your teeth and rip the tenacious thorns from your flesh. I can't remember the number of thorns I picked out of my legs the first time however, I learned quick, fast and in a hurry, that if you are going to play the dog on a rabbit hunt, you'd better wear chaps, gloves and a thornproof jacket.
My friend and I usually hunt and fish together, just the two of us, because the greater the number of hunters in the field, the greater the amount of lead flying in the air not to mention reducing our chances for stealthy kills. However, my brother-in-law, who is a gourmet chef, asked if he could tag along because he needed a couple of rabbits for some function he had comming up in the near future. I talked it over with my friend and we agreed to allow him to hunt with us.
As I said previously, It was my turn to play the dog. We walked about half a mile down the trail looking for good sign. When we found a promising area, I headed into the briars in a westerly direction. My friend was positioned about 50 yards or so to the north and east poised and ready for a bounding target. My brother-in-law was positioned due east and south of my entry point. I moved into the briar patch picking my way along as quietly as I could until I penetrated deep into the thicket about 50 yards. I then turned north, without stealth, and walked another 25 yards or so. This was the point I began my zig-zag pattern walking toward the hunters. This approach at "scouring" the field usually jumps a rabbit because of the close proximity however, I have had to actually poke some rabbits with my gun barrel to make them jump. An unwary hunter will step right over a sitting rabbit, that is how tight they will hold to a hiding spot.
I was about 15 yards into the zig-zag pattern moving east when I jumped a rabbit. My buddy knew instantly from my reaction that the rabbit was on the move even though its exact location was yet to be determined. I saw the stock of his shotgun rise to his shoulder in anticipation of getting a bead on it. As long as the rabbit remained between my buddy and I, the barrel of the gun would not rise until the rabbit moved to an area that was safe to fire into, the mark of an experienced hunter. What happened next was truly astonishing, the rabbit did not swerve as suspected but held its northeast course as straight as an arrow right to my buddy as if he had called to his dog to come. I think this took my buddy by surprise also because of the look he had on his face as the rabbit charged closer. By then though, he knew he couldn't fire on the rabbit anyway because, if he had fired on the rabbit with the 12 guage, there wouldn't be anything left to bag. The tactic was to let the rabbit run until it was in safe range of the 12 guage. He watched in awe as the rabbit charged closer.
At this point, I think everyone expected the rabbit to break its charge to the left or to the right but, it just kept on comming. I saw the stock of the shotgun fall to my buddys' waist as he stared in wide-eyed amazement as he realized that if the rabbit stayed on its present course, it would run right between his legs. It was one of the most fascinating events I have ever witnessed, a wild rabbit running to the hunter as if daring him to shoot. The astonishment continued as the rabbit reached my buddys' feet when the novelty of it all was shattered by the "BOOM" of a shotgun blast that froze my buddy and I in complete and utter disbelief. The guy we had allowed to hunt with us on this one occasion had committed the unthinkable, he fired his weapon at an animal with a fellow hunter in the crosshairs.
For what seemed like a long time I was dumbfounded. I could not believe my eyes and ears. What was remarkable was that my brother-in-law had missed both targets without one pellet hitting either of them. Nothing, good or bad, seemed to register in his mind because, realizing that he had missed the rabbit, the idiot began to raise the stock to his shoulder again. I saw the barrel of my buddys' shotgun swing in the direction of my brother-in-law and I knew what was comming next, my buddy will blow his head off if he raises his barrel to fire again. I did the only thing I could think of at that moment, I yelled "NO" at the top of my lungs and charged in my brother-in-laws direction. When I reached him, I snatched the pump action 12 guage from his hands and ejected all of the shells. I told him with a deadly calm,"do not reload your weapon, your hunt is over!"
To this day, I look back on that event and I see the best and the worst of it all at the same time, a wild rabbit that saved his own life by running straight to the hunter and the idiot that tried to kill them both.