Here's a compendium of stories that are all pretty interesting and all related by the fact that they are all coyote (or fox) related. Many of you may not find it that interesting, but remember that coyotes and fox are considerably harder to hunt for as they utilize all their senses much more and seem to actually think about it more than many deer do. On top of that, there are fewer of them, and when they do come around, they're as attentive as can be to everything around them. It is for these reasons that taking a coyote is usually considered quite an accomplishment; taking one with bow and arrow is an absolute feat that is highly valued. I have been fortunate enough to take a couple of my own, and assisted heavily in the taking of a nice fox, all of which are accounted for you here.
The first story is from several years ago, probably 2005 or so, and is about the first coyote that I killed. Now, one thing about all of my coyote and fox encounters is that they have been coincidental while I have been hunting something else. This isn't to say that I haven't tried to hunt for coyote and fox, I've just never had any luck doing it and instead have had more success when hunting for other game. This is exactly what happened for this first coyote.
I was bowhunting for deer and had been sitting in my stand since early in the morning. My stand was in a great spot as it was in the woods a about 30 yards from a field edge and my particular strip of woods acted as a travel-way for all sorts of animals; deer, turkey, raccoon, skunks, opossum, and of course coyotes. As I sat there at mid-day I hear something moving behind me. If you've ever been hunting, you know that at the hint of any movement, you automatically perk up, and of course, try to get a look at what is making the noise. The same happened in this case and I was fortunate enough to catch a glance at a nice coyote that was moving behind me, without it noticing me.
Now, I had watched several coyote hunting movies and had already tried my hand at calling coyotes before, but again, had never had much luck. The one thing I had picked up on though was that the sound most calls make can be made quite easily, granted more quietly, by puckering ones lips and squeaking rapidly. At first I thought this coyote might come right by me, but I quickly realized that this 'yote was headed into the field. As soon as I saw that, I puckered up my lips and started squeaking like mad. Amazingly (to me at least), he immediately stopped, looked my direction, turned, and started walking right towards one of my best shooting lanes. Just as one plans, I drew while he was behind some brush, barked and stopped him as he stepped into the lane, and made a perfect shot at 25 yds!
He barked when he got hit, and quickly ran off into the woods. I waited several minutes and then got down and started searching for him. If you know me well, you also know that I am partially red/green colorblind and thus have a very hard time finding a blood trail. The same thing happened in this case and I was having a darn hard time finding any sign of him. Thankfully, I finally stumbled across half of the arrow that I had shot at him, and it had a good amount of blood on it. Finding this not only told me that the coyote was bleeding good, but also gave me a direction to continue looking. Fortunately, after looking a little more, I finally found him, dead as a doornail, about 60 yards away from where I shot him. Amazingly, he had bitten my arrow in half, which if you know how strong carbon arrows are is quite a feat. I won't be underestimating the jaw strength of these guys in the future. This was the first coyote I had ever seen while bowhunting and I felt pretty good that I had succeeded in taking him.Ok, now on to the second story, which is actually a story about my friend Jason, but I was pretty involved in this situation and am responsible for the success. It started out when Jason invited me up to his land near Valders, WI to deer hunt. Unfortunately, because of the mentality of many of the hunters on neighboring property, the deer population had waned and Jason had not seen a decent buck, or even a decent population, for the last several years. Of course, there is always hope that a nice buck will pass through around rut time, but in reality, neither of us were expecting a whole lot. More than anything, this was an opportunity to get away and hunt together, which is worth whatever time we did spend doing it.
Anyway, we hunted in the morning, both of us in tree stands of Jason's, but neither of us saw anything. For that evenings hunt, we decided to set up near an old orchard and one of the food plots that Jason had planted. Because there were not too many stands overlooking this area, I decided to set up my blind on one side of the field, across from the main wood line. Jason, on the other hand, took a tree stand across the field from me and down maybe 40 yards. Yes, we were close to each other, but we each had a different perspective on things and Jason was covering the woods while I covered the field and anything coming from the orchard behind me.
As I was sitting there, I did see a small buck walking along the field edge. He did step out and I could have easily shot him at 40 yards or so, but as he was a small buck, I let him walk. A short time later, I heard something moving in the wood and as I looked across to the wood line, I saw flashes of red moving in and out of the trees. At first, this mystified me, but it didn't take long for me to realize that this was a red fox cruising the wood line. Now, being the prepared hunter that I am, I quickly whipped out my varmint call and started squealing on it, with the intent of calling him in and making a nice trophy out of him.
What did happen though, was that as soon as I started squealing, I stopped the fox and turned hum in my direction. As he came my direction, he came out of the woods not 30 yards away from Jason. Jason, having been alerted to the presence of something when I started squealing, was already drawn back as the fox came out and made a beautiful shot at that fox. He ran off and we sat for another half hour or so until the end of the day. Upon finishing our hunt, Jason despaired of finding the fox, but having a good idea of where he lay down, I walked right to him and presented Jason with his trophy. This fox turned out to be a beautiful specimen, and while I wish it was mine, I was and am so glad to have been a vital part of the taking of such a fine trophy.
For the final story, I'll tell you about my most recent coyote encounter, which happened just a couple years ago and was the only animal I shot all hunting season. In this case, Jason and I again were hunting together on a semi-public piece of land in central Wisconsin. Jason had scouted and hunted this land already and had seen a very nice buck just the day or so before. In setting up my stand, I put it on the end of a knoll with a commanding view of the area and was exactly where Jason had seen the buck previously.
As I sat there later that morning, I got pretty excited when I heard something coming up the valley behind me. As this animal came up along side me where I could see it, I realized that it was a coyote, and a very pretty one at that, with a dark red and gray hide unlike any that I had seen before. As before, I started squeaking as loudly as I could with my lips. Because it was a relatively quiet morning, this sound carried and I got the attention of the coyote, but couldn't see that it had turned in my direction. I kept squeaking from time to time, but still didn't know where the 'yote had gone. After almost half an hour, I was surprised when I looked over and there was the coyote. I squeaked lightly and it moved towards me slowly. At about 40 yards, I made a nice shot, hitting it in the midsection and definitely wounding it enough that I would be able to recover it later that day. For now, I listened as it rolled down the hill and finally stopped moving at the bottom of the hill.
TLaSS,
Joshua
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