A Hunters Book of Days

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I hope the new, yet familiar, landscape of the mountains allows him to open up in future works. And write a bit more about hunting. Shelly is a newspaper editor and freelance writer. He is the author of Lynn Bogue Hunt: A Sporting Life , published by the Derrydale Press. He is at work now on a book with Brett James Smith. Wilderness Adventures Press, Inc. Nearly a century ago, Edmund Davis, an ardent woodcock hunter blessed with a substantial inheritance and an Edwardian devotion to upland gunning, privately printed a scant copies of his book, Woodcock Shooting.

Long since out of print and quite rare, Woodcock Shooting has been made available to a new generation of wingshooters thanks to a special edition issued by Wilderness Adventures Press. Finely presented in its slipcase graced with Brett James Smith artwork, containing an introduction by George Bird Evans, and sprinkled throughout with Smith etchings, this classic volume belongs on the shelf of every bird hunter.

Davis writes in the slightly stilted fashion of his day, interspersing lines of poetry throughout the pages, and hinting at the privileged shooting life enjoyed by scions of the Gilded Age. However, far from evidencing a mindset as a stuffy, self-absorbed patrician, Davis emotively describes the conflicting feelings upland hunters everywhere exhibit about killing what they treasure.

Davis readily admits to little experience with the Southern range of woodcock, gleaning most of his expertise from years of hunting in New Brunswick. Davis wisely introduces his subject matter at its most basic level, bringing the hunter into the habitat of his quarry and providing insight into the necessary foodstuffs.

Interestingly enough, this first chapter is also where Davis falls off his horse, so to speak, with a foray into the folklore surrounding woodcock. His character, unfortunately, was marred by some defeats. Generous to prodigality, he was a spendthrift, and unreliable in business matters. Requiring stimulants, he did not always use them in moderation. As a statesman, he was more admired than trusted. Still, his patriotism was undoubted, and his faults were most easily over looked by those who knew him best. He embodied much of the character, the patriotism, and the ambition of the northern people, and was devoted to the preservation of the union, as the condition of the future power and greatness of the republic.

The following passage from one of his speeches, as a specimen of his oratory, and a proof of his devotion to the Union, may be almost looked upon as a prophecy, too literally and terribly fulfilled. Now that the cornfields have been thoroughly cleared of their produce, that the woods are strewed with fallen leaves, and the shortened days bespeak the near approach of winter, when the fields in the mornings are crisp with the glittering rime which soon dissolves beneath the autumn sunbeams, when angling for the season has fairly closed, and even the sportsman's ardour has begun to languish, then commences the most renowned and exhilarating of all rural pastimes the thoroughly British sport of fox hunting.

The period over which it extends comprises nearly six months, from the latter part of October to the beginning of April. Much of that space is of course, however, wholly unavailable for hunting purposes, whilst the ground is either bound by hard frost or covered with snow. Though this sport requires, for its exercise, the possession both of a considerable amount of physical courage and activity, and of pecuniary means to sustain the expenses which it entails, there is, nevertheless, no amusement which engages so large and universal a sympathy with all classes of the community.

No Briton, however unable he may be from the circumstances of his position to take an active part in the chase, can refrain from experiencing a mingled feeling alike of envy and admiration as he witnesses the gallant array of horsemen assemble at the meet; see the grand 'burst' when the fox has been started, and the cry of Tallyho! A scene like this stirs the blood in the veins of the most sluggish, whilst with the devotees of the exciting sport, the enthusiasm felt is such as frequently remains unimpaired by the progress of years or the chills of age, and the gray headed fox hunter of threescore may often be seen following the hounds with the same ardour as the stripling of eighteen.

As is well known, much of the success of a 'run' in hunting depends on the condition of the atmosphere. When this is very dry, or when a sharp northerly breeze prevails, the scent or exhalation from the hunted animal is rarefied and dissipated, and becomes consequently impossible to be traced and followed up by the dogs.

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When, on the other hand, the air is moist, but without the presence of actual rain, and a gentle gale blows from the south or west, then the scent clings to the adjoining soil and vegetation; and a more favorable condition still is, when it is suspended in the air at a certain height from the earth, and the dogs are enabled to follow it breast high, at full speed, without putting their heads to the ground. In reference to this subject we may here introduce the celebrated old hunting song, which depicts very graphically the incidents of a fox chase:. On horseback, on horseback, together we'll trot: Leave off your chat, see the cover appear; The hound that strikes first, cheer him without fear; Drag on him!

How complete the cover and furze they draw! Who talks of Jolliffe, or Meynell? Cast round the sheep's train, cast round, cast round! Try back the deep lane, try back, try back! I hear some hound challenge in yonder spring sedge Comfort bitch hits it there, in that old thick hedge. Pick through the ploughed grounds, pick through, pick through; Well hunted, good hounds, well hunted, well hunted!

If we can but get on, we shall soon make him quake; Hark! I hear some hounds challenge in midst of the brake; Tally ho! Clap round him, dear Jack, clap round, clap round! Hark Lasher, hark Jowler, hark back, hark back! He's jumping and dangling in every bush; Little Riot has fastened his teeth in his brush! Whohoop, whohoop, he's fairly run down!

Whohoop, whohoop, give Torn his half crown! The leaps taken by fox hunters during the chase form alike the most exciting and perilous part of the pastime. In Leicestershire, which is generally regarded par excellence as the hunting county of England, two specially formidable descriptions of fences require frequently to be surmounted.

Hemingway on Hunting

These are the ox fence and the bullfinch fence. In the former, which is rendered necessary in the locality as an effectual barrier to the roaming of cattle from their pastures during the season of the oestrus, or gadfly, the adventurous votary of Diana finds himself confronted by a wide ditch, bordered by a strong blackthorn hedge, and beyond that by a railing four feet in height, all of which obstacles must be cleared by him and his steed.

The bullfinch fence, on the other hand, of still more frequent occurrence, is a thick and lofty quickset hedge, of perhaps half a century's growth, with a ditch on one side, and requiring to be charged at full speed by the horseman, who manages to push through, whilst the bushes close after him, leaving no more trace, in the words of 'Nimrod,' 'than if a bird had hopped through. In many parts of the country, and more especially in Ireland, stone walls are of common occurrence, and to clear these with success, calls forth all the courage and enterprise of the fox hunter.

Must redeem within 90 days. See full terms and conditions and this month's choices. Tell us what you like, so we can send you books you'll love. Sign up and get a free eBook! Hemingway on Hunting By Ernest Hemingway. Price may vary by retailer. Add to Cart Add to Cart. Hemingway on Hunting Introduction 1 In the summer of , Hemingway wrote to a friend: Hunting has been a defining characteristic of human behavior for over two million years. The magnificent cave paintings at Lascaux in France, among our earliest artistic representations, celebrate the hunt and its bounty. Beyond its fundamental function as a means of providing food and clothing, hunting is ritualized by many cultures and the sanctity of taking a life is acknowledged as a natural part of the cycle of life.

A Food Lover’s Book of Days

It has been recorded that the Bushmen of the Kalahari, for example, always celebrate the success of an eland hunt with ritual dances. In ancient Greek mythology, the hunting and successful killing of stags and wild boars were distinguished as heroic acts of valor that marked the completion of a significant rite of passage. For the Greeks, the hunt was sacred to the goddess Artemis, and foremost among hunters was the hero Orion, who as a constellation shines brightly in the night sky, a harbinger of hunting season. Hunting constituted a social class in ancient Egypt, where the sport was reserved for rulers and their nobles; likewise, the kings of Assyria and later Persia were also partial to the chase, as is shown by hunting scenes depicted on the walls of their temples and palaces.

In the first, second, and third centuries, the Romans turned hunting wild animals into a spectacle, importing all manner of big game from Africa for mock hunts in the Coliseum and other amphitheaters throughout the empire.

More books from this author: Ernest Hemingway

The distinction between hunting for food and hunting for sport, however, was made early on, and from the latter a code of behavior developed for the hunter. By the Middle Ages in Europe, codes of behavior demanded that a hunter track down and kill any animal he may have wounded. Hunting game with firearms, which began in Europe as early as the sixteenth century, enabled the hunter to kill game at greater distances and in larger numbers.

The extreme consequence of this innovation was that by the nineteenth century, overhunting of areas around the globe had led to the tragic extinction of a number of species, notably the passenger pigeon in America, and the virtual extermination of others, such as the American bison. The concept of game conservation soon developed, especially in Africa, where conservationists recognized the need for stewardship in order to preserve wildlife and its natural habitat for future generations.

Of course, the need for wildlife conservation is not simply a result of overhunting, as has been pointed out by many specialists, including Norman Carr, one of the first game wardens in Africa and an avid hunter and naturalist with whom I apprenticed in the Luangwa Valley, Zambia. Norman often said that even more important than managing wildlife—animals usually can look after themselves—it is important that there is sufficient habitat for the complete range of all the species to live in harmony with one another.

Hunters are at the forefront of wildlife conservation in America, where hunting continues to have great appeal despite ever increasing urbanization and suburbanization. However, the act of killing is, I believe, a deeply personal matter about which every individual has strong views.

Hemingway offered his own insight in his treatise on bullfighting, Death in the Afternoon: Because the other part, which does not enjoy killing, has always been more articulate and has furnished most of the good writers we have had a very few statements of the true enjoyment of killing. One of its greatest pleasures, aside from the purely aesthetic ones, such as wing shooting and the ones of pride, such as difficult game stalking, where it is the disproportionately increased importance of the fraction of a moment that it takes for the shot that furnishes the emotion, is the feeling of rebellion against death which comes from its administering.

Once you accept the rule of death thou shalt not kill is an easily and naturally obeyed commandment.

Life Is Meals

But when a man is still in rebellion against death he has a pleasure in taking to himself one of the Godlike attributes; that of giving it. This is one of the most profound feelings in those men who enjoy killing. These things are done in pride and pride, of course, is a Christian sin, and a pagan virtue. The clarity and conviction evident in the above statement arises from an extraordinary combination of qualities: His father, Clarence Edmonds Hemingway, loved to hunt and fish.

From early on, he took the young boy along with him hunting near their summer cabin, Windemere, on Walloon Lake in northern Michigan, and on outings in the fields flushing snipe north of Chicago. He straps on an old powder flask and shot pouch and half an old musket over his shoulder. One wonders at such an early tutelage! Nonetheless, young Ernest continued to work at his marksmanship, later joining the rifle club in high school, where he recorded a consistent score of out of , shooting a rifle prone at a twenty-yard range—all in spite of a defective left eye that was later to keep him from enlisting in the army.

Clarence Hemingway, a fine wing shot and a member of the Chicago Sharpshooters Association, taught his son how to shoot with a shotgun at an early age.

Once a week on Sundays during the summer months at Windemere Cottage, Clarence Hemingway would organize for his family shotgun target shooting with a hand trap and clay pigeons. Ernest received his first gun, a gauge, single-barrel shotgun, from his grandfather, Anson Hemingway, on his tenth birthday, and Ernest celebrated his eleventh birthday at Windemere among friends and family with a barbecue followed by a shotgun shooting competition.

Clarence taught him gun care and safety, how to dress a kill, and even how to make bullets from an old Civil War mold that his father, Anson, had given him. Throughout his childhood Hemingway heard about the deeds of pioneers of the Old West and soldiers of the Civil War, especially from his grandfather Anson. The elder Hemingway had come West in a covered wagon when he himself was a boy and had later fought in the Civil War as a volunteer in the Illinois infantry regiment.

But for any young boy growing up in the first two decades of the twentieth century, it was Theodore Roosevelt—western rancher and huntsman, President of the United States, and later African hunter and South American explorer—who inspired the imagination and fueled the desire to explore and hunt in the great outdoors.

In , when Roosevelt came to Oak Park on a whistle-stop tour after his African safari of the previous year, Ernest, in his own little khaki safari outfit, was standing alongside his grandfather Anson, cheering on the great African hunter and rough rider of San Juan Hill. The fresh scent of a new frontier and the thrill of the hunt, both with their overwhelming sense of valor and excitement, would captivate Hemingway for the rest of his life.

Clarence Hemingway educated his boy about nature and taught him the fundamentals of scientific observation. He frequently read to Ernest from natural history books filled with colorful illustrations. At a young age, Ernest joined the Agassiz naturalist club, of which his father was a leading member. As part of his early instruction, young Hemingway would accompany his father to the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago to see the zoological specimens, especially the incredibly lifelike displays of animals that were an innovation of the master taxidermist Carl Akeley.

In particular, the great Hall of African Mammals, with its sealed glass cases enclosing gazelles, wildebeest, rhino, cheetah, leopard, and kudu, would have impressed the boy, as frequent trips to the Roosevelt Hall of African Mammals at the American Museum of Natural History with my father did me in my childhood.

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