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risk my reputation.


Another fellow I took calling for the first time was Tim. He and I worked together at the time. As with Todd, we talked about going calling, said he had a good spot, so one day we set it up. Tim brought along his young son who was about 7 years old. Tim had a bor- rowed 220 Swift with him that day. On a dark, cloudy morning, at the crack of daylight, we went to his spot. Looking it over, I picked a spot with good cover to the south. Bad thing was that you could see only about a hundred yards across a little valley with a good number of 4-ft. to 6-ft. small trees, briers and some grass. It was brushy but you could see pretty well. However, to the north you could see for 350 yards or more across a picked bean field. The wind was out of the southwest and I thought a dog may come out into the picked bean field to catch our scent, but would most likely stay in the cover. Explaining this, I asked Tim which way he wanted to watch. Of course, having watched predator vid- eos taped in the western states where you can see dogs coming for hundreds


of yards, and having a 220 Swift in his hands, he naturally chose to watch over the big field.


Tim and his son sat down against


a brush pile while I moved over the little hill about 25 yards from him, where I would not be skylined by a dog coming from the cover. I sat down on my little bleacher-type seat and noticed that to my left I could see only about 50 yards down a little tractor lane. I thought that if a coyote came from that direc- tion I would not get away with much movement so with the bipod extended I shouldered my rifle and pointed it to my left down the tractor lane. I figured if a coyote came in from my frontal position I would surely see it in time to position my rifle for a shot before it would see me. Using a standard Crit’R•Call, I laid


into it and blew a dozen or so short, high pitched squeals, waited 10 or 15 seconds, and hit it again. With both hands on my rifle I focused on the tractor trail and waited. Nothing moved for a couple of minutes so I squealed a few more times and got ready again. Not 30 seconds after the third little series I looked di-


rectly in front of me and was completely surprised to see a coyote standing broadside at what I later paced off at 33 paces, staring directly at me. How in the world did that coyote get there without me spotting it? No doubt I was busted. I just stared at it thinking of what to do now. Should I turn fast and try what certainly would be a running shot, or try to slowly move into shooting position. I decided the slow approach would be the best. Either way, I figured I was looking at a running shot at best. I shifted down into turtle gear and as slow as I could, I slightly raised my rifle to get the bipod off the ground and slowly moved it 90 degrees toward the coyote. I just knew there was no way that dog would stay put, but I had to try.


I had my Browning BBR, a bull- barreled 22-250 with a custom-made Lone Wolf thumbhole stock. With the bipod it weighs around 10 pounds. It’s heavy! It felt real heavy when I began to make my move. Slowly moving my rifle, I fully expected the dog to tear out of there. For whatever reason, the coyote stayed put. As the bipod touched


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THAN ORIGINAL ND-3


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