Predator Call

I gave a female puppy to my good friend, J. Martin Bassinger at Snyder, Texas.  J. Martin is a youthful 78 year old bobcat hunter.  He wanted a dog that had a little more nose than some of his running walker type hounds as it can forget how to rain in his country.  Both of us felt that the little female would fill the bill with a little work.

For one reason or another, Ten was timid and difficult for J. Martin to handle.  I feel that this caused by a combination of the dog’s personality and other stimuli in her environment at a very critical time as she is growing.  At any rate, I told J. Martin if she did not suite him for any reason, I wanted her back. 

He brought her to me last week and I have begun to mess with her everyday.  I put her in a kennel with her brother, Rip who is very outgoing and has never met a stranger.  I started hunting her this week and have seen a marked improvement in her personality.  She is really gentling down and is making a hand in the woods.  She is giving mouth on track and is an extremely hard tree dog.  While having a dog returned is usually a bad sign, I am very pleased with this acquisition.  She is going to compliment my pack and make a heck of a hound.  Of course J. Martin said that she was going to make a really good dog, she just did not work for him. 

See you outdoors,  Gary

Steve, Dustin (aka-Shed) and I drove to Dryden, Texas Friday afternoon to try to call up a bobcat for CARNIVORE.  We made one call that evening that produced 6 deer but no predators.  Saturday morning, the first stand yielded a gray fox that could not resist the sound of Cottontail Duet.  I had been playing the distress cries of a grown cottontail which I am sure had lured him into the area.  As soon as I switched the Compucaller III to the “duet”, the fox dashed from a thicket with a mockingbird pecking at his back.  Shed missed his first shot as the trigger pull on his Savage Model 10 is a little lighter than he is accustomed to.  The fox did not spook and his second shot was true.

The third stand produced another fox that pranced up to the caller with his tail arched.  He was trying to make himself appear to be about twice his size.  After nosing up to the caller, he trotted back toward cover.  Shed “gave him a barrel” but the bullet appeared to to hit under the little critter. 

Believe it or not, it was difficult sleeping in our old cabin for the recent rains have produced quite the mosquito population.  We ended up having to shut the doors which made it awfully hot; too hot for this old man.  We decided to drive back to civilization and air conditioning.

See you outdoors,

Gary Roberson

Trying to get the hounds on a fresh bobcat track had proven to be more of a task than what we expected.  I decided to increase our odds by calling one up.  I told Brian Hawkins and my son, Steve to go in one direction and I would go another.  Two callers would double our odds which I felt were pretty slim in the 93 degree heat. 

We were shooting an episode for CARNIVORE TV and needed a bobcat in a tree so that young Colter Kaspar could have an opportunity to take it with his bow.  We had traveled many miles of ranch roads that morning without crossing bobcat scent that was strong enough for the hounds to trail.

My GPS set on the hunt/fish mode indicated that the critters should be feeding from approximately 4:45 p.m. til 6:45 p.m. as “Best Times”.  I told J. Martin Bassinger that I would leave a radio with him and should I get a cat to respond, give him a call.  It was so hot that I waited until about a quarter of six before leaving the house.  I decided to leave the Compucaller III for Steve and Brian while I would do a little squealling on the Mini Blaster.

Of late, I had been calling exclusively with the Compucaller III and must admit that it felt good to go back to my “pet” hand call of all time.  On the second series, I peered around the deer blind that I was using for a shade and saw a big tom bobcat loping in to the call as if he was a coyote.  Immediately, I got on the radio to J. Martin as I was trying to inform him of my success without alarming the cat.  The wind was in my face and helped to cover my radio transmission.  After hearing J. Martin verify my call and say “I am headed your way,” I turned the radio off.

I called to the cat, covering the bell of the call in an attempt of lowering the volume and turning up the pitch.  I had been successful as I could see the sunlight shining off what had to be the back of the cat, it was the only thing horizontal in a vertical world.  When the shine disappeared, the cat’s head appeared on the ground near the root of a purple sage. 

I continued to squeak to the cat, hoping to keep him around as long as I could.  The longer he was there, the fresher the scent would be when the cavalry arrived.  The cat seemed to relax a little and boldly walked into the open, cutting the distance between us.  When approximately 40 feet, he walked under the deep shade of a thick bush on dthe edge of the sendero and lay down, facing me. 

From time to time, the tom would look up at me standing only partially concealed by the blind.  He seemed not to be alarmed or concerned about catching supper.  When Dennis Kaspar and Ty Greene arrived, I was pointing to the cat.  Dennis saw the cat stand and trot away. 

While we did not catch this tom, the dogs did a great job for over two hours.  I must admit that blowing blasts on the Mini Blaster felt pretty good and I know it sounded good, at least to me and Old Tom.

See you outdoors,

Gary Roberson  

To be honest, I was beginning to sweat a little.  The chances of getting a bobcat treed for Colter Kaspar were decreasing as the heat began to climb.  J. Martin Bassinger had been trotting his hounds for most of the morning without once getting his hounds to so much as wag their tails as if they smelled something that they liked.  We called it quits around noon and commenced to make plans for the evening’s hunt. To increase our chances of getting the hounds on a fresh track, I decided to send Steve and Brian with the Compucaller III in one direction and I would go another with my Mini Blaster.  If either party called a cat, they were instructed to radio J. Martin and he would bring the hounds.

I left the house around 6:00 p.m. and drove to a deer blind that straddled the intersection of several senderos.  I climbed the short ladder that lead to an open porch on the same level as the blind.  I decided to call from the shady porch rather than deal with the heat that was no doubt locked inside the enclosed plywood structure.

Shortly after the second series, I poked my head around the blind to see a large bobcat loping across an opening in route to my artificial rabbit.  I ducked behind the blind and jerked the radio from my pocket, “I’ve got a bobcat”.  After a period, with no response, again I said “I’ve got a bobcat!”  This time, J. Martin came back, “Gary, did you say you had a cat?”  Again I responded, “Yes, I’ve got a cat” and turned off the radio. 

The wind was blowing from the cat to me and I hoped that I did not alarm him.  I went back to the Mini Blaster, in an attempt to keep the cat entertained until the other hunters could get there with the dogs.  I cupped my hands over the end of the call and bit down on the reed in an attempt to make a higher-pitched sound with less volume.  Staring into the brush where the cat had disappeared, I saw shine from the back of a critter moving through the purple sage to me.

Once the cat hit the edge of the brush, he laid down on his belly, studying the situation.  I went back to the Mini Blaster and the cat rose, advanced in a sneaking fashion.  The tom seemed to have settled down and would look up at me from time to time but did not recognize me as any threat.  He walked within 10 yards and lay down in the deep shade of a bush on the edge of the sendero.  Rather than risk calling to the cat, I decided to let him lay there for the longer he lay there the fresher the track would be when J. Martin arrived with the Calvary.

When the hunters arrived, I was pointing at the bobcat lying across the sendero.  Dennis, Colter’s Dad saw the cat as it rose and trotted away.  J. Martin dumped the hounds in the 90 degree heat and the race was on.  Long story short, we ran the cat for two hours and 18 minutes in the thickest jungle I have ever seen before the dogs ran up the white flag.  Cat 1, dogs 0.

It was a calm 49 degrees the next morning…the coolest I have ever seen it in Duval County in May.  Though the conditions were ideal for this time of year, J. Martin and I were nervous as we did not know how well the dogs would hunt after the ordeal they endured less than twelve hours earlier.  Taking a wet towel, J. Martin cleaned the dogs eyes that were matted shut from the irritation of all the weeds and brush slapping them in the face.

After trotting the dogs about a mile, they seemed to limber up and hunt.  Judge was in front of most of the hounds when J. Martin noticed him batting his tail indicating that he had a whiff of something that he liked.  Several of the other dogs sensed his excitement and bailed into the brush where he had disappeared.  They dogs trailed for a few minutes before jumping the cat and race #2 was underway.

Forty-six minutes later, a mature female could not stand the heat any longer and found the temporary safety of  a mesquite.  Young Colter stepped up with his Bowtech bow and sent an expandable broadhead through the cat’s shoulders ending a tough hunt.  The dog work and Colter’s shot could not have been better. 

See you Outdoors,

Gary Roberson

Last Sunday I drove to Tilden, Texas to meet up with hunting buddies, Brian Hawkins and J. Martin Bassinger.  Since we were going on a bobcat hunt with hounds, J. Martin brought eight of his hounds.  The plan was to meet up at Wheeler’s Store and then drive to the ranch near Freer. 

Shortly after arriving at Wheeler’s, three other pickups loaded with cat hounds drove up assuring me that we were indeed in “Dog Town” which Tilden was originally named over a hundred years ago.  Clifton Lyles from Freer, Mike Rooke from Woodsboro met Hensley Weaver at the store.  If my counting was correct, there were 30 cat hounds on the parking lot at one time.  Our hunting party drove south while the other three hunters headed north.

Our plans were to begin hunting the next morning about daylight but were greeted by rain, thunder and lightning at 5:00 a.m.  We caught a little break about 8:30 a.m. and struck a cat.  The dogs trailed north for a piece and jumped.  After a ten minute race, the bobcat crossed a deer proof perimeter fence.  The next morning, we jumped one more cat with the same results putting him through the high fence going west.  

The rains seriously began to fall and we returned to the lodge.  After checking the radar, I realized that we simply were not going to be able to hunt for the remainder of the day.  We loaded our gear and returned to the house without getting the footage that we wanted.

See you outdoors,

Gary Roberson   

Last Sunday morning we met J. Martin Bassinger at his house near Polar, Texas.  He already had his hounds collared with Tritronics training collars and Garmin tracking collars.  We drove onto a ranch near Lake Allen Henry and cast the dogs.  After roading the dogs (driving the pasture roads while the dogs follow looking for the trail of a bobcat) for about two miles, one of the older hounds started wagging his tail as if he smelled something he liked.  The other dogs sensed that a bobcat had been in the area and they got busy looking for it. 

Most of the dogs crossed the road going west, toward Lake Allen Henry.  In a few minutes, I heard the dogs running north along the lake shore.  In a matter of minutes, the dogs were out of hearing.  J. Martin pulled out his Garmin hand-held screen and we could see that the dogs had changed course and were treeing 672 yards away. 

When we arrived at the tree, we found a bobcat in a snag almost over the water.  When we walked out on the bluff over the lake, the female feline was at eye level.  With two high definition video cameras rolling, we captured the best video that I have ever seen.

After shooting the bobcat, Dustin Whitacre with Mossy Oak bailed off the bluff to retrieve the kitty that was getting mauled by nine excited hounds.  Dustin snatched up the bobcat and was holding it above the bouncing canines.  It was about that time that two of the dogs bumped him into the lake.  Dustin said that it was a little cool as it was 30 degrees.

See you outdoors,

Gary  Roberson

Got up early Saturday morning and took Jimmy and Lizzie out to see if we could find a coon or bobcat.  I noticed there was a slight breeze from the north and a nip in the air.  After loading the hounds, I drove past Menard National Bank and the time and temperature read 57 degrees. The dogs obviously enjoyed the cooler temperatures and hunted at a much faster pace.  As the sun broke over the horizon, I realized that my Tshirt was a little thin and had to run the heater in my pickup.  Scenting conditions were great as the cooler air and moisture helped hold the scent on the grass.  I treed 5 coons but did not see a bobcat track.  The cool mornings are a sign of the things to come.  In a month I will start calling for critters rather than chasing them with my hounds.  I will dust off my varmint calls, check my rifle for zero and get ready for another season. 

See you outdoors,

Gary