TheBanyanTree: Daddy... I could see his breath

[Sachet]

Oh, yes. This is indeed a magical story, Sheri. The energy is 
different.....more exhilarating.....more intense. You did a great job 
with the pacing and sense of anticipation, leading us into the various 
moments of suspense and delight.

The other story was more mellow, but *equally* as enjoyable to read; for 
different reasons.

Hmmm....my affinity for water provides me with the best analogy I can 
think of..... this story was like the Nantahala River...rushing along 
through the forest with the anticipatory excitement of knowing rapids 
are ahead that will send that uniquely magical quiver of excitement 
through your body. The Amish story was more like my creek....meandering 
along, tumbling over rocks, around small bends & curves, following a 
slow, gentle pace through the countryside.

Both take me places in my thoughts that I embrace and enjoy for 
differing reasons. So it is with your different writing styles. The 
Amish story has a sense of gentle respect for your participants. Kinda 
like you were tip-toeing into their world with great care.

This story today, is reflecting your wonderful self-assurance and 
excitement in being able to introduce the wonder of calling the coyotes 
to an eager pair of participants.

Sheri Baity wrote:
> I was 4 hours away from home but it seemed like days before I would get a chance to see Gary and my Gi-Gi girl. Two and a half months of living out of my suitcase and only going home for 3-4 days at a time was starting to wear at me. The sign said New York City 52 miles. I had to laugh to myself over that one. So close to the Big Apple and no desire to go the distance setting here in the mountains of Middletown, NY.
>  
> It was 2 father and sons that I had left to take out coyote hunting. I gave the guys a choice. I said, “Boys, I’m getting tired. You have a choice. You can either go out hunting tonight at 11 p.m. on this full moon night or you can get up early and go out at 5 a.m. tomorrow morning.” Thank Goodness they opted for tonight. My plan was to get this done and when I got up in the morning, I was finally headed home.
>  
> I had a good feeling about this night. Full Moon has always been my special time to really get a chance to vocalize with the coyotes. It has been almost a special bonding time, a meeting of the minds, so to speak between me and the coyote. After all, full moon New Years Eve was when I got my last coyote, so the odds were good.
>  
> My entourage was John Sr and John Jr, Phil and his son, Zach. The boys are both 13. Remarkable young men with hopes and dreams seen in their eyes and eager to listen and participate. In my mind, father and sons are just as special as father and daughter or mother and daughters. I have always told people at my seminars that the youth are our future, so let’s do our part at bringing them up right.
>  
> We headed out on the gator. The temps were around 20 degrees. Not a breeze in the air, the stars just beamed and the moon lighted our way up into an old mining site. I already knew I was going to go down in the bowl, or the pit to do my calling. It would be a great place to resonate the sounds that I would be doing. I put Phil and his son Zach up, just outside of the old mine shaft. From all signs it looked like this was the coyotes den site. To the right of me about 200 yards around the bend was a gravel mound in the bottom of the pit. It stretched about 20 feet wide at the top and stood around 25 feet high. That is the spot that John and John J took. One was on each end of the top of the mound.
>  
> Coyote tracks were everywhere I looked, showing up clearly in the blanket of 4 inches of snow. With the moons rays, it was practically daylight. I gave it another 15 minutes of silence before I started calling which put it around 11:45 p.m. I could hear footsteps in all directions just inside the woods that surrounded the pit that I was in, but couldn’t see what they were coming from. It was almost eerie in a way, but thrilling in other ways. My adrenaline was pumped.
>  
> Since rabbit distress sounds work well with coyotes in NY, I pulled out my call and went into a short dieing rabbit series. Then pulled up my closed reed and barked off in a different direction. I turned my head again and came out with 2 chirps, simulating a female coyote answering the bark back. Then I started growling with my closed reed and barked, and growled some more. I pulled up my open reed and started yelping as if a coyote was in a fight and just got bitten at. I then went into more barking, growling and more yelping and ended with a very sharp bark. All this scenario amounted to about 1 minute. I let the silence fall into the air and listened. Barks and aggressive footsteps were coming closer, but still no visual.
>  
> I soaked up the noises for about 4 minutes before I did another sound. The sounds of the silence can be so exhilarating and yet have so much beauty in them. The Old Man in the Moon was smiling down on me right above my head. I gave him a wink, a smile back and went back to coming up with another scenario for any possible takers. Things were hot, I could feel it. People sometimes ask me how I know when there is a coyote in the area, it’s just a feeling and can’t be explained with words.
>  
> Back up came the open reed as I let out a deep resonating lone howl. Barking responses were heard and then the pack started lighting up with yip howls, lone howls, barking and anything else they had in their vocabulary, so what else to do now but to only join in and join in I certainly did. I was now a member of their choir. I was completely surrounded by the coyotes. It was virtually impossible for me to count just how many coyotes were here listening to all the tones. Then, we all got quiet for what seemed like 5 minutes but was only about 30 seconds. More scurrying of footsteps were heard and then, there he was…
>  
> The most beautiful sounding low toned howl came to the back of me which sounded like it came from the mind shaft where Phil and Zach were. What I came to find out later was, 2 coyotes had come up behind them and the bigger of the two was the one doing the howling. Zach had got the one coyote in his site and couldn’t pull the hammer back on his gun. He had too thick of gloves on and just couldn’t maneuver it to make the shot. His father said that he should have put the extension on the hammer before they left because there wasn’t much clearance between the hammer and scope. When the coyotes had seen him fumbling, they took off. Zach and his Dad were so excited and scared at the same time.
>  
> Phil told me later that it was the closest he had ever gotten to a coyote. And then he told me of the thrill that his son experienced. He said that his son had leaned into him and said, “Daddy… I could see his breath!!!!!” There were footsteps going in all different directions after the coyote that did the howling had left the scene with a warning bark. I knew they had cleared the area.
>  
> I had tried a few more series of different sounds to see if there was anyone else left that didn’t scurry away, but no takers. I had called the stand then, playing my normal taps on the open reed call. Everyone came down to the pit with their stories and then I also got to find out what happened with John and John J.
>  
> John said that when all the coyotes came in, that there was two that were circling the bottom of the gravel mound that him and his son were on top of, but the brush was too thick around the bottom, so they couldn’t get any shots off. He said when the coyotes first got there and then started vocalizing, it took no time at all before him and his son were back to back rather than 20 feet apart. John said, “I thought my son was going to jump right in my lap, he was so scared, and so was I! We just kept tight to each other and was hoping you would stop calling really quick.”
>  
> So I laughed and grinned and told them, “Well boys, I didn’t hear any shots or hear any screaming, so I figured you were alright for me to keep on calling.” We loaded up the gator and headed back to John’s house. On our way out, we had took a detour and drove over by the gravel mound there the two John’s were at. Sure enough, there was fresh sets of two coyotes circling the mound. 
>  
> The excitement and joy and pure rush from these father and sons will probably be the most memorable hunt that I have ever done! Hearing the stories and seeing the bonding was priceless. And to think that I had something to do with that experience was extremely humbling.
>  
> So, there you have it. No coyotes were harmed in the making of this story. It will go down in my memories as one of the best ever! Sunday morning came around and I was heading home. But with a smile on my face, the words I kept on hearing with each mile I went was… “Daddy… I could see his breath!”
> 
> Sheri L Baity
> 
> American Predator Federation
> "Where Predator Hunters Are Forming A Pack"
> http://www.huntapf.org
> 
> A woman is like a tea bag, you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water~~Eleanor Roosevelt
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