A Snake-Free Environment

from Texas Fish & Game March-April 2023

De-Brace Yourselves!

THE SUN WAS COMING UP as Wrong Willie strapped on his snake guards while keeping a wary eye on the area around us. “I liked it be er two days ago when it was too cool for the snakes to be out.”

“I’m not worried.” I studied the overgrown fencerow beside my truck.

“I’m not worried either. Just careful.”

I reached into the bed and plucked out a low-slung folding camou age chair I’ve used for years while hunting turkey. Once I’m se led in and comfortable, my rear is barely two inches o the ground.

Willie’s eyes widened. “You’re not gonna sit in that, are you? at’ll put you almost nose to nose with the ra lesnakes.”

“We haven’t seen one out here yet.”

“So that’s why you’re wearing snake guards, too?”

“It’s those stories James told while he was showing me the lease.”

I followed James through the lease for three hours that rst day as he showed me the best spots to hunt deer, turkey, and hogs, all the while lling the silent spells with stories about nding ra lers in his deer stand, curled up under his truck, and waiting patiently beside the gates.

Willie straightened up and double-checked the grass at our feet, then gave the contents of the bed of my truck a good exam, as if snakes are bad about climbing over the tailgate. “I wish you hadn’t told me about that one crawling into the stand with him.”

“I wish he hadn’t told me, either.” I adjusted one of the guards around my shins. “But we’ve been lucky so far. I’m wondering if all these hogs have eaten most of the snakes.”

“Let’s change the subject.” Willie picked up a feeder motor. “I found this one on an old feeder a couple of weeks ago. I got it going. We can bolt it back when we stop for lunch.”

Except for the rust, widely-spaced scratches that could have come from a bear or a Sasquatch, and a couple of dents, it looked as if it might run. He held it up, as if observing a found diamond. “It’s set to go o at seven in the morning and the evening, but I had a li le trouble with the timer, though.”

He paused when a turkey gobbled in the distance.

I forgot the motor when another bird responded from a di erent direction. My box call was on the tailgate, so I picked it up and struck a couple of hen yelps just for grins. “We need to get se led in somewhere.”

Willie thumbed three shells into his twelvegauge. “I think I’m just gonna stand beside a tree and wait for them. at way I won’t be si ing on any ra lers.”

A nearby gobbler thundered an answer.

“ at was close!” Willie’s voice was barely above a whisper. On his hands and knees, grunted his way into in the back of my truck.

“What’re you doing?”

“I intend to shoot that bird.”

“You’re using my truck for a turkey blind?”

“Why not? ere aren’t any snakes up here, and a li le elevation won’t hurt, neither. at bird was really close. Hit your call again.” e truck shi ed as Willie found a more comfortable position on top of three bags of corn that cost nearly as much as my rst car.

I did, and another turkey answered from a di erent direction.

I whispered. “You’re gonna have to be still if this is gonna work.”

“I had to move that motor. e corner was digging into my leg.”

I edged toward a nearby bush and squa ed down. All was silent for a few minutes before another gobbler called from the mesquites and brush. A second bird responded from the other direction.

Since my own shotgun was still in the case, I pointed. “Shoot that one when he comes up.”

“Don’t you have a mouth call? You’re moving around too much.”

“My legs are going to sleep.” A icker of movement through the mesquites and cholla on the other side of the truck caught my a ention. “ ere’s a bird coming from your right.”

Willie turned slowly, bringing the shot-

:: by REAVIS Z. WORTHAM TF&G Humor Editor

gun to his shoulder. He whispered, “Where?” e rst turkey must have been only feet away when it gobbled again. I’d forgo en it was coming in, and the big tom was so close I jumped. e box in my hand croaked and the second bird on Willie’s right went silent...

…at the same moment the feeder motor he’d rebuilt went o and...

…the rotator vibrated against a corner of one corn sack, sounding so much like a ra lesnake that…

…I levitated and…

…only inches away from the motor, Willie sucked all the air from twenty feet around us as he ascended without assistance, clawing his way on the roof of the pickup while...

…several yards away, a third tom we hadn’t seen launched into the air to cause… ree-toed feet rustled the leaves as they ed the scene.

…two humans to use the same bad word… …in stereo.

All went silent. e birds were gone.

Drained, I staggered on numb legs to the truck where I draped over the side like a fresh killed deer. “Your timer is o .”

He drew a deep breath, as if it might be his last. “Daylight savings time.”

“Another reason to hate it.” I dropped the box call that yelped, and a distant tom responded.

“I hope he doesn’t come over here.” Willie dropped back down from the cab and laid back on the corn. “I can’t take another one right now.”

“Neither can I,” I said, and climbed into the back of the truck and stretched out beside him on the expensive corn to recover in a snake-free environment.

Mineral Wells

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