Imagine sitting in your den on a chilly winter night with a crackling fire gently burning. Add to this setting, a big pot of stew, a pome of cornbread, and an old movie playing on the set. Perhaps your beloved retriever or bird dog is sleeping on the floor next to you dreaming of their next field excursion, only adding to the experience. Perhaps, because it is the “season,” you have replaced your movie with reruns of “The American Sportsman” featuring Curt Gowdy, Bing Crosby, Phil Harris, Walter Payton and others. I remember many of these iconic episodes from back in the 70s. Just recently, I was searching for some of these old hunting shows and ran across several other timeless features. Needless to say, for the remainder of the evening I was completely captivated by my discovery.
Produced in the 1950s and early 1960s, the Missouri Conservation Commission produced numerous documentaries featuring many wildlife species. They include “The Mallard” produced in 1963, “Bobwhite Through the Year,” produced in 1953, “The Story of The Mourning Dove,” produced in 1959, and “Cottontail,” produced in 1955. Each of these films describe in detail the history of wildlife management of these species, challenges the species endure for survival, how sportsmen and sportswomen utilize the resource, and many other interesting facts. Though produced in color, you can tell production technology lacked the luster that we see today in modern film making. This “shortfall” only adds to the experience, allowing you to see the landscape how it was back in the day.
These films took me back to yesteryear, when I tromped the broomsedge covered hills on my grandfather’s farm with my single-shot .410 trying to kick up a covey of quail or perhaps a rabbit. I remember the challenges of trying to collect a partridge or a cottontail to bring back home for supper. Seldom was I successful, but my enthusiasm never waned as I stomped the briars and brambles in hope of flushing any species of game. Perhaps these memories of my childhood hunting expeditions urged me to watch “Cottontail” first.
Cottontails are widely distributed across North America. Belonging to the genus Sylvilagus, these rabbits can be recognized by their stubby tails with white undersides that show when they run or flee from danger, hence where their name comes from. Interestingly, however, this feature is not present in all species, nor is it unique to the genus. The generic name Sylvilagus is derived from the Latin “sylva” meaning woods and “lagus” meaning hare, together meaning “hare of the woods.” Their fur ranges in color from red to brown, to gray, and changes throughout the year depending on the season.
Cottontails often live along field edges and on farms, and other open ranges. They prefer thickets and briars that offer protection from predators. Females average three litters per year. Litter size can range from as few as two to as many as eight. Average lifespan is only around two years old. The cottontail rabbit lives as a member of a community in which many animals, plants, and events affect its life. He is an important member of nature as a food supply, for the rabbit is preyed upon by nearly every carnivore that walks, crawls, or flies, including man. During the depression, many households were sustained by rabbits and other game species. Even today, cottontails are fine table fare when prepared properly. I remember many dining experiences where fried rabbit, complemented with biscuits and gravy, were preferred over prime filets at our hunting camp. Even my mother prepared epic meals with Mr. Cottontail, even though she preferred the bobwhite quail. I cherished both at the table. Though I still enjoy cottontails for dinner, I have become tender-hearted in my maturing years, and I haven’t harvested one in years. The same is true with squirrels, though I dearly love squirrels and dumplings, I just do not care to hunt them anymore. I may change my mind if I’m invited to a few suppers featuring these critters though.
I remember quail hunting with my dad many years ago and our setter came to a point with the pointer backing. The brush top they were locked into was thick, and we anticipated the flush at any moment. My little shotgun was cocked and ready as we eased in behind the dogs. No covey exploded with a whirr of wings. We continued kicking the top to flush the bevy, still nothing. I still remember my dad telling me that it could be a cottontail, and if a rabbit burst from cover, he told me not to shoot it. He barely finished his statement when a rabbit jumped from the top offering me a perfect shot. I just watched the bunny hop to safety wishing I could have put him in my game sack. Pop’s reasoning was he didn’t want the dogs to concentrate on rabbits on future hunts. He preferred quail only and didn’t want to “ruin” the dogs. On future hunts, if I wanted to harvest a rabbit, I would have to be by myself without the bird dogs. That made it tough on me.
In the last few years, I have seen a resurgence of cottontails. My observations normally indicate that when coyote populations are high, rabbit numbers are lower due to predation. Currently, though, coyote numbers seem solid, and rabbit numbers are still high. Maybe the coyotes have found an alternative food source, at least temporarily. I hope so, because I really enjoy watching the little critters bouncing up and down the turn rows.
I invite you to search for these films featuring these novel game species. Not only are they informative, but they are entertaining for the entire family too. They remind me of the Mississippi Game and Fish Commission shows hosted by Paul Ott Carruth. Do you remember these episodes? I’m sure the archived films can still be found with a little effort. Look these up and share them with others. I have no doubt you will enjoy them as much as I do. To add to the experience, prepare a cottontail or quail dinner to share with your family. I would be willing to bet that many youngsters have never experienced a true “country” dinner featuring these entrees. Let me know if you enjoy these old films too, I bet you do.
Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it. jeff.north@northag.net
