Bird Boys

I can hear it now...


El General barks out "Straight Line, Straight Line"

The skirmishers carry their doubles at port arms and step into the waist high buffle grass. Bird boys "Oishe" and swish mesquite sticks in the brush.

Suddenly, a huge covey whirrs from underfoot like a swarm of angry yellow jackets. Some go high, some go low, some left or right, and a few behind, and as shotguns bark, some go back into the bufflegrass. The survivors regroup in the air and light 150 yards away to our right and dumps into the buffle grass just a shade behind us as the last shots fade.

Burnt powder drifts on the breeze, the left ear stops ringing and El General is heard commanding "Turn around to the right".

From the far end, a tall distinguished gentleman in a knee brace fitted over his brush pants and snake boots yells out "You know what we're going to do? We're going to wheel F**k 'em!"

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH