As a young boy, I loved squirrel hunting. The season always came in a few weeks before deer season. This gave me a chance to get back into the woods, an opportunity to get used to hunting again. Occasionally a deer would get in my way while chasing squirrels. I wasn't too particular about the calendar in those days either, we could always use the meat. Our family ate a lot of venison back then.
My favorite squirrel hunting gun was Daddy's double-barrel, 12-gauge. I still have it. I would put small shot in the right barrel and buck shot in the left, just incase a big hog cornered me. The gun was short, light weight, and came to a perfect aiming point when you put it to your shoulder.
Daddy taught Keith and me to hunt squirrels much the same way we would still hunt for deer: find a place that had plenty of oak or tupelo trees, pick a spot to sit, and wait. Usually within 5-10 minutes squirrels would start moving.
Squirrels also tended to get a little crazy when the shooting started. After the first shot, we were taught to stand still for a few moments. Often, when squirrels can't figure out where you are, they'll start barking and flashing their tails. I once shot five squirrels out of the same tree. And that's the truth!
Bug Island
My favorite place to hunt squirrels was on the dim roads of Bug Island, which is located between Middleton Lake and the Altamaha River. After Joyner Island, it's the largest island before you reach McIntosh county. It's almost completely surrounded by swamps, and I think it may have some of the highest ground in our part of the county, which isn't saying much after living in Central Virginia for the past 20 years.
Getting to Bug Island was always difficult. Occasionally, you could drive around Middleton Lake through Horse Ford, an old runway across the swamp, but usually we had to cross the lake in a small john boat to reach the island.
Crossing Middleton Lake in a small boat during the early dawn was always eerie to me. I would occasionally catch myself straining to see ancient Creek Indians quietly canoeing through the black water. I often thought time stood still at Middleton Lake, it probably still looks the same as when the Creek Indians fished there over three centuries ago.
Bug Island was beautiful hunting country, covered with oak trees, dim roads, and full of game. I shot a lot of squirrels on that island while growing up in Long county.
Opening Day
The first day of squirrel season in 1977 found me heading to Bug Island. I could still see the night stars as I paddled across Middleton Lake to an easy landing on Bug Island.
I decided to stay on the roads that day. The leaves hadn't started falling yet, and I figured I would see more squirrels by quietly using the roads. The day was perfect, clear sky, no wind, and cool temps. I hadn't moved more than 100 yards down the road when a squirrel popped up right beside me. I didn't know it at the time, but I was about to have my best squirrel hunt ever.
The Blood Trail
I've blood-trailed deer before, but never a squirrel, not until that day. About mid-morning, I shot at a squirrel in the top of a big oak. I could see the squirrel falling, catching limbs, and falling some more. The squirrel got on the back side of the tree from me. I quietly walked around tree expecting to find the squirrel laying there, but nothing. I looked everywhere, yet no squirrel. I was stumped. I knew I hit the squirrel.
I finally looked closer at the tree trunk and found blood. There was actually a tiny trail of blood going down the trunk. I got on my hands and knees and followed the blood trail across roots, over leaves, and into a hollow log.
There he was, curled up in that hollow log, dead as any squirrel I'd ever shot. I couldn't believe I blood-trailed a squirrel. I've kept that story to myself for a long time.
Shaking the Bushes
I was after this squirrel, but it kept moving around the tree trunk, always keeping the tree between us. I decided to use a trick Daddy taught us, so I sat down for a few minutes to let the squirrel relax. I then tied a piece of string to a bush and rushed around the other side of the tree. As expected, the squirrel quickly move around to the other side, too. I then started yanking the string tied to the bush. The sudden movement and noise from the bush startled the squirrel, which quickly moved around the tree again, but that was its mistake. I was standing there waiting, another squirrel for the frying pan.
The Flying Squirrel
By now it was late-morning and I decided to find a shady spot to rest for a few minutes. While sitting there, I started watching a squirrel in the top of a tall pine. I wasn't in a hurry, I'd already killed a lot of squirrels that morning.
After a few minutes, I got up to continue hunting, when all of a sudden that squirrel jumped to another tree. Squirrels do this all the time, but this one made a serious mistake, it misjudged the distance. I've never seen a squirrel fall out of a tree before, but I did that morning.
It was a long fall, and the squirrel landed hard. I couldn't believe what I saw, the squirrel was stone cold dead. I thought to myself, why not, and put the squirrel in my game pouch. I was feeling cocky.
I hadn't gown far down the road when I felt something move. I stopped, a strange feeling came over me. I'm glad there wasn't anyone there to watch, because I don't know who pitched a bigger fit that day, me or that squirrel in my game pouch (apparently the squirrel had only been stunned.) We were both desperately trying to get away from each other.
After I calmed down, I decided that was enough hunting. I had killed 19 squirrels that morning.
Mike's Hunting Tip - When hunting squirrels, always look behind you. Squirrels will often start flashing their tails once you've passed their hiding spot.
Mike Griffin, an old Ludowici boy from way back.
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