Yesterday hunting in the desert near Rio Verde, AZ with the Paradise Valley Beagles, I had an experience that stood out in the 28 years I’ve been affiliated with this mounted pack.
With an abundance of whippers-in, and a large field, I was given permission by MB/Huntsman Susie Stevenson to function as a sort of back up. My mare has been bucking through arroyos so we needed some quiet schooling time to ourselves. Shortly after casting, hounds struck a line on a jackrabbit and were away. From my outside line, I spied a couple split from the pack. We have been inundated with jackrabbits this season, and in concert with good ground cover, have been having some roaring runs. I quickly went in pursuit of the errant beagles.
Due to the undulating and brushy terrain, I lost sight of the miscreants. Looking about as I trotted along, I spotted movement. But it was not the madly feathering white-tipped sterns I was expecting–it was the luxuriantly brushed gray-brown tail of a large coyote.
Camilla and I veered towards him, and I saw there were four coyotes. My immediate thought was to keep my eye on this group and hustle them out of the area to protect the beagles. The coyotes were not very concerned about a horse and rider so I gave a few whip cracks to move them along. Instead of blasting away, they shrugged me off and continued a steady dogtrot, sharing glances amongst themselves. Intrigued, I decided to see if I could move them from the area without fanfare and proceeded to road them along as if I had picked up two couple of hounds. After about five minutes, we passed a freshly dug den, and I noted a fifth coyote had joined my little pack.
Fot the next 15 minutes, Camilla and I quietly moved the pack about at will. They were getting a bit bored with the proceedings. At one point the original, large male stopped to lift a leg. The smaller ones casually sat to remove thorns from their pads as needed, and eventually they decided to lay down in the soft grasses beneath a mesquite tree to take a rest break. Except for a couple of quiet growls between the two smallest as they settled in the grass, the pack was silent. If I changed direction, the ones outflanking the others would turn and follow the ones I was moving.
During this entire episode, I was no more than 30 feet from the nearest coyote, and on several occasions, I could just about have flicked one with my whip popper. When I allowed Camilla to crop grass, the pack would stop momentarily before moving away.
Ultimately, it was time to rejoin the hunt. I had moved the coyotes about a mile from the area we had first cast, and there was no sign of beagles nearby. We parted ways amicably, as I admonished them to refrain from snacking on small pets. It was one of those magical moments that reminds me why I get up early on a Sunday, put on funny clothing, and trailer my horse out to the desert.
But very clever of the coyotes and the master!:yes: