The Great Rabbit Chase

By Keith “Catfish” Sutton

Keith Sutton
15601 Mountain Drive
Alexander, AR 72002
501-847-9643
catfishdude@sbcglobal.net

Headline: There’s more to rabbit hunting than killing rabbits, a fact even children can understand.

One of my favorite hunting photos shows my son Zach, age six, mugging for the camera while trying to hold three big swamp rabbits. He’s wearing some old coveralls and an orange stocking cap, and he’s muddy from head to toe. It is obvious he’s one happy kid; he’s grinning from ear to ear.

That photo was taken several years ago while Zach and I were hunting with my friend Lewis Peeler and Lew’s daughter Jordan. The four of us were chasing rabbits on an old farm site in the Black River bottoms of eastern Arkansas—a little slice of rabbit heaven full of cottontails and swamp rabbits.

 

We arrived early in the day so we could hunt for several hours. That was a good decision, for the rabbit action started immediately. As soon as Lewis released his beagles from the dog box, they plunged headlong into a thicket, picked up a line of freshly laid scent, and the chase was on. The little black-brown-and-white pooches made as much noise as a bunch of Mardi Gras party-goers.

Lewis and Jordan headed down a little trail to try to get ahead of the chase. Zach and I waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rabbit if it circled back to the spot where it was jumped. Several minutes passed.

 

“What’s happening, Dad?” Zach asked as we listened to the baying of the beagles.
“The dogs are chasing the rabbit back to us,” I replied. “Whenever a rabbit gets frightened, it takes off running to get away. But it always comes back to the place where it started because that’s where its home is. If you wait close to its home, you might get a shot.”

This time, Jordan got the shot. As the cottontail raced past, she swung her 20-gauge and took aim. When she pulled the trigger, the rabbit rolled.

The two kids rubbed the rabbit’s fur, admiring its softness.

“This one’s a cottontail,” Lew told them. “We’ll probably kill some swamp rabbits, too. They’re really big—giants compared to this one.”

Sure enough, the next rabbit was huge swamper. The dogs had quickly taken up its trail and finally were coming back into earshot after a long chase.

The hullabaloo grew louder and louder as I strained my eyes to see through the dense cover. Any second now, and …

Boooom! The report from Lew’s shotgun startled me. I turned to see him fighting his way through a briar patch, from the midst of which he retrieved a rabbit nearly as big as one of the beagles running the race.

Lewis placed the big swamp rabbit on the ground, then pulled the first rabbit from his game bag. When he hoisted the two up for us to see, it was obvious there were some major differences. Both were similar in appearance—peppered brown coloration, fluffy white tails, long ears, big feet. But the swamp rabbit was nearly twice the size of the cottontail Jordan had shot earlier. It was like comparing a beagle to a St. Bernard.

“I’d be the last to complain about shooting a mess of these nice cottontails,” Lew said. “But when you can throw in a few of the big swampers, too, it really makes things exciting.”

Zach insisted that Lewis and I carry all the cottontails. “But I want to carry all the swamp rabbits,” he said.

And that he did. By lunch time, Lew and I had four cottontails apiece in our game bags, and Zach was toting three swampers that weighed almost as much as he did. The photo I shot as we ate our sandwiches says it all; this was one super-fun rabbit hunt. And the fun wasn’t over yet.

There’s no doubt about it: chasing rabbits is a fantastic sport. Hunting them may lack the sudden explosiveness of quail hunting or the mesmerism of a green-timber mallard hunt at dawn, but it has an immeasurable allure all its own.

If you carefully pick the coverts you visit, you can be fairly certain you’ll bag at least a few rabbits, making the day a success. Thus, rabbit hunting is a great way to introduce youngsters to hunting. Chances of gathering enough rabbits for several tasty meals are excellent. And whether you hunt with or without dogs, you’ll find rabbits offer an exciting challenge.

The simplicity of the sport adds to the fun. There’s no need to build blinds or stands. It’s not imperative to be out at daybreak, and fancy, high-dollar equipment isn’t needed. An inexpensive shotgun and pocket full of shells are gear enough. And when you find the rabbits, the fun comes naturally.

“They jumped another one!” cried Lewis.

We all climbed on stumps to watch and listen. The rabbit whorled wide to the west with the dogs on its trail. The pack fell silent for a minute; the rabbit had thrown them some devilish move—jumping laterally to let the dogs run by or crossing thin ice that wouldn’t support them. But soon enough, the chase began again.

I put my gun down and sat on the stump. Lewis smiled and did likewise.

“What are you two doing?” Jordan asked.

“Sometimes it’s fun just to listen,” I answered. “Besides, if one of us kills another swamp rabbit, we’ll have to go get a tractor just to carry all of them out to the truck. Zach will break down if he has to tote one more rabbit.”

“No way!” Zach said.

Lewis and I came to realize long ago that hunting and killing aren’t the same, and the latter isn’t necessary for the former to be successful. The reasons for hunting rabbits are more esoteric.

The throaty aria of beagles playing through the bottoms, the sweet smell of honeysuckle and sweetgums, a cool breeze on your face, the challenge of fighting your way through thickets you’d think would be impassable to the human body, just for the fleeting chance of getting a snap shot at a brown blur scampering through the underbrush: these are the reasons we enjoy rabbit hunting. The times when few, if any, rabbits are taken still prove satisfying because they provide yet another reason to escape to the outdoors.

Zach and Jordan sat down with us. Both were smiling, and that made me smile, too.

“Nothing’s more fun than this,” Zach said.

“Nothing,” Jordan echoed.

They couldn’t have been more right.