NIMROD, THE MIGHTY HUNTER Nimrod, the mighty hunter, is mentioned in the Old Bible. In my younger days I was no Nimrod but I did have a unique way of catching a young rabbit. My father had a field which he planted in soy beans to make fodder for our milk cows. The field was near the creek. Along the creek bank was a thicket of alder bushes and willows. There was a path between the thicket and a woven wire fence. Late in the afternoon, rabbits would come out of the thicket, crawl under the fence to eat the young soy bean plants. I would walk softly along the path until I spied a rabbit out in the bean field. I would whistle softly to attract the rabbits attention as I crossed the fence which put me between the rabbit and its safety in the thicket along the creek. It was a long way across the field to a hiding place.. Home and safety to the poor little rabbit was the thicket where he was born, not somewhere beyond the soy bean patch. As I would whistle softly the rabbit would run to one side or the other and start to run toward the thicket. I would step over. The rabbit would stop and start the other way and I would step that way and head him off. When the rabbit finally decided to make a run for the far side of the field I would give chase and scream at the top of my voice. This would confuse the rabbit and it would try to return to the thicket by the creek and again I would move over to remain between the rabbit and the safety of the thicket. Soon the rabbit would tire and I would be able to catch it. As to hunting with a gun, I claim 100% success, I shot at one rabbit with a shot gun and killed it. As to squirrel hunting, I once went hunting with my father-in-law. He had a shot gun and went directly up the hill. I had a .22 rifle and went into the woods and climbed a low ridge following a path. I saw a squirrel on a limb directly over head. It was gnawing on a nut and was facing away from me. I raised my gun and fired. The animal fell at my feet and I put it in my coat pocket and continued along the path. Evidently, my bullet had only knock it out for it began scrambling in my jacket pocket. I backed up to a tree and brained the poor animal with my gun butt and swore to never go hunting again.