Nature Bulletin No. 429-A   October 16, 1971
Forest Preserve District of Cook County
George W. Dunne, President
Roland F. Eisenbeis, Supt. of Conservation

****:SQUIRREL HUNTING

"Squirrelitis" is a common contagious disease in many parts of the 
country. It seems to affect lazy people more than others and the only 
cure is to go squirrel hunting. Farmers have it during the sultry dog days 
of August and early September when the hired man stops whistling, the 
mules' ears droop, and the creek dries up almost to a trickle. In small 
towns the menfolks seem to catch it about the time when the leaves 
need raking or their wives start to nag about taking down the screens, 
putting up storm windows, and other foolish things.

Every fall, hunters shoot far more squirrels than pheasants, quail and 
doves. Only the cottontail rabbit is hunted by more people, and only the 
rabbits, deer and waterfowl are hunted over more of the North 
American continent. The squirrel is Game Species No. 2. Fried squirrel 
is mighty good eating and marksmanship against the wily tricks of the 
wary "bushytails" -- is an understandably popular pastime.

It has been a good many years since we hunted any wild animals with a 
gun. It is unlawful in our forest preserves but, anywhere, we prefer 
binoculars or a camera. Nevertheless, some of our most enjoyable 
experiences and most valuable lessons in nature lore occurred long ago 
when it was too wet to do any farm work and grandpa, right after a 5 
a.m., breakfast, would take his long rifle down from its rack and head 
for the Crooked Creek bottomlands. He wore moccasins we went 
barefoot. Down in the tall timber we would squat on a log and wait, 
motionless and silent. It's surprising what you see thataway -- how many 
wild creatures decide that it is safe to go on about their business.

But if a squirrel moved, or grandpa spotted one watching us, that rifle 
came up very slowly, cracked, and down he tumbled -- neatly drilled 
through the head. Once, when a squirrel was lying flat on a horizontal 
limb, grandpa "barked" him in true pioneer fashion: the bullet went 
through the bark of the limb and, stunned by the concussion, down he 
came without a mark on him. A simon-pure squirrel hunter scorns to 
use a shotgun, which he calls a "scattergun", not only because it inflicts 
too many wounds on the body of the animal but because so many are 
cruelly crippled by pellets and crawl away to die.

Some people hunt in pairs, or singly with a dog. If one man sits 
motionless or, as they steal silently through the timber, "freezes" while 
the other man walks on, a squirrel will move around a tree and become 
an easy target for the sitter. A trained dog, usually a feist, will cruise 
through the woodland and, pick up the scent of a squirrel that has been 
on the ground, and bark madly at the base of the tree where it took 
refuge. The squirrel, watching the dog, forgets to watch the man.

We will be criticized by some nature lovers for writing this bulletin but 
squirrel hunting may be actually a conservation measure in some 
localities and certain years, Squirrel populations, like those of many 
other wild animals, seem to rise and fall in cycles. When they are too 
abundant and overcrowded, squirrels have epidemics of diseases which 
kill or weaken them and, if there happens to be a scarcity of nuts and 
acorns, many die of starvation during a severe winter. In pioneer days, 
when eastern North America was one vast forest, some years there were 
migrations, southerly or easterly, of hundreds of thousands of gray 
squirrels that even swam across big rivers such as the Ohio. What a 
sight that must have been !