Last week I told the story of how we set our kids in a pile of apples to try to mask our scent in the field. That made me think of another related tale. ... or maybe tail.

We were again on the mountain at the cabin that sat on the dividing line of McKean and Potter counties. The kids, of course, were along with us, and we were trying to hunt and have a little fun at the same time. Now we didn’t always take them with us but frequently they were along. They seemed to enjoy most of it.

This time, we were sitting in our usual field. We sat in that big field located near Strang Hollow Road many times. The corner of it looked right out on some grubby pines and old stunted apple trees. This evening, we were split up. I had one kid at one end of the field looking down into the field and Eileen had the other one at the other end. This way we both could see each other and cover pretty much the whole field. We noticed that sometimes we would sit in one end and the deer would step out in the other end.

It was a cool evening and we all had on jackets and warm gear. At almost dark, deer stepped out at the lower end of the field. This was not how we usually saw deer here. They were far down in the field and soon it would be too dark to see them. I tried to scope them and put the binoculars on them. My daughter had been pretty good that night and she was cold and tired. I looked at Eileen and she shrugged. She couldn’t see them either. That’s when I got a good idea for some fun.

I slowly stood up and snorted. The deer below us all stopped feeding and put up their heads. Four or five stomped their feet and snorted back. Then I got out my white hankie and flicked it like a deer snorting and hopping about. Those mountain deer must not have ever seen anything like it. They were all looking and moving toward us on high alert. They were snorting back and hopping about.

I guess that I must have overdone it because after coming a little way up the field they turned tail and ran. But Eileen did take a shot at a buck who hightailed it out of the area. She rarely missed, but she said she was laughing too hard at me and my deer imitation when she took the shot. I thought it was pretty good. The kids were practicing all week after that, snorting and playing deer at the cabin.

Strang Hollow itself was a bit of a story. The funny thing about Strang Hollow was it was always foggy and full of swamps and frogs. The road was nothing but a muddy lane that wound back along Coombs Creek, which at that time had native brookies.

Back in there a little way was a very rickety bridge and a house. The last time I was up there someone lived back there. He had a patch of garden and grew some sweet corn. This seemed like it would be futile with all the deer in this area but, hey, what do I know. When we went up this road the kids thought it was scary. They loved to go down that road and look for deer but didn’t like to get out of the car.

In the spring of the year, it sounded like a chorus of spring peepers and was frequently all fogged in and the kids said it was a strange hollow, which made my wife and I laugh.

One time I saw the biggest bear track I had ever seen in the area there. I had gotten out with my wife, and we had taken a little scouting mission into the heavy cover. When we got back to the vehicle there was a very large bear track right by the vehicle. We decided maybe those kids were right and headed back to camp.

Strang Hollow was indeed a strange place.

George Block writes a weekly outdoors column for the Observer-Reporter.

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