“IT WAS A DIFFERENT TIME” Hunting has been a way of life for me even before I was old enough to carry a gun. My dad liked to shoot a few ducks and I can remember sitting in the back seat of our old Hudson stroking the feathers of a hen bluebill that he had shot. I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking, other than admiring its beauty. By the time I was ten I was trusted with a gun and that year was able to head out into the woods alone. It was a different time; youngsters grew up quickly and developed woodsman skills and independence. I paid close attentions to my surroundings and ventured far enough to get “misplaced” a few times, but always found my way back to camp.