The Urge to Kill

MANNERS & MORALS

This is a good year for hunters. Quail, duck and pheasant are more plentiful than ever. In some states, seasons had to be lengthened to thin out the overflowing herds of elk and deer. Last week, from the bare-shouldered hills of Washington to the chilling marshes of South Carolina, at least 12 million licensed U.S. hunters were still blazing away.

P: Near Danbury, Wis., 17-year-old John Bradshaw Jr. slipped into a bear den while he was looking for deer. In a quick, desperate battle, he killed three bears with his 30-30 rifle. The largest weighed 475 pounds.

P: In Westmoreland, N.H., Farmer L. W. Churchill painted the letters C-O-W on his cow Maude so hunters could tell her from a deer.

P: In central Washington, a lawyer out for his first hunt with a brand-new Winchester went skulking up a ridge looking for deer. When he found one, instead of aiming and shooting, he got a classic case of buck fever. Dropping his gun, the lawyer ran after the deer, shouting, "Hey, stop! Stop!"

P: In Maroa, Ill., Herbert Marlow, a fun-loving farmer, mounted Oscar, a stuffed pheasant, in his fenced-in bean field, then sat back to watch the sport from his picture window. Oscar was noticed by more than 100 passing hunters. Only two of them asked Farmer Marlow's permission to take a shot at him. The others generally brought their cars to screeching stops and leaped out to blaze away at the stuffed bird. After one hunter nearly shot his companion in his haste to get the bird, Mrs. Marlow made her husband bring Oscar back into the house.

P: In Phoenicia, N.Y., State Game Protector Henry Bernstein reported that red, the traditional distinguishing mark of hunters, is no longer of much help; too many hunters are colorblind. Elsewhere, experienced hands dressed so as to blend with the background, figuring that they would then have as much chance of survival as a deer.

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