Barry Winders watched the bird drop out of the sky and into the woods. His brother chuckled. “You should have steered him to the left, Bee. Now you got to go into Jepson’s woods to find him.”
Barry scowled. He handed his shotgun to his brother and headed for the edge of the trees. Jepson’s woods lay in a rural section between Apple Creek and Dalton, Ohio, and the fields surrounding the woods were prime hunting grounds for pheasant. But the woods themselves near Jepson’s pond were still wild and choked with underbrush. To find that pheasant in there would take some work. He looked at his dog and swept his arm across the area in front of him.
“Butch, hledeg! Find dead!”
hledegButch was good. He wouldn’t stop until he found the bird. The German Shorthair ran along the edge of the brush exc
