Years ago I used to mess with my duck-hunting buddy's head. One time I slipped some old toddler's sneakers in my kit bag. After he had shot a duck he would put it in the back of the blind, off in a corner. Shortly before we left I tucked the ducks' feet into the sneakers when he wasn't looking.

The look on his face when he bent over to pick up the ducks at the end of the day was priceless. Not really a dirty trick, just playing with his mind...figured he wasn't using it at the time

I was bowhunting in the Northwest region of Manitoba an unexpectedly cold June evening a few years back and snapped off a poorly welded "home made" tree step while climbing up into a tree stand. Although my ribs were bruised up, my safety belt (after a three or four foot drop) saved me from a possibily injurious fall. The guide was standing there ready to hand my bow up and was most distressed with the situation.



We inspected all the welds on the remaining steps and reset the stand.



I shot a really nice bear the next-to-last afternoon about an hour before dark. He only ran about 25 yards and was dead as snot in plain view (at least as long as it was light). A little bored and since it was pretty warm (say 75 degrees), I peeled off my overalls and hung them from the stand, inverted by the safety belt. I then waded out to a big rock where I could watch the sunset (or "sundip" that far North), delved into my backpack, lit up a stoogie and sipping firey liquid from my flask (distilled, of course in a country of the same lattitude) , toasted God, the sun, the U.S., not falling my ass from the stand, sharp broadheads, Canada and the giant black bugger lying dead nearby.



I'll never forget the loud moan of the guide when, soon after dark, missing my still form lying on the rock some distance from where he landed the boat, he arrived and shined his light on "me" hanging, motionless and up-side-down from the tree. I'll bet he jumped three feet off the ground when I hollored "Hey" a second or two later. I believe I wet my pants laughing but by then I was pleasantly Depends ready anyway.



Even though I had killed a bear big enough to be featured on the front of his brochure the next year, it was the next morning before the guide thought it was funny. There was a pretty good chop on the lake going back to camp, and the s.o.b. got payback by quartering into it so that the spray soaked me for the entire 30 minute ride. The next year when I went hunting with the guy, he had nothing but ladder stands.. I wonder why?

A number of years back, my brother and cousins made a pack trip into Mexico one summer to hunt bear in the Sierra Del Carmin Mountains....We were about 16 or 17 years old I guess...

One of the happy campers was a fellow I had just met from California and he wasn't much of a cowboy or outdoorsman, but a nice guy never the less...He rode up beside me one day and asked what kind of berries are these..I said they are jew jew berries and surly he hadn't eaten any..He said why yes I have eaten a quit a few of them...I told him to get off his horse and I looked down his throat..told him they were poison and gave him some hot coffee from my canteen and told him not to piss for 4 days or he would probably bleed to death and to drink lots of water to dilute the poison. I let it go with a laugh and forgot about it...He was hunting with my brother two days later and told my brother he was cramped up and feeling terrible and couldn't ride another step and was probably dieing of jew jew poisoning..My brother said what the @#$%%& are you talking about and he related the story to him..Bud said you better piss right now, you been had..Bud said he pissed for 30 minutes and the stream ran to the bottom of the mountain...said he had never seen that much piss come out of a horse much less a human being..I really intended to tell him later in the day but it slipped my mind when I got to hunting.

Two instances come to mind on my many hunting trips in Alaska, one was on a moose hunting trip in the Alaska Range on the Delta River, my partner (Red Neck) and I had been watching cows all day and decided to climb the ridge above camp to look for bulls in the higher canyons...after a long and arduous climb, Red Neck says to me "sure could enjoy one of those Oly's you're caring"...I said HUH? didn't know it but I had the heaviest pack for the day....

Another time I was hunting on Afognak Island and upon arrival started digging like hell through my duffel bag...looking for something..the boys in camp wondered why, I found what I needed and promptly left for the timber..came back with a 10ft pole and started to attach the "spearhead" to the pole...when asked what da hell is dat? I said it was for da big bears...they promptly took it away and tossed it into the bay...I had a good laugh...

Life is good!

John

My joke goes along with the milkdud idea. Mine however uses brownies. Mold them into the shape of some sort of animal poop and get up a bit early or go take a scenic walk to the bathroom in the morning. Place the brownies on the ground so later you can find them. As you walk by with all your buddies say, "Hey, what do you think made those?" Then proceed to poke at them and say "I can't quite tell what made 'em. There's only one way to know for sure." Then pick one up and take a bite exclaim,"Its _______ poop, definitely ______ poop. It's pretty fresh too." Make sure to look like it tastes really awful. It makes for some good laughs and the brownies look suprisingly realistic.

Sevens

Get yourself a dog/coyote/wolf turd and wrap it in foil. Wire the parcel on top of your mates car/4x4's muffler. When the muffler heats up the turd starts to cook and stink. When it cools down the stink goes away

We did this to a prick of a cook on a base I worked on (being a dog handler we had an unlimited supply of dog shit ). He ended up selling the car as he couldn't find out where the smell was comming from.

Limping is a good start. I did it twice.

Limp badly from climbing off the plane up to the PH you have never met..
Nothing more rejoicing than seeing the puzzled mug of the PH. The poor man doesn�t dare to tell what he is thinking of.
As the first impression is the best, the hunt will go seamless, your PH content to get along with an easy going prankster. You know, each time they answered they can manage a lame client, not a bad shot.

One we played on a fellow deer hunting buddy was placing a coyote decoy in front of his tree stand the night before opening morning. You should have heard it. It was just cracking daylight when 2 shots rangout. Sure enough he seen and shot at the decoy twice. Not only did he shoot at the decoy but he missed it both times! You can imagine the ribbing he gets when we bring up the memories that he can't even hit a non-moving decoy.

graybird

A friend unrolled his sleeping bag in his living room in front of the wife preparing for his Montana elk hunt, just as he did every year. Lo and behold there was a sexy pair of panties in the bedroll, left by his hunting companion on the previous year's hunt. Make sure your buddy has an understanding wife and a solid marriage or this could be disastrous.

My hunting buddy and I have rifles with the same actions, but mine is lefthanded, his is righthanded. This year, I snuck my bolt in with his rifle and enjoyed his consternation in trying to get "his" bolt in his rifle.

Have you noticed the fixation we seem to have on poop? It's obviously a guy thing and hopefully not a sign of fudge packer tendacies rampant amongst us. This crowd as a whole doesn't strike me as having many peter puffers, (I hope!)

One of my favourite clients to hunt with, and now also a good friend.... (despite my sense of humour) was hunting the Selous with me a few years ago, and we had been driving through very tall Elephant grass when we suddenly came on a pride of Lions relaxing in a small clearing. As soon as we appeared they all exploded in movement and buggered off pretty damn quick. As we were thirsty, we stopped for a drink and sent a tracker off to the nearby river to check out the fishing prospects there. Peter then said he was going to take a look at the Lion spoor and climbed off the truck and went off a few yards to check it out.......leaving his rifle in the truck as I was able to cover him from there.....as soon as he turned his back, I had our driver sneak out of the truck and into the long grass......he then snuck up behind Peter and let out the loudest and most authentic Lion roar I've ever heard Peter jumped a mile, but we both laughed about it for the rest of the day......actually, we still do...... The downside is that he'll probably get his own back on me next time we hunt together.