BLACKWELL, Okla.--When I was a kid growing up in this small north-central Oklahoma town my friends and I would spend as much time as we could hunting. We didn't care what we were hunting as long as we were in the woods and fields bordering the Chickaska River near town. One of my hunting partners was Glen Bovard.

Glen and I would sneak into an open field and hide under a sheet then wait for the crows to fly into their roost tree. When the crows arrived we would throw off the sheet and blast away with our shotguns. I don't think we ever hit anything because I don't have any memories of crows falling from the sky.

For the past week I've been in Oklahoma working on a new book. My home has been a motor home that Glen has let me park beside his store so I have full utilities, including hooking my computer up to his phone line so I've been able to log on every day. Glen thought we should hunt crows again. After all, it had only been 30 years since our last attempt!

"We're a little better at it now," Glen said.

"How so?"

"We use a calling tape and set out decoys."

I decided it would be worth the effort. I bought a five-day license and met Glen and his nephew at Glen's farm before dawn the next morning. We hurried to a field on his place where he had set up some crow decoys around an owl decoy and a boom box to play the tape that he would use to call the crows in.

"I'll start the tape and we'll hide under these trees," Jeremy said. "Let the first few crows fly past, then they'll come back and we'll get some good shooting."

Jeremy and Glen were right. The birds came in shortly after first light. We let the first ones go past. Suddenly several birds turned and came back to the decoys and we opened up, filling the sky with holes. Glen and Jeremy may have mastered the techniques of calling crows, but the birds are not any easier to kill. We had several groups venture overhead but they were wary and stayed above the trees making the shooting difficult by forcing us to shoot through the branches. One crow made the mistake of swooping down on the decoys and I knocked him down with a load of 6 shot from my 28-gauge pump.

After lunch I went back to my temporary residence in the motor home to work on the book. The crow hunting had been a good break.

Oklahoma's crow hunting season is split with a fall and winter season and the actual dates vary. The cost of a nonresident five-day license is $35.00. Readers who are interested in a guided crow hunt can contact Ken's Sporting Goods in Ponca City, Oklahoma; phone 405-765-4839.

Driven Guinea Fowl in the High Veldt

Last August Doc Greenlee and I were in South Africa hunting birds. My South African friend, professional hunter Chris Steyn, had arranged for us to hunt driven guinea fowl in the high veldt around Johannesburg. Our guide for the hunt was a local farmer, whose name sort of sounded like Boats. Chris hired him because he knows the habits of wild guinea fowl. He led Doc, Chris, and me to a wooded area between several different fields.

"You stay here," he said. "I'll go over there and get on the other side of the birds and get them to fly. Some of them will fly over there, some of them will fly over there," he said, all the time pointing to different locations.

"You get in the trees there and wait for them to fly over and then shoot them."

Simple enough. The three of us spread out and waited. There were several false alarms when birds started our way and then turned to one side or the other. I was starting to have my doubts about the whole arrangement when I heard Chris shout they were coming. I looked up. The birds were coming!

Not a handful as I expected but hundreds of them in long waving lines resembling flights of World War II bombers lumbering off their airfields. I worked my way under the acacia trees, and was reminded that everything in Africa has thorns! Pricked and bleeding and hung up on the thorns, I waited for the birds. I watched them all the way. Chris was the first one to get a shot and his Spanish double barked twice. A guinea fowl tumbled to the ground.

Doc Greenlee was next under their flight path. The Browning double he was carrying was deadly in his hands and he brought down one bird. He quickly reloaded, fired, and hit a second bird that locked its wings and glided into some brush. Doc went after it.

I was last. I hadn't knocked down a guinea fowl yet so there was some question about what was going to happen next. I was ready. I was carrying a Remington Premier 12-gauge and had loaded both barrels with heavy No. 4 shot. When the birds were overhead I tore myself free of the thorn bush and ignored the thorn cuts. I shouldered the shotgun, drew on one bird, followed it, gave it some lead, and fired.

Thump! My first African guinea fowl was down and I still had a barrel loaded. I swung on another bird, fired, and missed. I quickly reloaded and took a third bird into my sights. The first barrel rocked it and the second barrel dropped it.

The next day, during our day of dove shooting, we ate guinea fowl pie prepared for us by Boats's mother. After lunch we burned up several more boxes of ammunition on South Africa's incredible dove shooting.

But, that's another story.

For more information on African bird hunting or to arrange your own bird hunting, you can contact either my booking agency, B&B Adventures via e-mail at 73737,2466@compuserve.com, or contact Landela Lodge at P.O. Box 693, Hoedspruit 1380, South Africa. Phone 011-27-1528-32439, or Fax 011-27-1528-31462.