
by Patrick Hunter When all the leaves have fallen and the December frost starts to bite the edges of the pine straw, most hunters in the Southeast have hung their hats on white-tailed deer season. Like a butterfly re-entering its cocoon, deer hunters evolve into waterfowlers that crowd the swamps and marshes, all hoping for a chance at a greenhead. But up on the hill tucked away in the thickets, hiding in the bunch grass or cloaked in the spartina grass of the salty creeks are a different type of gamebirds. They’re upland birds, and they haven’t been forgotten, just merely...





