I called the dog and walked back down the gravel road to the farmhouse where I had parked. I put Sam and my gun in the truck, knocked on the door and asked if I might borrow a fishing rod. Looking through the farmer's tackle box, I found a Creek Chub Injured Minnow, a wooden plug with propellers and big treble hooks at each end. At the pond I cast the Injured Minnow over the pheasant, snagged it and reeled it in. Walking back down the road with no gun, no dog, a fat rooster in one hand and a fishing rod in the other, I hoped someone would drive by and see me. Alas, no one did. I was dying to tell somebody that the pheasants were hitting surface lures.