Jim Taylor
My Friend Cecil Drake
Saturday, July 18, 2020, 15:29

Cecil Drake was a good friend, a fellow-minister and hunting companion. He trained Brittany's for quail hunting, his one obsession. I had never hunted quail and Cecil introduced me to that sport. Near the town we lived in was a large valley perhaps 50 miles long. In the valley are Gambel quail, Mearns quail and the Scaled quail. Those who are serious quail hunters came from all over the United States to hunt this valley and Cecil guided most of them. He told me one year that by count, the hunters he had taken out killed 9,000 quail. From the way he spoke I did not take it that it was by any means unusual.

In the hunting I did I used the old single-barrel Stevens 12 gauge. While others had tried to talk me into getting a repeater I found that for hunting use I was able to hold my own with the single-shot. During quail hunting more than once I got doubles. Long shots were not a problem and since I was slow, the shots usually were on the longer side. I enjoyed the times spent with Cecil out on the desert valley. Not just the hunting, but the companionship.

Cecil loved to hunt rattlesnakes also. He knew where all the big dens were and in the Spring as the snakes were coming out of hibernation would go out and catch them. If he was selling them to the University he would capture them alive. If he was making hatbands he would just take off their heads.

One Spring he took me with him to get some snakes for hatbands. I had the single-shot Stevens with me as well as a handgun. We drove the jeep up a wash for several miles where he stopped and got out. He said he would toss the snakes down to me and for me to just take off their heads. I said OK and stayed right in the jeep! Cecil took a stick and climbed up a ridge. Soon I could hear the rattlesnakes buzzing. He yelled, "HEADS UP!" and here came a snake sailing through the air. It landed in the wash in front of the jeep and I just stood up on the seat and took off the snake's head with the shotgun. Cecil yelled at me to "...NOT RUIN THE HIDES!" which I was careful not to do. I found that as the snake landed they usually stretched out, and if I just covered the front end of the snake with the barrel it would take off the head cleanly, usually vaporizing it in the process. The distance was only about 8 feet and the shot charge from the full-choke gun had not yet opened up. If I remember correctly we killed around 20 that day. Some were HUGE. It still gives me the willies, thinking about him going right into the brush and digging those snakes out. I don't think I ever did get out of the jeep.

The last time I saw Cecil he had prostate cancer. Inoperable. The Doctors gave him no hope. He never said a word about it to me. He still looked happy, ready for life. And since I originally wrote this Cecil has gone over the Great Divide. The world is poorer place without him.