|
During
my
time
as
regional
officer
in
St.
Paul,
Wayne
Brown
was
the
district
officer
there.
One
day
in
1979,
he
came
to
me
with
a
proposal
for
what
he
called
an
experiment.
He
wanted
to
set
up
a
decoy
deer
in
an
effort
to
monitor
compliance.
I
had
serious
reservations
with
his
proposal.
I
was
particularly
concerned
with
the
safety
aspect
since
we
would
be
encouraging,
nay
baiting,
folks
to
discharge
firearms
in
the
dark.
I
insisted
that
a
spot
be
found
that
was
backstopped
by
a
hill
that
would
absorb
even
the
most
errant
of
shots.
Brown
came
up
with
what
we
figured
was
a
perfect
location,
in
the
Beaver
River
valley.
It
should
be
noted
here
that
Brown
and
I
discussed
this
matter
some
months
ago
and,
strange
as
it
may
seem,
we
can’t
totally
agree
on
all
the
details.
The
decoy
was
fashioned
from
cardboard
with
two
reflective
eyes.
It
didn’t
look
like
much
up
close
but,
once
placed
in
the
appropriate
cover,
it
looked
surprisingly
real
in
the
dark
when
struck
by
the
headlights
of
a
car.
We
had
no
plans
to
charge
the
shooters,
but
we
did
want
to
gauge
compliance.
To
that
end
we
set
up
with
two
crews:
one
to
observe
the
vehicles
in
proximity
to
the
bait
and
a
second
crew
to
flag
down
the
vehicles
once
they
had
passed
the
bait,
to
determine
whether
or
not
firearms
were
present
in
those
vehicles.
It
was
an
interesting
night.
Several
passers
by
took
advantage
of
the
perceived
opportunity.
They
stopped
and
took
a
poke
or
two
at
our
dummy
deer.
Neither
Brown
nor
I
can
recall
that
actual
number,
but
it
was
significant;
perhaps
five
or
six.
What
we
do
agree
on
is
that
the
crew
checking
the
vehicles
after
they
had
passed
the
decoy
determined
that
the
only
passers
by
that
did
not
stop
to
shoot
were
those
who
did
not
have
a
firearm
in
the
vehicle.
The
experiment
had
proven
that
compliance
was
poor.
We,
and
others
continuing
the
experiment,
feared
the
courts
would
not
support
prosecution
of
those
who
shot
dummy
deer.
Although
the
shooters
surely
thought
they
were
shooting
at
deer,
in
fact
they
were
not.
Then
there
were
those
who
felt
the
courts
might
see
this
as
entrapment.
One
of
our
colleagues
likened
this
to
dropping
a
twenty-dollar
bill
on
the
corner
of
Jasper
Avenue
and
97th
Street.
There’s
no
doubt
it
would
be
picked
up.
I
must
agree.
However,
there
is
no
law
against
picking
up
twenty
dollars
off
the
street.
It
is,
however,
illegal
to
shoot
a
deer
in
the
dark
using
the
headlights
of
your
vehicle.
As
the
decoy
program
evolved,
the
decoys
became
more
sophisticated
and
they
came
to
be
known
as
surrogate
wildlife.
Decoy,
as
a
noun,
is
defined
as
something
to
lure
victims.
A
surrogate
is
merely
something
that
takes
the
place
of
another.
Crown
prosecutors
successfully
argued
that
surrogates
were
not
a
form
of
entrapment.
Shooters
were
not
compelled
or
induced
to
break
the
law.
They
could
just
as
well
pass
on
the
opportunities
we
were
providing.
It
was
argued,
however,
excessively
large
antlers
might
be
seen
to
be
too
great
an
inducement.
Some
time
ago
Dennis
Giggs,
Regional
Head
of
Wildlife
in
Northeast
Region,
shared
a
surrogate
yarn
from
the
early
days
of
the
program.
In
the
late
80s
a
battery
operator
took
what
he
thought
was
a
golden
opportunity
to
bag
a
moose
as
he
headed
out
west
of
Manning
for
his
night
shift,
late
in
the
season.
In
those
days
the
surrogate
targets
were
not
nearly
as
sophisticated
as
they
are
today.
When
the
plywood
moose
failed
to
go
down
he
knew
he’d
been
had
and
he
made
no
effort
to
elude
the
game
wardens
when
they
pounced.
It
is
worthy
of
note
that
the
shooter
was
also
a
guide
and
outfitter.
Apparently
he
had
been
too
busy
with
those
duties
earlier
in
the
season
to
fill
his
own
tags.
In
due
coarse
he
was
charged
with
hunting
more
than
one-half
hour
after
sunset
and
subsequently
convicted.
This
individual
was
one
to
spend
a
lot
of
time
in
local
coffee
shops.
When
word
got
around
he
had
shot
a
plywood
moose,
he
was
often
greeted
in
his
favourite
haunts
with
queries
like,
“Hey
Bud,
where
did
you
get
yer
moose
cut
up,
at
Beaver
Lumber?”
Today’s
surrogates
have
come
a
long
way
from
the
first
cardboard
decoy.
These
days
they
are
genuine
mounts.
They
move
and
they
fall
when
shot.
Several
months
ago
Henry
Kujat,
a
District
Fish
and
Wildlife
officer
in
the
Northeast
Region,
relayed
this
story
of
an
almost
successful
surrogate
operation.
He
and
four
other
game
wardens
set
up
a
surrogate
white-tailed
deer
buck
in
an
area
that
was
experiencing
night
hunting
activity
and
had
historically
been
targeted
by
night
hunters.
Two
officers
were
on
surveillance
and
another
pair
was
in
an
intercept
unit.
Kujat
was
in
the
second
intercept
vehicle.
It
was
a
cold
November
night
during
the
early
1990s.
The
sky
was
clear,
the
air
was
cold.
You
could
hear
for
miles.
After
quite
some
time
the
boys
in
unit
one
reported
an
approaching
vehicle.
Kujat
could
see
its
headlights
as
the
vehicle
wended
its
way
along
the
winding
road
allowance.
Then
the
lights
disappeared.
All
the
officers
were
wondering
where
the
vehicle
had
gone,
as
it
did
not
pass
unit
one's
location
or
the
surveillance
unit.
After
a
half-minute
wait
a
rifle
shot
was
heard.
Unit
one
headed
west
along
the
road
and
approached
a
truck
with
a
lone
occupant.
The
vehicle
was
stopped
and
checked.
There
was
evidence
indicating
one
or
two
others
had
been
in
the
vehicle.
While
one
of
the
officers
spoke
with
the
occupant,
Kujat
and
a
second
officer
followed
the
vehicle
tracks
to
a
location
where
the
truck
had
turned
sideways
on
the
road.
Footprints
on
the
road
indicated
two
individuals
had
left
the
truck
and
entered
a
field.
A
dead
white-tailed
deer
was
found
about
75
yards
into
the
field,
but
the
two
individuals
who
had
made
the
tracks
were
conspicuous
by
their
absence.
The
officers
assumed
the
poachers
were
hiding
in
the
bush
and
made
several
attempts
to
call
them
out
with
the
loud
haler.
This
didn't
work
so
Kujat
had
to
tell
a
little
white
lie
which
went
like
this,
“If
you
guys
don't
come
out
we
will
be
releasing
the
dog.”
Like
magic
one
of
the
suspects
emerged
from
the
bush.
The
other
guy
had
made
it
back
to
the
road
and
was
walking
down
the
road
allowance
towards
home.
When
he
walked
past
the
surveillance
unit,
he
was
whistling.
That
alerted
the
officers
and
they
nabbed
him.
During
the
ensuing
investigation
the
officers
learned
that
these
three
poachers
were
heading
towards
the
location
of
the
surrogate
when
a
deer
ran
across
the
road
in
front
of
their
truck.
The
driver
immediately
turned
the
truck
sideways
on
the
road
in
an
attempt
to
use
the
headlights
to
illuminate
the
deer.
Once
the
deer
was
caught
in
the
lights,
one
of
the
poachers
fired
a
single
shot,
killing
the
animal.
Two
left
the
vehicle
and
ran
into
the
field
to
retrieve
the
deer.
The
driver
drove
the
truck
on
down
the
road
to
where
the
first
intercept
unit
stopped
him.
When
the
two
men
in
the
field
heard
other
vehicles
approaching,
they
hid.
It
is
gratifying
to
know
the
poachers
were
brought
to
justice,
but
regrettable
that
the
surrogate
was
not
shot
and
a
real
deer
had
to
be
taken.
Poachers
are
opportunists.
Even
when
they
are
not
actively
seeking
game
they
will
jump
at
any
chance
to
take
an
animal.
Their
victims
don’t
complain.
The
clumsy
decoys
of
1979
became
today’s
sophisticated
surrogates,
an
excellent
tool
in
the
battle
against
poachers.
J.B.
Struthers
is
former
Chief
of
Enforcement
(Ret.)
for
the
Alberta
Fish
and
Wildlife
Division
and
a
member
of
the
Alberta
Game
Warden
Association
in
Edmonton. |
