![Image](https://jimsthoughtshome.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/jackalope.jpg)
Second, the Jackalope is not a nice furry little bunny-like creature. If it looks like a cottontail rabbit with antlers, it is a FAKE! The Jackalope is in the family of Lepus or hares. They are large, their hair is stiff and their ears are quite long. The Jackalope have very long claws and long, sharp teeth with longer canine incisors that resemble fangs. The "fangs" are not normally visible until the mouth is opened wide in an attack.
They are a very solitary creature except for the nights when there is a new moon. The phase of the new moon triggers their mating instinct and Jackalope come from all over for the orgy. The squeals, grunts, howls and growling .... along with the clawing of the ground, urinating on each other and .... oh .. sorry. I got mixed up and was reading from my notes about a motorcycle club party.
Jackalope are attracted to the mating ritual by the unearthly low howl of the female in heat. This sets the males off in a frenzy of trailing her, since her normal method is to call, but run at the same time. The entire mating ritual from start to culmination can take many hours and cover miles of desert.
The Jackalope love the dark. Their eyes shine an unearthly shade of red. Red eyes and nasal snorting around a campfire can be a signal that things are getting ready to become serious. Normally Jackalope avoid humans, but during the mating season they will attack humans who happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Since they are gathered in fairly large numbers, the attacks can be deadly.
I began hunting Jackalope in my teens. I hunted them for several years before I ever saw one. It was late 1959 when I saw my first. I was hunting with my old H&R .22 revolver. It was a 9 shot double action and I had saved up money for hollowpoints for it. Someone told me there were Jackalope on the McDowell Mountains north and east of Scottsdale, AZ. I had gotten a couple rides as far as I could and then hiked on up the McDowells. In the middle of the range, if you are standing some miles to the west, it looks like a big chimney rock on top of the mountains. Beneath that, where a couple small valleys met was a patch of green. Old-timers told me that was Fraser Spring. And that was where Jackalope often came for water. It was 'way above the valley floor, far above where most people would ever be.
![Image](https://jimsthoughtshome.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/mcdowell.jpg)
It took me the better part of a day to climb to Fraser Spring but it was right where they said it was. There was a short tunnel driven back into the rock and holes had been drilled into the rock face, from which poured water in abundance. The floor of the tunnel had been concreted to make a pool. A large 2 1/2" pipe ran from the pool on down the mountain and fed water to troughs for the cattle that grazed the valley floor. Whoever put it together had done a lot of work on it. The overflow spilled out of the pool in the tunnel and kept the vegetation green in that little area, no matter the weather. Around the pool were droppings sort of like deer droppings ... large for a rabbit. And claw marks. Scratched into the rock in various places from extremely strong claws.
I filled my canteens and then climbed up the side of the mountain about 20 or 30 feet higher than the opening to the tunnel. There I made camp and waited quietly. I dozed off and on in the early evening and sometime around midnight I heard strange noises. Scraping on the rock. Sucking sounds. And what sounded very much like belching. I held the trigger back on my pistol and cocked it as silently as possible. Then, holding the light in my left hand under the butt of the gun, I flipped on the light. There at the tunnel face were 2 Jackalope! They had been drinking and my surprise was complete. At the sudden light they larger one yelled at me something like a growl and a squeal but very loud and I jerked the trigger and missed both of them. They were gone in an instant. Nothing else showed up but some Javelina the rest of the night and the next day I made my way back home. I was more determined than ever to bag a Jackalope.
For the next year I hunted them whenever I could. Several times I thought I had spotted one and tried sneaking up on it. Sometimes if something was there it turned out to be a jackrabbit. Sometimes there was nothing I could find. It was frustrating. But my stalking skills were improving. On several occasions I sneaked right into the middle of a large herd of javelina. Once I found myself in the middle of a herd of deer. It was all very exciting but was not what I was hunting for!
In 1962 I was 16 years old and my Dad had given me a used Ruger Blackhawk .357 Magnum. That was the coolest pistol I had ever had and I shot it for many years. I figured this was THE gun to take my first Jackalope and ramped up my hunting efforts. By this time I was scouting the Bradshaw Mountains west of Phoenix for the elusive critters. The Bradshaws are raw, harsh and uninviting. They are also home to wild burros. Twice I had come across the skeletal remains of burros. The bones were picked bare and many of them showed marks of being chewed violently upon. I could not figure out what had killed and eaten them.
Camping in the bottom of a dry wash one evening I was wakened by screaming in the distance. It was unhuman .. unearthly ... frightening. I grabbed my pistol and some ammo and made my way to the top of the hill. There, in wash below on the other side of the hill was burro with10 or 12 Jackalope around it, attacking it! They had it pretty much down by the time I reached the top of the hill and as I watched they set into ripping it apart with their teeth and their back feet. The claws on their back feet were much like razors apparently. I watched this ghastly sight for 10 minutes or so and then decided to shoot one of the Jackalope. They were only about 100 yards away and I had a good solid rest, so pulled the gun up and cocked it. Immediately they all froze. I hastily put the sights on one, held on the top of its head and pulled the trigger. It leaped about 6 feet into the air and collapsed! I had one!!!! The rest of them bounded off into the darkness.
I waited for a while and then made my way cautiously down to where the carcass of the burro lay with my Jackalope next to it. I could see it was a nice sized one, but while I still a few feet from it two Jackalope came busting out of the brush on my left, roaring and growling and snapping their teeth. In the moonlight I could see their hair standing up and the burro's blood all over their faces. I snapped a shot at one and it rolled over. The other screamed and came at me and I shot it through the head.
Suddenly there was screaming and growling all around me! I was surrounded and only had 2 shots left in the .357. I pulled some shells out of my pocket and got 2 of them in the gun before they came at me. I backed up against the dead burro and shot the closest Jackalope as they came at me. Quickly I was out of shells and they were on me. I had my knife out and began cutting and stabbing, but soon to no avail. They overwhelmed me, pulled me down, killed me and ate me. I hated it. The last thing I saw was several of them eating their dead companions.
I do not recommend Jackalope hunting unless you have a very large group of trained people and lots of ammo. Take it from one who has been there.