I made two stands last week with my InsectaPro. My decoy is a couple of tall strands of wheat sticking out of some simulated corn cobs.
On the second stand, I was playing the hopper blues, and on the third set of calls, out of a ditch comes this huge grasshopper. He was a hard charger till he saw the corn cobs had no corn, then he veered off to the left, but he kept his eyes on the wheat.
I squeaked at him, but he wouldn't stop. I finally spit a little tobacco juice on my hand and hit it with my other fist. He did an about face and just stood there about 25yds out. I settled the cross hairs on his thoracic region and squeezed of a shot. Splat!! The .25 grain ballistic tip entered just after the second leg and under the lateral lobe of the pronotum. The bullet splashed! I know I should have used a .30 grain but I had a bunch of these .25grs and decided to use them. Bad decision I know.
The hopper turned over backward like a rabbit getting off. He didn't act if he was even hit. I shot him again a little back off the third leg and got in between its armor plate on its abdomen. That made a difference! He doubled up and jumped around in a grasshopper death spiral. After acouple of spins he takes off back toward the ditch he came out of. I thought I had lost him for sure. I checked all around for any more hoppers that may have been lurking but there were none.
Satisfied that the stand was finished, I went to the ditch. There was juice! Tiny droplets of juice,..not the kind that was in drops, but medium velocity juice splatter that showed he was on the move. It was exciting. I hit him twice and he was still trying to move away. Finally, down in the ditch he was hiding in a crawdad hole. Just the end of his subgenital plate could be seen, and his large legs could just barely be seen under his body. WOW! He knew I was coming for him and he ducked into the first shelter he could find. It just wasn't big enough.
There I was staring at his aedeagus wondering if I should shoot him again or reach down and pull him out.
It was too chancy. He could have a lot of hop in him yet, and I didn't want to let him suffer. I put another round in him and he went limp. I knew it was over after a few moments of pushing him with my boot.
Picking him up and looking at him was as much fun as I've had since we lost our lead bullets and the government took our hunting privleges away.
I'll put this one in my hunting diary for sure. He will look great pinned on my cork board in the reloading room.
Pack