Tribute to Murry Burnham

The late Murry Burnham developed one of the very first predator calls. That achievement cemented his place as a hunting legend.

Murry Burnham of Spicewood brought a new twist to Texas hunting in 1952—calling varmints. He and his brother, Winston—the famous Burnham Brothers—caused a hoard of hunters to pick up a rifle and a Black Magic varmint call and go coyote hunting when bumper stickers and lapel badges said, “I Like Ike.” Murry and Winston brought a new and exciting method of hunting—calling coyotes and bobcats to within shooting range with a mouth call that sounded like a wounded rabbit. The brothers led the field in making game calls and teaching hunters how to use them. It was a turning point in hunting history.

I met Murry in the late ’60s when I worked out of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department’s regional office in Waco. Through the years, we fashioned some hunting stories and did some gun trading. It was always a pleasure to visit with Murry and talk about guns and hunting. He wrote for The Journal many times, telling tales of hunts from South Texas to Africa. Murry was a pioneer of our hunting heritage.

Born July 1928, Murry came into the world in the Burnham “mansion”—as I call it—a 165-year-old home that sits a few miles northwest of present-day Spicewood, Texas, near Double Horn Creek. In 1855, Murry’s great, great grandfather, Jesse Burnham, left the Colorado River and his

ferry operation near La Grange and moved his family to Burnet County just east of Marble Falls. The property was his second land grant for his service in the Texas Revolution with Sam Houston.

As the years went by, Murry’s father, Morton, also grew up on the place. As a hunter, he taught Murry the “ways of the woods.” Murry said he followed his dad everywhere and learned to survive by imitating everything his dad did.

“He taught me how to hunt deer at night with a light on little patches of oats,” Murry said. “He didn’t just shine the light on the deer. He would shine the light up high over them, on and off, so that the deer would think it was lightning. When he got ready to shoot, he put the light right on them, and they didn’t even raise their heads.”

“There were very few deer back in the ’30s and ’40s. We often hunted several times before even seeing one deer. We got most of our meat by hunting—deer, squirrels, and even a half-grown ’coon now and then. I was a good shot with my .22, when I had shells, and squirrels were plentiful. We might butcher a goat or two each year, but no money—just country survival.’’

Murry went to grade school a couple of years at the Double Horn School, and then went to Marble Falls through high school. As a teenager, he made some cash by trapping all manner of varmints— raccoons, ringtails, possums, skunks, bobcats, and anything else that had a good fur. “I would skin the animals and stretch and dry the hides and make them look real pretty,” Murry said. “I would get a good batch of hides ready and send them to Sears and Roebuck for cash money, which was hard to get in those depression days.”

Murry’s keen interest in the outdoors and hunting kept him off the streets. “By today’s standards, I was as clean as a hound’s tooth. I didn’t smoke or drink,” he said. “I was content to stay on the ranch or in the woods, hunting and enjoying the wild things. Later on, in the business world, I think it paid off.”

Out of high school, Murry and Winston spent most of their time doing things related to hunting and the outdoors. Murry wrote a few columns for the agriculture page of the old Austin American newspaper, and he and Winston toyed with the idea of making a mouth call out of plastic that sounded like a wounded rabbit. This began a long career in the varmint hunt-

Predators weren’t the only game Murry hunted. He enjoyed hunting animals with big antlers, too.

ing business, which, in many ways, made the brothers famous in the hunting world. Some will say Morton Burnham originated calling up a varmint by sucking on his hand and making a squealing sound that imitated a wounded mouse or rabbit. It was a close-range calling method, but it’s amazing how far away a coyote or bobcat can hear a faint squealing sound. Morton taught the boys how to call in this manner, and they later developed mouth calls that did the job even better. Murry said, “Everybody thought we were crazy, spending our time and money, making calls that sounded like dying cottontails. We spent $90 on a rig that would make a call out of two slices of plastic and the metal ‘whiner’ out of a rubber dolly that the girls liked to get for Christmas. You remember, the doll would cry when you turned it a certain way. Well, we put that little ‘crier’ in a varmint call and made it sound like something good to eat for a coyote or bobcat.

“We made calls and tried to sell them to stores and other places, but it didn’t work. We were spending more money on gas than we were making on the calls. Our big break came when we decided to contact some of the major sportswriters like Pete Brown of Field and Stream, Jack O’Connor of Outdoor Life, and many others. We invited them down to Texas for some varmint hunts using our calls.

“Varmint calling was new, and a novelty to most hunters of the day, and the ‘big’ outdoor writers came and hunted with us. The excitement of calling coyotes and bobcats was so thrilling to the writers that they gave us some valuable publicity, and soon the cash register began to ring.”

In 1957, the future looked bright enough for Murry and Jolene to get married and live in the Burnham home just East of Double Horn Creek.

“We took the outdoor writers hunting everywhere—Mexico, Canada, Colorado, and most of the states surrounding Texas. We expanded our merchandise to include tapes of various wildlife sounds, different calls, and all things needed to hunt varmints. We got so popular that we got a call from Roy Rogers in California, inviting us out there for a few days to make a series of movies hunting coyotes and bobcats on Roy’s ranch and the nearby area. Rick Schroeder loved to hunt coyotes with us, along with other Hollywood folks.

“We put in a store at Marble Falls called “Burnham Brothers,” and by the ’70s and ’80s, things were booming. We hunted Africa and called everything with hair on it with an old Black Magic mouth call that I still have today. I was amazed that I could call up so many different animals with that old call.”

Today, the Burnham Brothers name is synonymous with varmint hunting in Texas. Gary and Deb Roberson bought Burnham Brothers Inc., expanded the line, and now enjoy a thriving business out of Menard.

“After we moved to Menard in 1985, Murry and I did some photography while calling varmints and turkey hunting,” Gary said. “He asked if I was interested in purchasing Burnham Brothers. We bought Murry out in 1991, and the rest is history.”

Murry moved from the Burnham Ranch, west of Spicewood, to Three Rivers in 2009 then he and Jolene thought they would settle down for a long spell. Then, along came an oil company that wanted the Burnham’s house for an expanded office during the oil boom of 2013. Murry sold out and returned to the Burnham Ranch and built a lavish home about 400 yards from the old Burnham two-story home place. Soon, he was feeding the deer and turkey again, and enjoying life in the woods on the ranch where he was born.

Murry passed to greener pastures in late April. I thought back to when I went to the Burnham Ranch to buy a .375 Winchester that Murry had used on dangerous game, and wanted to sell. He was 90 then and feeding a few deer every day and occasionally shooting a wild hog stealing his deer and turkey feed. I remember him telling me his shooting eye was still good.

“I can put a bullet in a hog’s ear,” he said. That’s the Murry we hunters have known and admired for so many years. We will miss Murry Burnham.

Murry also chronicled his one-of-a-kind hunting adventures, which he kindly shared with Journal readers.