Just for the Record

8 Dec

I saw three big bucks  while I was hunting during gun season. I got nary a shot.

A large 8-point snuck down out of a backyard, into a drive, as I was in a high tree stand 100 feet away with a natural buckthorn orchard between us.

One came down a steep bank into stream ravine following a doe and crossed the streambed onto a small honeysuckle filled flat.  I was over 100 yards away up on the bank  and back by a shed.  If I had immediately pulled my gun up I might have been able to get a shot off.  But I could hardly believe what I was seeing.

I watched the pair–the buck actually, for the doe just melded into the brush.  I was able to pick out the buck’s antlers intermittently for about five minutes.  They were never in a hurry.  I think they just crossed on their own and were not caught up in early stages of  the drive that was underway.

Twenty minutes later, the man hunting from a stand on the other side of the stream ravine from me fired twice.  I thought for sure  those two deer were the object of his shooting.  Turns out they were not–there had been 5-7 other deer pushed by the drive.  But those two ran out in the general confusion.

Five  to seven minutes after Bob in the tree shot, I saw another buck down on that flat piece of overgrown flat.  He was just moseying along in that thick huneysuckle.  He stood in it.  I could see his tail, his legs, his antlers, his head.  All behind thick stuff.  I could not take a shot that I thought had a good chance of hitting him.  While I was watching him, gun at the ready, Daren came up from behind, finishing the drive, wondering what I was watching.

He came over and said, “Well, there’s no deer there now”.  Bob had shot a spike horn buck. We walked around and over, and I asked Daren if maybe we should push that small piece of brushy ground down by the stream since I thought the buck was still there.

That did not happen.  Daren laughingly told me to go after it myself as he went to get his truck.

So I put three shell in the gun and walked down, picked up the fresh trail, the fresh scat, followed it around and about until suddenly, at the very tip of the area, something large jumped into the stream and crossed ahead of me up a very steep bank.

That buck had bedded down in all that brush.

Ah well.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: