I`m not sure what you call it, but it still haunts me.
About ten years ago, I was on a picture perfect morning hunt, on November 6th. Cold, and quiet, with perfect weather conditions predicted. The rut was really getting wound up.
I had taken a doe early on, and was hunting for a buck...pretty much ANY buck. I was perched comfortably in my climber in some oaks with very little brush, it was pretty open. I catch movement to my left, and see a bruiser buck with his nose down in typical fashion. I retrieve my grunt call, and give it a hoot. He stops and listens, so I give a slightly quieter version of the same. He looks intently for a count of about thirty, then away he goes. "Grunt, grunt, grunt"
I try, but he just continues on his way. I`m happy at just getting to see such a buck.
About an hour later, I hear the slightest noise right beside my location. The frost covered leaves would certainly alert me to a deer coming, so I recklessly turn my head to see what the tiny noise was. IT WAS HIM...and now he has caught my movement. Away he goes...AGAIN. Now, I`m not so happy. Open woods, where a mouse sounds like a moose, and I have no idea how he got so close without my knowledge.
I settle in to lick my wounds, and comtemplate.
After a time, I am stiff, and hungry, and wondering if I shouldn`t take a break, and get some chow...I slowly stand up, and stretch. One last careful look around, and I lower my bow to the ground. As I turn to face the tree to begin my descent, I hear a sort of "huff". I turn my head, and THERE HE IS AGAIN...and again, he is looking right at me. He is twenty five yards from me, in the wide open. Away he goes.
I can still see his big, white, tail, waving good bye...and I still wonder HOW he could possible move without any detectable noise.