I was still-hunting this morning and after a couple hours I decided to take a break by sitting on a large blowdown overlooking two ravines. The woods have been quiet the last few days. "The deer seem to be moving to another part of the county!"
About fifteen minutes into it, I heard a small ruckus to my right and turned to see a BEAutiful 8 pointer walking right past at 15 yards! "How did he get there? I should have seen or heard him coming!" " Man they can be quiet!"
My bow was leaning withing reach, but he was coming my way and had me pinned down. The wind was with me, though, and I was confident that my thrift store wool and fleece outfit blended well with the upturned roots behind me. I hoped that he'd walk by, giving me a chance to arm myself. "What a great deer! - Look at the muscle!" "That's a awesome rack - Look how symetrical!"
As he moved past I grabbed my weapon and and readied for the shot. This boy was on a search though and what he was looking for wasn't here. I grunted as he walked away, then again, louder. He paused and moved on. I bleated... "Yes!, it's working!"
The buck turned and grunted, searching for the source of that plaintive call, looking through me as I tried to cover the motion of my breathing and pounding heartbeats. I looked down and didn't dare blink. Long minutes passed under his scrutiny. "Calm down...relax"
And finally, he decided that he was mistaken; there was no sweet doe here. He turned away and I readied for the shot as he was quartering away and down at 30 yards. It was farther than I like but a shot at my outer limit and one that I was confidant I could make. "That's a smart old deer; you aren't going to get another chance!" "That's out there aim high!"
I drew and picked a spot aiming for his far side shoulder, and quickly let it fly.
And it did fly! The buck ducked and took off at a trot. The arrow arced over his shoulder by a good six inches and off into the thick bed of golden maple leaves.
"Well, that wasn't a thirty yard shot!"
"Idiot!"
"You didn't settle in..."
"Rushed that shot."
"Goldenrod between us made him look farther."
"Twenty yards?"
"Downhill..."
"Did you even anchor?"
"Should of been shooting daily."
"You didn't shoot that like a smaller deer, or a target."
"You got Buck Fever!"
"Damn!"