"First Time"
by Randy Grider
Opening day of bow season some ten years ago found me stressfully
fidgeting with my equipment In preperation for my first hunt, of the
season that Is. Last year I had made several valiant, If not Inept, and
of course futile attempts, at procureing a whitetail with my longbow. A
weapon that I had little faith In, but still a strong desire to try.
Definately gunhunting was In the plans, just not the season yet. Still
in my early years of deerhunting, and trying to constantly prove myself,
I needed the blood, one way or the other.
A friend appeared at the house while In preperation for the hunt, and
then a cousin, delaying me to distraction. Finally In frustration I
begged off, and headed for the stand. It was later than I planned, and on
approaching my stand four to five deer exploded In all directions,
crashing through the brush and blowing a protest to my unmannerly
intrusion of their favored haunt.
"Now Isn't this just great, whats the chance of me getting a shot now".
Still diligent about success, (the early years, remember?), I climbed
into my stand, I'm sure from simple lack of knowledge, and know how of
what else to do.
"Maybe they'll come back" I knaively told myself.
Beginners luck maybe, but within' fifteen minutes a lost button buck
wandered back In looking for his mother ,missed since the hasty retreat a
short time before.
Last year I had flailed around all bowseason, very unproffesionally
attempting to bring down a deer, any deer. It was hilarious, looking
back, but disappointing then. basically, I'd see deer, and attempt to
close. around here In the brushy woodlots and open fields of kentucky
that just doesn't work. these deer are hunted heavily, live In constant
contact with humans, and I was possitive were ESP, clairivoyant,
mindreading , crystal ball totin' Impossible to kill with anything short
of a long range howitzer , CONFOUNDED DEER !
All my stalking attempts turned Into frustrated flinging of arrows at
alert deer at shamefully long distances.
Young stupid, no guidance. Forgive me.
So here the little guy comes.
At a scant eight yards he pauses, my bow arm comes up, and lo and behold
the 55# bear bruin longbow, and cedar shaft do their job, with I'm sure,
little help from me.
At the Impact ,the yearling empties his lungs, spins around, tears off
running right behind me, the direction he came from, where he must think
he will find safety from whatever happened to him. He ran Into two trees
before collapsing and kicking his last a mere 15 yards from where he started.
"Damn !" was the only word I could find. My first witnessed bow kill, I
was Impressed, expecting long tracking jobs. Gun kills were usually
pretty spectacular, the victim would rear up,drop, or cartwheel most of
the time, but still would move a ways from the scene of the crime. But
this arrow thing worked quick, literally seconds.
Of course everyone got a good laugh at the minute little yearling that I
drug In,but this deer was different. This deer was earned. A whole year
prior, slugging along, with no success, It was my first true kill.
Several prior had fallen to the rifle, but this one had a sweeter taste.
How many people had done this? Tens of thousand fall every year In my
state to the modern rifle, and even blackpowder enthusiast, but how many
people went out with a stick and homemade arrow and harvested a deer?
Maybe I just like to be different. Never did really follow the crowd.
Had a neighbor one time that said" I ain't gonna be nobody but me..,
seven days a week!" Thats always stuck with me.
No trophy rack adorns the wall, only a snapshot photo of my first
remains as proof , but the memory Is etched In my mind, never to be
forgotten If II lived to be a hundred and ten, sorta like
indian drawings on a cave dwelling wall.
It proved to me the killing power of the bow and arrow, If the hunter
does his part, and within a years time I no longer felt the need or
desire to hunt with a firearm.
Put a price on that.