My powers of prognostication appear lacking. The Devil Wren does not find better things to do! She soon begins emitting a low, pulsating buzz. Some of you will know the noise of which I speak. For those that do not, it can best be described as a cross between a malfunctioning electric razor and a hung over Bumble Bee. Now this is not full blown tirade mode thank goodness, and the deer show little or no reaction to it. The doe is the pathfinder with the love sick buck following her lead. She should browse a few more yards and take the tunnel like trail into the old homeplace. That will put the buck nicely into my shooting lane. That is what she should have done. What she actually did was browse past the trail entrance and follow the edge between the open woods and logged area. The 8 point of course, followed her. This development was a buzz kill, however, my freezer was full. It had been a good year with lots of hunting yet to be done. There was also the distinct possibility that she would drag him back past me, after all, the Magnolia stood at the doorway of a major bedding area. I had gotten to the Magnolia about 8:30 and planned to sit until around 2. At a little after 11, the day was young and I had already had an exciting encounter. After a few minutes, the deer had browsed out of sight and the wren had cut me just slightest bit of slack. She had taken a position higher in the Magnolia and settled down to just a nervous wreck. The broken sun dappled through the Magnolias canopy and as usual, my mind wandered..... I dwelled on the previous encounter for a bit, turning it over in my head. Maybe I should have tried to sneak an arrow through when they were in the clearing just over 20 yards away? No, too much cover and farther than I really like. I played the hand to the best of my ability and it just did not go my way. I look at the bow resting in my lap, the beauty of the wood, the craftsmanship put into its construction. I notice the inevitable dings and scratches it has incurred after several years of hard hunting. I think of the many animals taken with the bow. The biggest Boar I've ever taken, or likely ever will take, was killed with this bow. A listed behemoth north of 500 pounds. I was careless with that hog and paid a price for it, but that is a story for another time..... Don't honestly know what first alerted me, but something shocked me back to reality. Was it the deer returning? No, whatever got my attention is the other direction in the open woods. I can hear it now, a steady procession of foot falls coming from deep in the open woods. I turn my head slowly and see a deer coming out of one of the many ravines in the open woods. It's a buck! A good buck! And he's coming in hot! Head down and on a mission, he is gobbling up distance in a hurry. Boy, is he coming in fast! Too fast.......
Topic: Old Magnolia (Read 4871 times)
