This morning I was on my way with just a hint of a glow on the eastern horizon. With the rare Southest wind, I thought I may be able to utilize a stand where only such a wind works. As I reached the top of my stand I heard a doe blow at me from about 100 yards. I knew she couldn't see me, so I hit my grunter in a feeble attempt to make her think I was a four legged..off she went for good. It drives me crazy to get busted on the way out, often I spend a half hour or so covering a few hundred yards just to make it on stand without the unecessary drama. As my logical mind was doing its best in convincing my spirit that this hunt was over before it even began, the hunt was indeed ON.....apparently my grunting convinced a buck that I infact was one of the four-leggeds, and in he came crunching away like a kid in a bowl of Lucky Charms. In a matter of moments, here he was, right down my chosen fenceline... right into my shot window, 12 yard shot....just 10 minutes too early, It was indeed to dark to pick a spot. Another day I thought, as he made his way about 150 yards across an open field to the far woodline to freshen up one of his scrapes. Then I see him.....the big guy... coming out of the woods 20 yards from the other buck. They exchange a short greeting as I pick up my rattling antlers, and start cracking away. I think I was cracking a bit to BIG as they both looked my way as to say, "no thanks"! So I tinkeled them together as if I was a couple teenagers, and in he came...and fast. Within moments he was at 35 yards and looking for me. I softly hit my grunt tube, and over the fence he comes heading right up my shooting trail. After stopping right before my shot window(of course), he enters front quartering.......I decide not to shoot....shot window is small......one more step and he will live another day.......what a beautiful buck......And then it happens..in a flash he turns as if he was on a lazy susan, quartering away, and the next thing I knew he was crashing through the brush with what looked like MY arrow sicking out of his side! Am I dreaming?....He trots into the open field, stops, looks at the arrow,flicks his tail, walks slowly for 20 yards, stops, looks at the arrow, flicks his tail, starts into his trot again, then falls over in a heap. Death blow...........then that almost erie quiet. Today I am blessed.
Topic: Daily Hunt pics and Stories 2006 (Read 41566 times)
