As the light was fading, in the blink of an eye, three deer appeared before me.
I was eight feet up an oak tree in a field that was a horse pasture until very recently. I had been on my feet, nocked and ready for more than an hour. The slight breeze was in a favorable direction. A short, light rain shower got the deer moving at sunset.
I didn’t see the deer approach even though my senses were on edge. There they were at twenty yards, a large doe and two fawns. My heart slammed in my chest and I told myself to stay still and breathe deeply. I settled down quickly and looked over the situation for about thirty seconds. The large doe was quartering towards me so there was nothing I could do with her. I came to draw on one of the small ones that turned broadside, but I just couldn’t bring myself to take that shot and let down slowly. Soon the small ones moved towards the doe and she turned broadside at seventeen yards. I came to full draw, locked onto her with everything I had and pulled through the string. The deer hit the ground, necks arcing backwards and my vision froze like a picture. They blasted out of the field. I composed myself and listened hard. I knew where they ran.
My younger brother showed up about fifteen minutes later. He found the blood trail and stayed on it like a hound. He is an amazing outdoorsman. My cedar arrow with a Zwickey two-blade was found at the edge of the woods completely unharmed and covered in bright red blood. It was a double lung hit and she was spraying from both sides as she ran. Still, she managed to run around two hundred yards and jump a creek. She was one tough girl and I was proud of her.
She is the first animal I have ever taken.
Jeff Howell
Friday, October 10, 2008