The Eastern horizon was just turning pink as I slipped down the familiar path that led to a special place of mine. You see, 369 Days earlier my first traditional buck was taken from the same fallen down tree. I reached the oak and shed my pack and quiver. The cool November wind cut through three layers of wool as I nestled down into the tree.
No sooner had I settled down, than the tell-tale sound of hooves crunching dry leaves reached my ears. Though still much too dark to shoot (let alone see) my heart pounded as the sound came nearer. The non-typical 9 pointer (drop tine on right beam) passed within three feet of me, just on the other side of the oak. I know these things, because I was looking
up at the bucks shillouted rack.
As my heart began to slow, the still remaining leaves allowed the first light through. I was watching a sleepy racoon stumble up into his tree when, from the bottom before me, leaves began rustling. I knew the sound, and the trails well enough, that my longbow was in my hand instantly. The buck came up from the bottom, heading directly towards me. I hunkered down behind what little cover remained, until the buck turned at a mere five yards. The deer was now quartering away, about to make it into a green-briar thicket.
In one fluid, practiced motion, the bow came up as I drew the carbon shaft. As my fingers reached the familiar spot in the corner of my mouth I whistled. The buck stopped, head behind brush and front leg forward, at 24 feet. My fingers relaxed and the Lumenock flashed against the gray hide. The buck sped off, and slipped, got up, slipped again, then crashed. No more than ten seconds had passed.
I waited what felt like fifteen minutes (likely less than five) before taking up the unneccesary blood trail. The broadhead had done its job admirably, my previously pure white feather were stained crimson, and a cherry red highway led right to the fallen 6-pointer.
For this deer, my first with a longbow, I used a Bear Montana Longbow, Beman ICS 400 (Full-Length w/ 5 GPI Tubes), and NAP RazorBack III's (Love tose things...). The arrow hit the buck halfway up the body, right behind the front shoulder and exited in the exact same spot. The 156 LB (Dressed) whitetail made it less than 50 yards before piling up.
I can honestly say, I dont think I could have done it without the advice and addictioin this site has provided me. Thanks again Gang.
Oh, and one more thing (Ive been dying to do this)...
Now, lemme try these pics...