I like hunting on December 13th. A few years ago I shot a nice 10 point on the 13th of December.
This hunt was a beautiful one with lots of activity, just prior to a rainy cold front moving in. The kind of blue grey sky that frequents a Winslow Homer painting, and makes you feel small. This was due to the front still fifty miles North, where the cold weather was. It would be on top of us soon. There was time, though, I thought, to hunt, track a deer, and get it hanging prior to any rain.
Much of the morning was spent observing a young 8 point buck act the part of a much more mature animal, showing off, pretending to be the type of deer I had hoped to see. Entertaining nonetheless, and a pretty deer with great potential. Late in the morning a doe would give me a nice angle, so away went an arrow. I could see her departure encounter a fence that was just a bit too high, resulting in an acrobatic maneuver that would perplex even a young Nadia Comaneci. It did get her to the other side, however. After about a half an hour, I decided to go get the truck. Having lost sight of the deer, I chose to play it safe allowing her more time, while confident she wasn't too far. Upon my return I approached the fence separating the pasture I was hunting from a hay field, and glassed the direction of her inspired pommel vault. There, perfectly upright like our flag on the moon, was a red fletched Douglas Fir arrow next to my doe, as if she had thrown down her weapon, rather than mine, in resignation.
I got her field dressed, and hanging from a large mesquite that shades the cattle pens as the winds picked up, and plump, heavy rain drops burst on the hood of the truck. Nice weather to let her hang until this blew through. I could go home, make some fresh coffee, and quarter her later. Perhaps in a few years that young buck I was watching will come by on December the 13th. By then he'll look the part.
Chase
Topic: Lucky 13 Doe... (Read 1311 times)
