I finally got up in the stand and only then did I realize the winds were blowing at least 30 miles and hour. It had been windy most days this week, but I felt like the days past, it would eventually lie down.I kept thinking if a deer came by there wouldn’t be much I could do.
It was about 40 minutes before I could balance myself without holding the tree when the first deer stepped out. It was a lone doe I had seen before and things were looking good early.
She was acting nervous and I figured the wind was the cause. She then took off across the river bottom followed by a single antlered deer. He was having fun and things were getting interesting. I’m sure he thought he was a king, all 6 inches of one antler tailing that doe.
Not five minutes later a nice buck came out in pretty much the same place the doe and little buck had been standing. I tried to get him to come my way but we were separated by an old blown down fence line and although curious he wasn’t quick to drop his guard.
I gave my best grunts and bleats and could tell he was interested, but he kept looking where the doe went, and then to the haunts of the windy forest where I sat hoping he would give me a chance.
He started circling me to get my wind and I felt with the current wind conditions there was no way he was going to pick me off. He was now about 65 yds out and directly down wind. He just stood there in the wide open river bottom looking for the doe he had heard.
I decided to do something I’ve never done while hunting deer. That was to rattle at him. I picked up the horns, and put them together softly to see if it would be his undoing. It wasn’t! As soon as heard the horns he bounded off in the direction of the doe and small buck. So much for that??
It was still early and my hopes were high. A third buck appeared where the previous deer had been and I did my best doe imitation to see what he would do. As luck would have it, he walked pretty much to me. The 3x3 had been fooled and this night was turning out to be one I wouldn’t soon forget.
It was starting to get late when I looked behind me and noticed a small buck rubbing on a tree some 80 yds away. The bucks were out, I just needed a few more minutes. I put my binoculars on the small buck and was watching him when for no reason, he took off? Not two seconds later out of the thick tangle behind me came a great buck.
He was cruising the funnel and coming my way fast. He cut the distance between us in half within seconds. He stopped, at some 50 yds and stood up on his hind legs almost completely vertical and began to destroy a tree. He was taking it to a whole system of branches and was doing so with tremendous force. It was hard to tell the difference between antlers and the tree branches as he violently sparred with his opponent. He then dropped down, and started throwing dirt with his front hooves.
Never before have I seen buck throw dirt so far behind him. He was hot, and taking everything out on a tree there, not 50 yds away and headed in my direction.
He then snapped his head in my direction and on he came. That was the last time I saw his antlers!
I got ready, and focused on that little dark triangle as he headed my way. I had told myself if a buck came through I would try to take him in the first opening which seemed to be a close 20 yds versus the long 20 yds (visually) directly to my left.
On he came and for the first time, I could hear his foot steps in the cotton wood leaves approaching quickly. As he hit the first opening, his speed was too great and I never got on him as planned. He went behind a huge cotton wood tree and when he reappeared I was locked on knowing this would be the last opportunity for a shot. I grunted to stop him but he never heard it. I gave him one more and he locked up.
He was tense, standing there looking for the sound. I drew back, anchored for what seemed like two to three seconds and shot...... The buck took the arrow tight to the crease and mule kicked to the rear and took off.
It was then that I saw the rear view of him leaving with stuff sticking out from both sides of his antlers as he jumped the fence and ran out into a huge opening. 100 yds....... go down......200 yds........GO DOWN............. at 250 yds he stopped.
I now had to get up on my seat and was looking through some brush and could barely see him. He looked to be wobbling and I lost sight of him. He was only feet away from going into a river and was about to leave public land.
I sat down, and the surge hit me. I settled down, pulled out a small compass and got a good bearing on the last place I saw him. He was straight 90 east. The wait was painful. You think after shooting a few animals it would go away, but if anything (for me), it has only gotten worse.
The “what ifs” started going through my mind. I felt that I had heart shot the buck but couldn’t believe he went that far on such a hit. My mind again started playing cruel tricks on me. Was it low? If it was a heart shot he wouldn’t have went so far? Maybe he needed to get across that opening? Did he make it to the river?
About an hour later (dark now) I got down. I went to the site of impact and found blood right away. With good sign I started trailing and not 15 yds away, I found my arrow snapped in two minus 10 inches of the shaft with penetration that seemed to be complete.The Wensel Woodsman had done its job and now it was up to me.
I followed blood to the heap of what used to be a fence and then over. About mid way through the opening it was getting very hard to follow him so I pulled the compass out, walked the 90, and hit the river bank. I started to look in panic. The grass was tall, but I would be able to see him easily if he was down. He was not there! 300 plus yards and no deer.
I then walked to the river bank and saw where he went down. He had stopped on a small sandbar and left significant sign and both the blood, and his tracks pointed off into the dark side of the river that my flashlight could not penetrate. Across a river I had no knowledge of as far as depth and now he was on private property.I decided to pull back.
Again I felt the huge surge of pressure and doubt about what happened. From the highest highs to lowest of lows, I felt alone and had only past tracking jobs to reflect back on. Some bad, some good, I was alone with nobody to talk to and only the lonely cold truck to look forward to.
It took me some time, but I located the land owner and told him what had happened. He was happy for me and told me it wouldn’t be a problem at all. I tried to hide my anxiety and thanked him. He told me if it came to it, I could take his old dog if needed. He wished me good luck and I was sad to leave. Company was something I could have used.
It was near 8PM or so and I had a long night to look forward to. I was in my sleeping bag and felt I had a great nights sleep. I looked at my watch and it was only 10 PM. Again, the doubts crept in and the thoughts of tomorrow were cloudy at best. In a surreal moment, I said to myself if it turns out bad, it’s a shame I didn’t even get to really see the buck’s antlers even though he was right there.
Morning found me standing at the rivers edge in the dark listening for yips and yaps of the coyotes that haunt this river bottom. It was quiet. Two ducks came down and landed right in front of me and soon it was light enough to see.
I crossed the river and located where the deer came up and out. Again the sign was very heavy and I was feeling quite good. Another 20 yds and I had nothing. It was like everything vanished. I searched and searched that little landing and thought maybe he went right or left, but the beaver slide runway was right there and was still in line with the last blood I had found.
I looked and looked and found a spot of blood indicating he indeed went up the runway. Once up I still found nothing. I walked about 20 yds out where the ground was covered with cotton wood leaves versus the short grass where cattle had been grazing. After 20 or so minutes I found where he went. I went back, picked up my bow and pack and started heading back to the last spot when I saw his antlers sticking up out of the nearest brushy island. The journey had ended today in the same direction as it did the previous night, due east.
As far as the bow equipment went, I used a 62lb longbow with 33 inch 2216s tipped with Mr. Wensel’s Woodsmans.
Chad