This story begins 3 years ago on a November rut hunt. I was in a small stand of woods behind my place. I was in a walnut tree about 18 feet up. There was a big powerline cutdown about 40 yds to my right and a huge stand of the dreaded Asian Honeysuckle to my left. It was the end of the second week in November and the bucks were running pretty good. It was about 5:00 pm in the afternoon and I noticed movement from my left. Coming out of the honeysuckle was a nice 10 pt. He was walking directy left to right, broadside maybe 10 yds out. Directly in front of me he passed behind a big ash tree and when his head disappeared, I drew my arrow. He stepped out and I grunted to stop him. He stopped and I buried one behind his front shoulder. He turned left and headed east into the thicket and I heard himm crashing through the brush. I heard him go down and said a quick prayer of thanks. I called my brother on my cell phone and told him I'd just killed a nice buck. Hung up the phone, got down from my stand and headed back to the house to get a flashlight as by now it was 5:30 and headed towards dark.
Aty 6:30 pm I was at the start of the trail and 10 yds into the trail I found the back half of my 2114 shaft. This was a good thing as it meant the buck still had 15 inches of shaft and a Snuffer inside of him doing its work. The blood was foamy and pink and I knew the trail would be short. I came to a bed that was full of blood and I could also smell him. I said out loud "I got ya". But I heard him up ahead of me crashing through the brush. With as much blood as I was seeing on the trail, I knew this buck was done for. But at the same time I was puzzled as to why he was still alive and how could he be still up and crashing away through the brush? At that point I should have backed out but again, based on the amount of blood I was seeing, I knew this deer was dead on his feet. I followed the blood trail for about 1/2 mile, across a crick, and up a crickbank that was about 8 ft high. Blood was smeared up the blued clay sides of the bank and I clawed my way up the top. Ten more feet and the blood trail was dried up. Not another spec. And no deer to be found. By now it was 9:30 at night and I stuck the back end of the arrow into the ground at the point of last blood. I went back home and spent one lousy night trying to sleep. The next day I was at that arrow at first light and I spent the next 2 weeks trying to find that deer. Never found him. This was 2 years ago. Never saw him again. Till September of this year.
Without ever seeing this deer for 2 years, he decided to show up in my backyard. I could not beleive it but it was him. With a big nasty scar in the exact spot where I shot him 2 years earlier. Look at the spot where my 3 bladed Snuffer hit and tell me why that deer was standing alive in my backyard, and not on my wall/in my freezer??? He also had this huge hump at his shoulder, which I suspected was from the 15 inches of 2114 that was probably still lodged in him. At this point, all I wanted was another shot at this buck. On November 6th, I got my chance.
I was in the same small patch of wooods, this time in the very ash tree that he stepped behind 2 years ago when I drew my arrow. It was 9:00 am in the morning and there were does all over the place. I had my stand facing west so as to not be blinded by the morning sun and also to face the wind. I heard a deep grunt to my left at the edge of the powerline. I looked over and there he was, paused at a scrape, rubbing his antlers in a honeysuckle bush and facing me. He was about 25 yds away. He headed towards me, got to about 12 yds away and turned to his left. That left that big gash of a scar right there in front of me as a spot to aim at. Pick a spot? Hell, there it was right in front of me. AND he was facing the other way, looking towards his left. Good Grief how much easier was this going to get?? I drew my arrow and settled into my shot routine. I looked at the scar and let her fly. Notice I said I looked at the scar? Didn't say I was focused on it or aiming at it. I just looked at it. With predicatable results. My shot went high. Way high. Like through the backstraps high. DAMMITT!!!!! He ran off to the south, under the powerline and onto a logging road. With my arrow sticking right thru him. I remember thinking that this big buck was going to be running all thru the neighborhood with my arrow sticking thru him ..... Man I was pissed at myself. But then I heard a lot of crashing and thrashing and I actually thought I heard him go down. So I sat there for about a half an hour, climbed down and went to the house. I called my brother, told him what had happened and he and my nephew were soon on the road to my place. They got there about 11:00 am and so we went and took up the trail.
Blood was sparse. Dark red, just what you would expect from hitting one thru the backstraps. After about a mile, there was no more blood and I was convinced that the buck would recover. One week later, I saw my neighbor in a local gunshop and he told me he had seen "Humpback" as we called him, on his game camera the night before. So I was pretty convinced that the big boy had healed up and was still chasing does. But I was bothered by the fact that I hadn't caught him on my camera at all, despite seeing him almost nightly all thru the fall.
I still bowhunted right up till gun season, then after gun season I pretty well shut er down. I still made the occasional trek out in the woods just to see what was going on but my interest in hunting wasn't truly there. I was still disgusted at myself for blowing an "easy" shot, if there is such a thing shooting a stick.
So, yesterday afternoon, New Years Eve, I decided to take a walk. I headed towards my stand and when I got out into the middle of the powerline, I found this:
It was him. He was laying in a spot that I traverse every time I go into the woods and he was laying less than 25 yds from where had I shot him, not only once, but twice. He had not been there 13 days earlier, when I had walked in the same spot, which meant he had lived almost 6 weeks after I shot him. You can see the big chunk I took out of his spine from when I shot him back in November. While the entrails and all the meat are gone, the carcass was still fairly fresh as there was still blood on the bones. No sign of my old arrow and who knows where it ended.
So while it took 3 years to find him, I guess I can at least sleep better now having closure on the whole thing. Not sure if I woulda done anything different, except to concentrate and focus on the shot. Of course we all know to do that, right?
Topic: A Huntin Story (Read 439 times)
