Thanks, everyone. I am a huge fan of these prairie speedsters and feel incredibly lucky to have killed one that has some history. This old fella is a neat guy and a real gift. But there is more to this story than just this antelope...so I guess I better begin the tale.
The hunt started on Monday from a blind known as "World's Worst." Like most of the Spearhead blinds, it is an inverted steel tank that is about 8'x8', partially buried into the ground, with one shooting window. Just after 7am the action started with a group of six does and fawns coming to water. The procession was pretty steady throughout the day, with numerous small bucks, does, and fawns coming to quench their thirst at the tiny pool in an effort to squelch the effect of the hot, dry day. The temperature in the blind was 110 degrees F at 2pm.
Although I was mezmerized by the parade, I did not launch an arrow at any of the 50+ antelope to make an appearance just yards away from my location.
Tuesday, I moved to a different blind and one that I was truly excited to occupy. The blind is known as "The Gas Chamber" and it is special for two reasons. First, it is the place in 2001, not long after 9/11 that I killed my first archery antelope. Next, it is also the place that my friend, Dal Lowrey killed his first Spearhead buck the prior year in 2000. Given Dal's untimely death only months ago, I really wanted to kill my antelope from this blind in recongnition of him and how much he loved this ranch and traditional bowhunting.
Antelope started coming to water at 7am. At 7:18 am, on a SW hillside, three pronghorn bucks are spotted. Two are clearly shooters, so I wait to see if they intend to come my way or to bed in the tall sage and prairie grass.
The bucks bed down on the hill and in the mean time, two smaller bucks, as well as does and fawns come to water. I let them drink peacefully and retreat into the sage.
9:10 am and four bucks appear at the water's edge. One was a shooter, but I had already seen the tall horned, dark faced buck that I wanted to take. He was still bedded on the hill, some 200 yards away, placidly watching the blind, peacefully pondering his unassuming prairie life. And so, I waited...
Time passed and the dark face buck on the hill finally stood. However, to my surprise, he looked over his shoulder, turned in the opposite direction from the blind, and loped over the hill and out of sight. The time was 9:47am.
At 10:30 am, a group of antelope appeared some 350 yards away. Does and fawns were casually walking through the grass when I realized that the dark faced buck flanking the group was the same buck I had been watching earlier. He was back!
Several of the does came to water, but the old buck bedded almost exactly where he had been earlier in the day and resumed his vigil of watching the blind and the water hole. The old antelope and I watched each other's location for over an hour until at 11:40am, for no apparant reason, he rose from his bed and came in to drink.
I already had the Marriah Thermal ready when he finally gave me a broadside shot just as he was stepping out of the water and preparing to leave. The arrow stuck him, piercing his vitals, and passing through the animal.
Curiously, he did not run. In fact, he very casually walked away as if nothing had happened, until at 25 yards, he simply buckled and slowly crumpled to the ground. In an instant, he was finished.
Of all the animals I have killed with a bow, I would describe this as the most peaceful of deaths. The romantic philosopher in me wants to suggest that the old antelope somehow knew it was his time and that he accepted his fate willingly. The spiritualist in me wants to think that maybe my friend Dal was up there somewhere helping out. And of course, the pragmatist wants to ruin the whole thing by rationalizing that's it's really all about the well-placed shot.
But since I generally think that pragmatism in hunting is overrated, I'll opt for one of the other two ideas.
Thanks, Dal.
Claudia
Topic: Back From Wyoming! (Read 1841 times)
