Who Hunts?

Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by johnny twoshoes on March 8, 2012 at 13:13

A season opening morning over and me now with blood stained hands, pants and knife, with a full tag, I knew the season wasn't over just yet. My uncle John had a tag left and I figured he may like some company in the stand for the evening hunt, I finished skinning and quartering my deer and I headed to the stand. The season had started off great for the family, four buck tags had been filled and there would be plenty of meat to go around. 

We sat there and talked of seasons passed and memories made each day afield. I have really gotten to know my uncle better by spending a few evenings each season in a hunter's cabin waiting for that Buck. I would take watch and let him get some sleep before the final hour when things would heat up. 

Doe made the evening interesting, but with such a long season we weren't worried about getting one on the ground just yet. With a half hour of daylight left, my uncle dosed off. I took my time and slowly scanned our view,back and fourth, looking for any movement. Down a valley and across a field, about a half mile away, the ivory tips of a good buck caught my eye. I woke my uncle and he caught a glimpse of the Buck running across the field.

I looked at my uncle and said, "if he keeps that up, he should be here before dark". It was a pipe dream that he would stay on the trail the whole way to our farm, but some dreams come true. With fifteen minutes of light left the tension started to build, we knew that the day was coming to an end the final visible deer movement would be upon us.

Now, my uncle likes to joke around and he always gets you looking around with an excited movement for his rifle and a whispered, "We Got A Wall Hanger". So when he excitedly whispered, "here he comes", I figured he was joking.

No Joke. The buck busted cover right in the middle of the field and he b lined right for us. The 243. spoke and the dust flew, a clean miss, another round loaded and out, again a miss. The Buck continued his route right for us, a third shot rang out and the buck stopped in the only clearing 60 yards from our stand. He stared, untouched and ready to bolt. 

Seeing a more majestic site is hard to do when a mature, Pennsylvanian whitetail Buck is standing down range of a good rifle. It was a face off that lasted but few seconds, the final round in my uncles rifle found it's home in the heart of the old boy. He dropped in his tracks.

The excitement exploded and congrats started right away. It was a perfect end to a great first day.

Stay well my friend, I hope you enjoy.

Permalink Reply by Jan Carter on March 11, 2012 at 16:09

Johnny,

One of the parts of your stories that endure me...your ability to descibe the animal as more than just prey.  I think it is great that you enjoy the beauty as well as the game. 

Permalink Reply by Robert Burris on March 11, 2012 at 17:28

Yes Johhny, tells such good stories, I wish he would tellus more.

Permalink Reply by johnny twoshoes on March 16, 2012 at 7:21

Thanks guys, I will be writing more soon. 

Not sure what I will right about, but it will be a story.

• ‹ Previous
• 1
• …
• 11
• 12
• 13
• Next ›
• Page