While still-hunting in a swamp I noticed a young buck slowly making his way towards me along the creek. It was one I had seen several times before. Although he wasn't a trophy I decided I would try to harvest him. After all the main reason I was hunting was to fill the freezer. A large oak lay on it's side and would provide cover for an ambush if he continued along the creek edge. He was still out about 100 yards or so and moving slow so I carefully climbed into the deadfall. One trunk of the tree provided a slightly elevated stand to get me over the underbrush while the second trunk and the tree it fell against provided a great background to hide me. Along with the crosswind it was perfect.
About 15 minutes or so later the young spike horn buck was right where I hoped he would be. I just had to let him pass by enough to get a quartering away hit on him. Just when it looked like it was going to happen he suddenly snorted and turned and ran. I was puzzled for a moment. The wind had not betrayed me. I knew he hadn't seen me. Then I replayed the snort through my mind. It wasn't a snort, it was a grunt and he hadn't made it at all. Using just my eyes I searched for a second buck.
There he was. A huge 8 point with about a 22 inch spread. My heart started to hammer in my chest. He was just standing there by the roots of the tree smelling where I had pushed my way through the underbrush. I was sure he would spook. I guess though that he was more interested in following that other buck than looking for me. He started along the creek to where the other buck had turned. I readied myself for a shot. My fingers confirmed the arrow was properly nocked and found their places on the string. He moved quick and I was afraid I would have a difficult shot but then he just stopped and posed. I guess he was looking to see where the smaller buck had gone. All I know is that I saw the opportunity for a clean shot and I took it. My eyes stayed locked to his side as the arrow hit it's mark and buried all but it's feathers inside him. He bucked to confirm the hit and then ran off. I stood there trembling with adrenaline and trying to catch my breath as he crashed through the underbrush.I tried to keep my eyes on him but thick cover concealed the view.
I waited what seemed like an eternity (20 min) and then began the carefull art of blood trailing. I knew this had been a good hit and he wouldn't go far. About the time I found my first spots of blood I looked up to see him laying there. The arrow had done it's job. He had only covered about 75 yards before he collapsed. Kneelling beside him I gave a prayer of thanks and then field dressed him for the long drag out.
Not all hunts go this smooth but I will take the good ones when I can get them.
