Bloody Horns Begins
Paul had gone to the first Crossover Stand and settled in that morning. He had not killed a deer in the Hole Area for a whole day and needed a change. He selected this stand basically at random. You need to know that big deer are attracted to him which causes hell for the rest of us.
It wasn’t long till two does came out to feed but seemed nervous. They looked up and darted around the field as a 5-point came out of the logging road that fed into the field and started chasing the does. A second later a big 8-point eased into the field from the road and stated moving down the edge of the field. Paul shot! The deer made it to the edge of the woods, fell, tried to get up and Paul shot the buck again. The buck laid still and Paul sat back in the stand. It was still too early to get down and go get his son, so he decided to just sit on the stand and see if anything else would happen, It did not take long.
Seconds later, three more bucks came out the end of the same logging road. They were a spike, a 3-point and a 4-point. Paul could not believe his gunshots had not scared them away. The deer moved down and circled the dead deer lying in the edge of the woods. Suddenly a giant 8-point appeared. This bruiser has massive heavy antlers, one brow tine was extremely long and the other broken. An easily recognizable monster that headed toward the dead deer as the rest of the bucks moved away. The big buck stood, smelled and circled the dead buck. Then it charged into it’s side and flipped the deer up and over.
It jumped back and warily circled it and then hit it from the rear. Circling again he charged the antlers of the dead buck and started pushing and goring the deer all over the hillside. After almost an hour of watching, circling and attacking the dead eight point the big buck moved into the field with the 3-point and started feeding on the rye grass.
At thirty yards, Paul studied the massive buck through his binoculars. The giant bucks head and antlers were covered and dripping with blood. He stayed there for what seemed forever, then took off chasing the does when they showed up again. Paul quickly got down, ran across the field, grabbed his battered buck by the horns, dragged it across the field, finally got his 4-wheeler and Michael, loaded the deer and headed to camp.
Thank God, he at least shaved his scraggly beard afterward.
UPDATE- hhmmmmmmmm...... Maybe Paul has met that buck before.
Labels: True Hunting Stories