I was too young to hunt, but even I had heard the rumors and stories about the giant buck known as Big Red. Paul and I were at the age where the thought of a gigantic buck roaming the woods kept us awake at night hoping to be the one to bring the monstrous buck into our camp and be famous forever.
Trent was old enough to hunt and had traveled about a mile down the road from our camp to a stand where Big Red was known to travel. Trent didn’t say it to us, but the same dreams and hopes ran through his mind too.
We heard the shot that morning and thought that it could have been from Trents’ location but time dragged on and he did not come in. Finally, Dad loaded Paul and I up in his old Ford truck and we went to get him at noon.
When we finally worked our way through the woods to his stand, Trent refused to leave the stand, told us to leave and started crying. The story came out then.
The gigantic buck had worked it’s way up the trail in front of the little boy and had stopped less than 30 yards away in the open, right in front of him. Big Red, was immense and still red colored though it was winter, just like the stories and with a huge rack. Did buck fever get Trent, or was it just that there was no gun rest in our stands in those days?
Whichever, the bullet blew up dirt under the deer and took off. (He said) Dad tried to console him, but he would not get out of the stand. After awhile we tried to follow the deers’ trail through the woods and found a huge track where it crossed the road. We left Trent at about 11 or twelve years old in the woods crying and swearing to never come down out of the tree, and headed home. He has never forgotten the event and has been a fanatic about getting a big deer ever since.