So I am about 13 years old and the deer season is winding down. It is a beautiful winter day and Dad gets with a friend and decides to take all the kids out to a local piece of land to try some deer drives. The weather is absolutely great and all the kids climb in the back of Dad’s truck and off we go. To say we got sidetracked is a real understatement.
We are loaded up, head back through town and head out the Old Taylor Road. We are on the edge of town, not even out of the City Limits of Water Valley, when this gigantic buck hops out from between two houses, lopes across the street, hops a six foot fence into a pasture and trots over the hill.
All hell breaks loose.
The truck slides to the side of the road, every kid bails out and makes a break for the fence (we are all loading our rifles) in hopes of getting a shot at the biggest deer any one of us had ever seen. Trent being the biggest and fastest over the fence is in front, with Paul and I fanning out right behind him. Trent motions to us to hold back as he peeps over the top of the hill.
The gigantic deer is 40 yards away minding it’s own business. Trent pulls his rifle up, carefully aims and pulls the trigger. CLICK! In his haste, he had forgotten to load his gun. Trent falls over backwards to the ground as if he had been shot, realizing he had just let this mega-monster get away. Paul and I look over the hill, just as the big buck decides that it is getting a little crowded and leaves for the next county. We can’t get off a shot, thanks to Trent’s weird reaction. We trudge off to talk with Dad and leave Trent lying there glassy-eyed. Idiot!!
We spent the rest of the day making drives through that scope of woods adjacent to the pasture but never saw the buck again.