Deer season this year has been slow, and this past weekend was rain, rain and more rain. No one expected to do any good but gamely we went after the deer. The weather was so bad that just being huddled into a stand was all we could expect to survive, much less kill a big buck.
At 7 AM a BIG BANG rolled across the property and everyone knew exactly where it came from.
The infamous deer killer, Paul Howell, had struck again.
As the morning passed, more and more of the hunters straggled in wet to the bone, but no Paul.
Finally, he came in to camp. Wet, wild haired, wild eyed, exhausted and totally devastated he staggered into the camp house and told his story.
The big 10 pt was crossing in front of him about 80 yards through the woods and it was a last minute shot. Paul said he never got a good rest, and pulled the trigger anyway. He found a few drops of blood but the angry deer snorted at him when he went to go find the trophy and galloped off into parts unknown. Paul spent hours searching but no luck. Looks like that deer escaped the wrath of Paul to live another day.