Just as light began to fade, a big 9 point hauled across the clearing at full bore. I immediately recognized the buck as the double droptine’s buddy, and I half expected the big one to come hauling out of the cover shortly after. Suddenly, all was quiet and no deer were in sight. Hope was not lost, it was still primetime. As I glanced over my left shoulder just as I did 100 or so times throughout that evening, I caught movement through the tree branches as a deer was moving across the clearing.
As the buck came closer, I didn’t have to look too hard to realize he was the one I was after. He looked like a blob of pudding, his body jiggled as he trudged forward and his droptines stretched below the bottom of his jaw. He continued moving forward and he entered my shooting lane in a matter of seconds. He was 30 or so yards farther than the night before, but I figured a grunt would stop him. There was no reaction, he kept trudging forward. Then a whistle. No reaction. The shooting lane was getting smaller. I yelled, “Hey!”, and he finally stopped. I let the arrow go and he began to turn before the arrow got there. It entered right in front of the shoulder, a little high. The buck whirled and began heading straight away from me, out of sight in just seconds.
I called my dad right away. He knew I got him before he answered the phone. There was no other way I would call him before I left the woods. He left the house and headed over to help track. I called another buddy who was working late and he headed out to help track as well. After looking at the arrow and seeing all the blood in the clearing, we decided the buck was dead. It was exceptionally cool that evening and the dew began soaking the underbrush and grass quickly. After following blood until about 11 or so at night, I made the call to get out of there and bring the dog in the morning. Even though there was good blood at one time, the dew had completely soaked the grass and underbrush, practically wiping the blood trail clean.
The next morning I had to be up at 4 a.m. and there was no way I could start tracking until at least 9:30 a.m. I had to be at work since I was leaving for a bachelor party in Las Vegas that same evening. After a sleepless night and stressful morning, I still couldn’t even choke down any food. I got the dog and started grid searching my way back to where we stopped tracking the buck the previous night. By working at a farther distance than I believed the buck travelled, back toward where we last tracked blood, I felt that my chances at finding the buck were only getting better. I worked backwards through CRP fields, swampy areas, and hedgerows. Finally,around 11:30, 100-150 yards past where we last tracked, and around a quarter mile from where the shot was made, the dog started working an edge quickly and I could faintly smell the unmistakable scent of a dead animal. I looked ahead to see my black lab, Ike, standing over one of the biggest bucks I have ever seen in my life!