I was at deer camp the last few days, hunting mobile on public ground. After an underwhelming morning hunt, I decided to pull my stand and head into a different area to hang and hunt the afternoon and following morning. About 3:30 pm an 8 point buck came cruising through, but never came close enough to get a real good look at him, let alone take a shot. He might have tempted me, but thankfully I didn't have to make that decsion. Nonetheless, it was good to see a buck on it's feet at that time of the day.
About 30 minutes later I caught movement over my left shoulder, then saw antler, and noticed it looked like buck I should probably stand up and get ready for. When he took a step behind a huge oak I quietly pivoted 180* placing my right shoulder against the tree to hopefully screen my movement to draw. The buck continued on his path which was leading him to eventually be broadside at 18.5 yards. As his head went behind another tree along his route I came to full draw and turned a little more and leaned around the tree. A few steps later, once he cleared some bushes and briars, I stopped him with the ole trusty "maaaap."
I paused for a moment, settled my top pin, and watched that slow-motion-moment of the lighted nock disappearing behind the shoulder. The buck jumped, his hooves dug into the ground as he spun 180* and dashed back from the direction he came. He paused at the base of a hill, zigzagged up the slope, then paused again on hillside shelf. I thought I saw him side-step and stagger, but never saw or heard him crash, although I felt like he went down. That was exactly where I laid hands upon him and gave a prayer of thanks and overwhelming gratitude for being in the right place at the right time.
About 30 minutes later I caught movement over my left shoulder, then saw antler, and noticed it looked like buck I should probably stand up and get ready for. When he took a step behind a huge oak I quietly pivoted 180* placing my right shoulder against the tree to hopefully screen my movement to draw. The buck continued on his path which was leading him to eventually be broadside at 18.5 yards. As his head went behind another tree along his route I came to full draw and turned a little more and leaned around the tree. A few steps later, once he cleared some bushes and briars, I stopped him with the ole trusty "maaaap."
I paused for a moment, settled my top pin, and watched that slow-motion-moment of the lighted nock disappearing behind the shoulder. The buck jumped, his hooves dug into the ground as he spun 180* and dashed back from the direction he came. He paused at the base of a hill, zigzagged up the slope, then paused again on hillside shelf. I thought I saw him side-step and stagger, but never saw or heard him crash, although I felt like he went down. That was exactly where I laid hands upon him and gave a prayer of thanks and overwhelming gratitude for being in the right place at the right time.
