A Forum Hunting Story (all put together)

buckee · March 23, 2007

A Forum Hunting Story

Back home, hunting was just a hobby. A chance to enjoy the outdoors and an opportunity to put work (or any stress related issues) on the back burner.

But when I got that call last year, I knew this trip would be different.

It has been years since I've had the chance to hunt with my father. He was the one that taught me everything I know about hunting, fishing and life in general. Since many years have passed, this is an opportunity that I will not pass up.

It was much colder than back home, but the temperature was of little concern. We were about to hunt where very few have hunted before and for a trophy that would have Chuck Adams turning green with envy! I could see my Father's excitement as we hurried inside.

We sat down at the table and browsed through game camera pictures, over a good hardy breakfast, that I had taken in that special place, one month earlier. When Dad saw ,"the Brute", his leg started shaking the table in excitement, and his eyes sparkled as they did in his youth.

It has been a long time since I've seen one that nice around here! Ever since they timbered the forest the animals just haven't been the same.

Hoping to get that buck for my dad, we wanted to do some intense scouting, so we left shortly after breakfast to do just that. It didn't take long to find a scrape, and a rub-line so we hung our tree stands, quietly and couldn't wait to get in them in hope the big one, that was in the pictures would visit.

It was a cold brisk morning with just a faint hue of fog in the air. We had made it to our stand just before daybreak....total silence. The sound of the forest sleeping! As daylight began its slow, arduous task of breaking, residents of the woods began to make their presence known. First the guttural call of a far-off crow, then a good morning chatter from a nearby squirrel reached our ears. And what was that - crunching footsteps approaching from behind?

I slowly tuned my head in anticipation. My heart started to pound. There he was. Big ole Mr. raccoon making his way back to his daytime bed. I thought to myself "well that was a good adrenalin rush", and chuckled under my breath as I watched him make his way under my stand and off toward a big old standing dead tree.

The adrenaline rush from Mr. coon was good to feel and, I finally got myself under control.

This cold winter day was starting to set into my toes and finger tips.

That's when a mature doe appeared in front of me 45 yards away. She was alert and kept looking back as if she was being followed, then suddenly a little four point stepped into view. Figuring this 4pt. was also being followed I intently anticipated for the arrival of Mr. Big, of which I wasn't disappointed, because moments later, the big brute appeared from out of nowhere. My hopes were high, as I thought I might get a shot. Before he could get close enough he turned down another trail that was leading toward dear old Dad.

Seeing the brute head that way I thought this was it, soon I'd be seeing Dad's big grin and hearing how the hunt played out. My excitement made me shake as if I would be the one taking the shot.

Oh No!!, I thought. I sure hope the wind is right for dad. I hope he didn't fall asleep in his stand, considering it was a sleepless night for both of us, after seeing all the pictures of the brute.

Then all of a sudden I hear a loud deer snort coming from dads direction followed by the sound of deer scattering through the woods.

It appeared to Dad also, that indeed the wind was not right. Mr. Big seemed comfortable with the surroundings, but one of the does seemed especially nervous and sent the alarm through the herd. The next few minutes proved to be the most critical moments of the entire hunt. Mr. Big had made his presence, however, the alarmed doe had made things uneasy. Every deer in the heard suddenly became more aware of their surroundings.

It was still early, and Dad and I had agreed at breakfast, to sit tight this first morning until 10:00am. I knew that would be a stretch for Dad's old bones, but he was the one who suggested it.

We sat for the next two hours in total frustration, with only the sounds of the birds breaking the morning silence. I knew in my heart that chances of seeing the Brute again this morning was almost non-existent, Just seeing him for the first time in the flesh, was enough to keep us glued in our stands, regardless of the odds.

As time was drawing nearer to the time to call it a quits for the morning with hopes becoming a bit grim, I noticed some sounds and then movement caught my eyes. I looked closer and saw what appeared to be a single doe. I could hear more movement back behind the doe.

A few minutes passed and the single doe kept looking at the noise coming from behind. She was very interested in the mysterious noise. A couple more minutes passed when out popped two twin yearlings following close behind mom.

The doe and yearlings fed beneath me as the clock struck 10:00 AM. I just knew Dad would be climbing down soon. As I looked around, I thought I caught a glimpse of antlers in a thicket. I did a triple take into the brush where I thought I saw antlers and with a quick bino check it turned out to only be a branch. By this time it was 10:06 AM and still no sign of Dad. I was curious as to why he hasn't climbed down yet to come get me.

Even though I treasured my hunting time with my Dad, I worried when he was late because of his age. I figured more than likely he had some does working in front of him. My nervousness changed to anticipation with that thought, as I was suddenly awaiting the sound of a gunshot.

10:15 and still no sign of Dad. I figured I'd best climb down, and still-hunt my way toward him. I no sooner started my climb down, when that crisp, clear crack of Dad's gun going off broke the silence.

I froze , while hanging on half way down the tree, watching for something to come running through the bush in my direction. My mind was racing. Did he shoot at the Brute?

I felt as if my heart had stopped beating and at the same time I felt it was going to come out of my chest. I knew that dad used to be a crack shot, but had time done more than just weaken his bones. I reached the ground beneath the stand and decided to sit and wait a few minutes. After several agonizing minutes I came to my feet to make my way to dad. As my first footstep came to rest in the dry leaves, there was another crisp, clear crack from Dad's gun.

I felt a sickening feeling come over me. A second shot so far apart from the first can only mean one of two things, at the best of times. Either it was a finishing off shot, on a downed deer, or a possible rushed shot, on a fleeing wounded deer. I wondered if Dad was still in his stand now, or on the ground. The shot did seem to come a bit more to the right than the first one.

Trying to overcome the sick feeling in my stomach I decided to make my way toward my dad's stand. Slowly I eased along trying not to disturb my surroundings.

As I crept through the dry leaves I noticed movement in the distance. Is it? No, it couldn't be, but is it. It's a large black bear sneaking through the under brush. There hasn't been a bear reported in this state in over twenty years. Where did he come from?

Did Dad shoot to scare the bear away, or were his sights set on a deer?

I couldn't take it any longer, I quickened my pace towards Dad's stand. I see him, and he's on the ground...but not with the enthusiasm I thought there'd be.

Then I could see a slight smile on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes. As I got close to him he whispered, "big, very big". My heart was about to burst out of my chest and all I could whisper was "where did it go?"

"Well" he said "He came in behind this big fat doe. He was standing about 50 yards from me, behind that brush over there". He pointed to some brush that bordered a small swampy area. Whispering rather fast now, he said, "I had my sights on him for what seemed like 10 minutes, but he wouldn't take another step. The doe was at about 15 yards over there, (pointing) and looking straight at me the whole time. I wasn't sure what to do. I was hoping she would just relax and go about her business."

At that point, I was having a flashback to a time when I had this same feeling in my belly. It was when I shot my first buck many years ago and Dad was there too. But this time, Dad was the one that shot, and I had that feeling that never gets old. I hung on every word he spoke.

"I couldn't shoot the buck because of the position he was in, with any assurance of a clean kill. I also couldn't move my position, as the doe had me pegged. Could I shoot through the brush and make a clean kill, or would I only wound that magnificent animal?" Dad said.

"I settled the cross-hairs and could see a shooting hole. He had to take at least one step forward, before he would be mine. My adrenaline was getting the better of me, so I took a deep relaxing breath in hopes that he would take that final step, to insure the best possible shot. The waiting seemed to take forever." Dad was breathing heavy as he spoke.

"So I waited and waited and still he wouldn't take that last step. That's when the doe winded me, and I thought it was all over. He took off, but walking, not running, to the north", he said.

"I slowly squeezed the trigger and...nothing", he said.

I said, "what do you mean NOTHING!"

"Son, I couldn't find my stand this morning and in the rush to get ready, I musta forgotten to load my dang gun". Dad was blushing now. "So I slowly put a shell in the chamber."

"But by the time I got my rifle loaded he was gone over the hill, and that's when I saw the bear. The bear was hot on his trail, and the doe hadn't noticed me at all." he said.

"I couldn't let the bear take him down so I shot into the ground about 10 yards in front of him. That not only turned the bear, but amazingly brought the deer back around the hill, into my shooting range." Dad said, wide-eyed.

"Thinking I just blew my only chance, I waited to see where the bear had gone and forgot to look for the the brute to circle back. Minutes later, I heard what sounded like a grown man walking up behind me. The monster was on a dead walk straight toward me, giving barely enough time to re-chamber another round, get him under my open sights and catch my breath for one final shot. I slowly squeezed the trigger and again nothing. I forgot to take the safety off," Dad said, shaking his head.

"Now, once I get the safety off the Brute looked me straight in the eyes, and to my amazement he put his head down. Still locked on me with his eyes, he trotted right at my stand."

"He was closing the distance between us fast, So I shouldered my rifle to try to get him in my scope. When I finally took aim on him, the scope fogged up from me breathing so hard. So I wiped it clean, settled the cross-hairs, held my breath and pulled the trigger."

"I think I may have hit him a little low, son." He said with a serious look, "so we need to start tracking him. I'm not sure which direction that bear headed, but if he gets on that blood trail before us it could mean trouble."

So, off I went, back to my stand and got my gear.

It wasn't long before Dad and I were off on the trail.

We started on the trail of that buck with the agonizing feeling you get sometimes, when trailing a deer. The doubts were entering our minds, as they always do when you don't see an animal fall. The blood looked good though, and our eyes continuously scanned the area ahead.

The blood started to get a little light in spots and that sinking feeling was getting worse. Then just when I thought it couldn't get any worse......what was that?

Yes, it was a rain drop!!!!

One drop, then two, then five, and then it seemed like someone just unzipped the bottom of the clouds, because it came down in buckets.

We just shook our heads and agreed to go home, and get some fresh cloths, some lunch, and hope the rain would stop soon. It was now grid pattern search time, and the old, educated second guessing of where the buck might have headed, but for now, we had to wait on the weather.

We marked the last couple of blood signs, so we could remember the direction he was headed, and headed for the truck.

We headed for home and a good hot meal. All the time I was reassuring Dad that we'd find his buck.

After dinner we contacted a few friend to help us look in the morning. I knew another sleepless night was in our future.

Upon meeting up with dad for breakfast the bags under his eyes told the story! He didn't hardly touch his breakfast. It was the first time I can remember silence at the breakfast table. Finally I broke the silence and ask what was on his mind!

He said he just kept reliving the shot all night and now, he just isn't sure about the shot. He was thinking it may have been even lower than he first thought. Doubts were raging in his mind, so I reassured him we would check under every leaf and in every hole, and if he was down, we would find him.

If we don't find him, we would do another morning hunt, and he may just show up again. The rut is on and anything is possible.

We headed out to start the search.

Dad looked at me and had a grin on his face... "I had a dream we would find the buck. I don't know if it will be today, but we will find him."

We loaded into his ole truck and headed to the property to meet up with the guys helping us search! It was a cold morning, but there was no more rain in the forecast. As we entered the woods I wondered if we would find that big deer. Even though our hopes were high, we all knew there was no guarantee we would find anything at all.

It was almost like we were embarking on a journey. You could feel the tension in the air as you took the cold wind into your lungs. Dad led the way through the woods to the spot we had last marked blood. As we gathered around to devise a plan suddenly out of no where came the neighbor guy. He asked how the hunting was going and said he heard the shot the day before. We told him about the giant buck dad had shot at and said it was heading toward his swamp.

We asked for permission to look on his land, if need be, and he said that it was not a problem. He even offered to help look which was a relief. Hey, the more people we have the better.

A plan was soon born to spread out and walk in the general direction dad thought the deer headed. Just as we figured any blood trail was washed out with last night's down-pour.

You could tell by the look on dad's face that he didn't think there was a chance. As I glanced ahead, there through the hardwoods, was just what I had been afraid of. The river had risen with all the rain we had!!

Now what are we going to do? The nearest bridge was over a mile through the woods!!

"Maybe, just maybe, we can cross at the ole foot bridge over on the west end of the swamp",the neighbour said.

So with that we turned our journey to the west, the whole time trying to not get discouraged. I knew dad was tired and worried that he had lost the biggest deer of his life. Dad also isn't young anymore. How would he handle the foot bridge when we got there? Would there be a foot bridge? Had the rising waters swept it away? Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind as we hoofed our way through the hardwoods.

The neighbor said it was only a hundred yards or so, and as we closed the distance there was the distinct sound of water rushing through a drift. Could it be?

Water was coming fast along the creek and we could barely make out the top part of a log that had wedged against two cedars on either side of the banks. Now came the decision of whether we went ahead one at a time, and risk one of us (more likely dad) falling into the fast moving creek, or heading back to the truck, and swinging around and coming in from the neighbors side of the creek.

Pop's eyes told me that we'd find this buck, and soon, no matter what kind of bridge we walk across.

I however, made the decision not to let Dad try crossing. There was no sign of the foot bridge, and that log looked too risky for Dad. So we all spent the rest of the morning checking up and down our side of the river for a few hundred yards, both ways for the buck, to no avail. It was noon now, and we all had worked up quite an appetite, so we decided to head out for lunch and spend the remainder of the afternoon on the other side of the swollen river, by taking the longer, safer route around by road.

We sat there silent chewing our sandwiches staring out the window. The look on Dads face spoke volumes as the run off from the rain dripped off the roof.

Dad was always a positive force in my life when I hunted, shot and searched, now it was my turn to be there for him in a way that envelopes what he taught me and what we are all about. No matter how hard it is, we will not give up. The brute is still out there and the mission must go on.

"Well, lunch is over, We better get back out looking" I said.

"Hey neighbor," that Lady in town still got that Bloodhound?" Dad asked.

"well, I believe we can find that buck without the use of a dog," I said, "and we will find that buck this afternoon."

We made our way back to the neighbors side of the swollen river and started to search. About a hundred or so yards into the search I heard dad yell, "there, there."

Straight ahead you could see where something dragged itself out of the creek. When we got up there, the tracks were dug deeply into the mud and Dad could tell the buck was weaving as he walked.

From Dad's direction I heard the report of three shots.

Was it a warning for us to watch out for the bear? If the bear was coming in my direction, with the wind at my back, I knew he would have my scent.

I started walking towards the sound and I came across tracks. There were three sets of them. The first set was the wide track of a mature buck with the toes pointing outward. The second was a man's boot, and the 3rd was obviously a large bear.

As luck would have it, the rain must have washed the deer's scent away. The bear was traveling in the opposite direction of the deer. Two members of our group followed the bear tracks to make sure he didn't double back. Sure enough the bear had crossed the stream and left the area, so the guys that were following the bear joined up with us again and we all continued our search.

That was when Dad saw some movement about two hundred yards away. He pulled out his binoculars and glassed where the movement had been suddenly he says "it's him, it's him, its the brute, and he has a limp."

So the others hung back and wished Dad good luck as Dad and I made our way toward a ridge about 70 yds NE of our current location. If all went well, that buck should come to within 80 yds of where dad and I were waiting. The wind was in our face and our buddies, in the distance, were hunkered down anticipating the end to this exhaustive journey.

Dad looked me in the eye very seriously, and said "Son, I'm pretty played out right now, from all this bushwhacking. I'm not sure if I can make the shot right now, if that big boy gives me with one. "

He looked tired, real tired, and I was worried for him all of a sudden.

During all this excitement and disappointment in trying to find the buck, I had not been paying much attention to all this trucking around Dad was doing with us. I felt rather ashamed all of a sudden, for thinking too much about that buck, and not enough about how dad was making out through all of this hiking.

Then Dad said something I couldn't believe. "Son, if we get a shot I want you to take it". "

"But Dad, you were the one who wounded him. You drew first blood, and its your deer", I said.

Deep down. I knew that I wanted the shot too. I shook my head in disgust, at how selfish I was acting, trying to get the thoughts out of my mind. Dad wounded him and it wouldn't be right for me to pull the trigger on him. "Son I know you don't think its right, but I may not be around much longer and I've killed my share of trophies. It would mean more to me to see you take an animal that magnificent than for me to take it myself."

That's when it really hit me. Dad was getting older and as much as I didn't want to hear it, I knew this could be his last hunt. I also knew that he was sincere in saying he wanted me to shoot the buck. So, I told Dad just to lay back and rest a while. I watched for the buck to come through the timber.

Where was it? Did it lay down somewhere or sneak off in the other direction?

I just caught a glimpse of white heading the other direction.

"OH NO!!. It's going towards Buckee's land!! We need to get it before it gets there! Buckee never misses! Hurry up !", I thought.

I looked at Dad and he had his eyes closed. He was just plum worn out. The last thing I wanted to do was leave him here and go chase after the deer. The deer would have to wait. At least it was still on it's feet.

I whispered to Dad to go ahead and have a nap. I signaled to the other guys to come over.

When they got there, I suggested we let the deer settle down a bit, and try again in the morning after Dad has had some good rest. If Dad couldn't get out tomorrow, then I would see if I could find the Brute for him myself.

My thoughts were, by the way that deer was moving, that he wouldn't go far at all, and if we just backed off until morning, he would most likely lay down in the first safe spot he could find, probably lose strength over night, and still be there in the morning for Dad.

We sat around whispering for the next half hour while good Ole' Dad took a nap. He even started sawing logs at one point.

so we all decided to pack up and return to camp for a nice hot meal and a warm fire. while we huddled around the fire place telling old story's Dad spoke of a monster buck from days gone by, that he had chased.

I wasn't even born yet, but the way Dad told this old hunting story it was as if I was with him step for step. When dad finished the story he ended it with "That Big Old Boy Got Away from me without ever offering a shot, he looked a great deal like this one I've wounded", and with that he just stared into the fire.

That was it, I was going to find that Brute for my Dad, I had to look for the next week.

The morning came, and it was a nice crisp clear day. We all slept in a bit because we were all really tired.

Around 10 a.m. we all got together. Dad looked rested and he was raring to go, or so he said, when all of the sudden, he realized that he had forgotten his gun in camp.

We finally made it back to where we had seen the buck last.

His eyes lit up, and he said "Hey, lets not spook that deer today, if he's still alive. The wind is right, so let me go and still-hunt him by myself, because I bet I can find that Brute, laying down somewhere in there, too weak to get up, where I'll quietly finish him off, now that I have my gun...LOL"

Man, Dad looked pretty dang sure of himself, but I asked him "Are you sure Dad? Do you feel up to it?"

Dad smiled and said "You bet I do, let's get er done," and away he went.

He traveled to last spot we saw tracks, then got the wind into his face while we all watched him hunt the brute, through the trees.

He knew the breeze would keep his scent covered, yet it was calm enough for him to hear the slight crunching of fallen leaves and snapping twigs.

The sounds got louder and closer with each breath Dad took, until he had concentrate on controlling his breathing so as not to give himself away.

As the deer neared, he could see it was a Doe, with a slight limp. You could see a wound on the thick shoulder. A fresh wound too. Suddenly the deer knew something was up, and it paused to stare Dad right in the eyes. It was then that he Realized those eyes were familiar, it was no doe at all...The Brute had Shed its massive Antlers. They stood there for what must have seemed like eternity, staring eye to eye. As dad raised his gun, he could see the blood dried on the massive body, and in the eyes of the buck he could see that that the buck knew it was over for him. On this day my dad was the hunter who would be the victor. With one shot from his gun the massive buck went down, and dad had his monster buck. There beside the buck was the rack that the buck had so proudly worn.

All of a sudden, I woke up, and we had indeed slept in after yesterdays close encounter. Dad was still snoring, so I gave him a gentle nudge, to see how he was feeling. I laughed under my breath thinking about the dream I had of Dad still-hunting today, in the middle of the rut, forgetting his gun, and his poor trophy losing it's antlers, but what was even funnier was Dad sat up and said "Son, I am going to still hunt that buck today, and finish him off in his bed !"

so off we went again... back to the spot where we had seen the deer. We sat atop the hill looking down into the trees where buckee's fence-line was, hoping the buck hadn't crossed into his land yet!

I pointed out to Dad, where I had last seen the buck's rump heading toward the land next door, and off Dad went by himself. He slowed down to a snails pace as he got closer, and looked like an old ninja making his way slowly and carefully through the woods. I could barely see Dad as he reached the fence-line, and I saw him working his way slowly down along the fence-line to the left.

I knew right away that he was thinking exactly what had just entered my mind too, and that was, that the buck would have been too dang weak to jump the fence.

He had to have gone left.

Then out of no where I hear someone say something to dad.

It was buckee on the other side of the fence waving for dad to come over, near to where he was standing.

As dad made his way walking down the fence line, he suddenly stopped, crouched and aimed.

I thought this was the moment of truth. But just then I heard the buck snapping twigs and crunching leaves. Then it got louder, and louder, and louder. That's when I knew he was coming right to me I quickly raised my gun, and I thought, "should I shoot it, or hope it doesn't go to far and let dad take him." I mean, this was definitely a world record B & C. So I had only a few moments to think.

I made a quick decision to shoot it, because it was the only ethical thing to do now for this magnificent creature, but to my surprise a big doe ran out and past me, instead of the big boy.

Then the long awaited shot rang out, coming from Dad's direction and I knew he had finally found him. I could hear both Dad and the neighbour next door let out a "whoopee", and off I ran toward all the commotion.

Dad was still crouched down in the tall grass. The last few puffs of smoke still lingering at the end of his gun barrel. His heart was pounding so loud I could hear it from 5 feet away. He was panting and gasping for air, and I knew I had to calm him down fast.

I took a look of that monster and I almost fell over with excitement. That buck was Gigantic!

It was even bigger that we first thought, and Dad was beside himself with an adrenaline rush of a lifetime. His legs and arms wouldn't even work, because of his excitement. His lips were even quivering uncontrollably, like a child in a candy store, who was just told by his Mom, that he could have anything in the store that his heart desired.

I was no different than Dad was right then. Each breath was harder to control than the one before. Each twitch and shake was being controlled by some unknown force. My thoughts seemed to all run together, not knowing what to think next.

One thing I was sure of, and that was how close this experience had brought my Dad and I, at this very moment.

I knelt down beside Dad, and took him in my arms. "Way to go Dad" I said, as I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I new this moment in time, was Dad's Grand finally, when it came to hunting, and prayed to God that somehow, somewhere, someday, - I too could enjoy a moment like this with my own son.

I wanted to make sure that we got some great photo's of my dad and his bruiser buck, . I was still reeling from all the excitement, and knew I couldn't take a good photo of him, so I asked the neighbour fella named buckee if he wouldn't mind taking a few, which he was very pleased to do. We got some of just Dad and the buck, and then I got in there, with my arm around Dad, and we both were splitting our earlobes with the biggest smiles ever recorded on film.

Well, we loaded that big brute onto a trailer with the help of Buckee and a few others. We then headed back to camp with Dad's prize strapped down real tight.

Mom was there waiting for us. As we pulled up she came running out and hugged Dad in her arms. She held him so tight I thought his head would pop off.

News got out fast and everybody in the town heard about the gigantic buck and had to come by to check it out. Everyone was amazed at the size of the buck, and they all wanted a picture with it. Dad said it was OK, so one by one, they all took a picture with the deer.

Two or three hours later and everyone was done so we headed for the house buck and all.

Got the brute hung in the shed, pretty easy without Dad straining himself helping me, thanks to the good ole pulley system I had rigged up, just for that purpose.

Dad had been all smiles from ear to ear all day long, but you could tell the day had worn him out, as we climbed the steps to the front door of the house.

I held the door, as I waited for him to climb the last steps.

Dad went straight to bed, exhausted but yet content with his days work.

Mom and I stayed up and she listened anxiously as I recalled the details of the day to her.

Dad passed away silently in his sleep that night and when I went in to get him for breakfast, he was laying there peacefully, with a half grin on his face, and clutching his favourite Realtree hat to his chest.

I bent down, kissed him on the cheek, and said " I love you Dad, sweet dreams my lifelong friend"

I walked out of the bedroom with a tear rolling down both cheeks, pointed to the wall over my Dad's favourite chair, looked my loving Mom in the eye and said "the mount goes there", in the most authoritative voice I could muster.

THE END

This story was written by Realtree forum members over a period of time in the forums. Each making their own contribution to the story.

List of contributing Authors:

hunting_boy

Team Realtree

ryan1990

IllinoisHunter

MrWiggely

Canuck2

Nick

Wimpy

birddog

huntn4bucks

wtnhunt

Swamphunter

stevebeilgard

bruteshooter

monsterbucks1

bulldawg

VermontHunter

Jodyslilbro

Hoyt03

joebobhunter4

CampRAGS

NiteRunner

hunter101

BowJoe

craig mack

jbeck

christsavedme

buckee

KenW

Randy

Adjam5

mamagator54

ryan1990 · March 23, 2007