To Catch a Deer …

(Part 1)

            At first light Terry dropped me off in the garbanzo bean field. I would come around west, in to the wind, and position myself at the corner of the CRP field. He would drive the road on around, and either get into, or move, any deer at the head of the draw, hopefully to me. We had gotten into deer at the road at the head of the draw every morning we had come in. As I go into position, four deer to my right, saw Terry, and moved out nervously to the east.

            Terry radioed that he saw a buck bed down on the hillside across from him, and that I should come around west and get in on him.  He would guide me in.  As I moved west to get into position, two does came frolicking into the small draw I was in. They were moving nervously about, probably due to the wind.

            Terry gave me final directions to get into position, then we cut radio contact. When ready, Terry then came down the hillside to push the buck to me. As I waited, the sun peeked over the top of the hill, and blinded any possible shots to the east. So I came up the hill, opening up possible shots to the east, but no longer being able to see below. After the sun came up more, I moved back down, so I could see both east and below.

            Terry came closer and closer to the bottom of the draw, and, presumably, the buck. Oddly, he had his pack, but not his bow. He was purposefully making commotion and noise, but the buck was still evidently holding tight in the brush. At the bottom of the draw, Terry stopped.  It appeared he came to a big patch of poison oak, and elected to go no further.  He backed out, drove to the head of the draw, and came down on my side. During this time, and before I moved back down to the old road I was waiting on, a landowner came around, looking.  I was out completely in the open, but I held still.  They were looking for hunters, and perhaps game.  We were not in `permission’ territory.  I didn’t move.  Amazingly, I was not picked out … evidently mistaken for a bush. 

            As I would find out later, on his first approach, Terry had evidently got close to the buck, but without a bow. This time he would try and go in for the shot. As he got close again, he couldn’t quite get a shot. The buck came out, probably in my range, but just below the crest. I never saw it.

            We then went back to the “Snowy River” draw. The wind was strong out of the east. Instead of deer going east toward Terry, he pushed four does and fawns - they stampeded by me, all commotion, dust, fur, no antlers.

            We linked up, and Terry suggested I explore east, he went back to the truck and would meet me at the Three-Point Finger.

            I could see down into the draw below the tree stand. As I started rolling rocks, I could see a doe, then another, then another, and then I could see a big buck. He was the “big two point.” I started to angle down, to see what would happen. In the end, thirty or more deer came out, probably 2 or 3 bucks, 4-point or better, several other bucks, and the “big two point”- the largest of all. The does went out east, and the bucks went back to `Snowy River’ draw.

            We linked up at Three-Point Finger. We had depleted all of our water, so we drove east for shade and water. By now it was 10:30 am. As we drove past a small draw, we noticed a small whitetail doe. We drove up the road and decided to see if we could come across the field and in on her. It worked out perfect. Terry threw a dirt clod into the brush: a small deer jumped out. Terry said, “Wait, it will come back.” We waited; it did. Range, 35 yards. I shot, missed, shot, missed. She hid in the brush. While Terry was throwing clods, a big doe came out; Terry couldn’t get a shot.  The smaller deer came out – presumably to follow the larger.  The wind had not betrayed us, and the sun was at our backs.  The use of small dirt clods were enough to get the deer curious, but not overly spooked.  Three more shots; Terry took a shot; my third shot appeared to hit. The deer walked up, acting hit, came around to the west; and we could see it bleeding out of what would be the exit hole, low, midway along its side. It laid down. Then it dropped its head, and rolled over. It was over, we thought.

            The deer looked dead, so we climbed down into the draw, collected the shot arrows, including the one that passed through the deer, but when we got up to the deer; it was gone. We looked for an hour or more, no deer, not even any blood. I had basically given up, baffled. With a good sense of where deer go, Terry headed around west.

            A minute or so later, Terry yelled, and I could see him waving.  He waved me over. He had found one small drop of blood on a rock on a game trail. I found one more drop of blood, but not enough to track. Terry went down to the road, on a hunch, and lo and behold, jumped the deer, close, but couldn’t get a shot. It ran up by me. I got a shot, but missed. The deer ran west and back down to the road. Terry ran after it and saw it drop off down to the left, at the head of the big brushy that goes down eventually into A canyon,

            A dirt road cut across the upper end of the draw from the lower, formidable part of the draw. Terry posted himself at the road, so if I kicked up the deer, he could keep it from going down into the canyon. Nothing. He now started pushing around to the east. I took the position at the road. He jumped the deer. It was running straight for me. I raised up. Generally the motion would cause a deer to quarter away. It didn’t; she kept coming straight at me, full speed.

… end of Part 1

Part 2 … Continued