The little fork and a half-buck looked up at me for the third time. I stared back, unmoving and my bow stayed at ease. This yearling buck was too small, his rack little more than a forkie with a small extra nub on the right side that almost made for a fifth point, hence fork and a half. I noticed how pretty he was as I watched him nose about below my stand. His coat sleek and shiny in balmy autumn weather, which was at it’s finest this day as well. This was to be how my early archery season would end, watching and studying the deer that I did see. Nearly all were too young to present much of a challenge. Had I been the rank beginner way back then I probably would not have hesitated, but now, with several deer under my belt I was ready to concentrate on mature animals.
What was consistent was that the deer that did look at me were unable to make out just what I was. This told me a lot that my hunting style was maturing and quality was becoming more important than quantity. I was becoming a master of concealment. My archery season up to the firearms opener remained a dry run for me. No shots were taken only observation and attention to detail. Hopefully my observations made in the 2004-hunting season will be of help to your own future hunts.
So November 15th dawned and that meant trying to bag something with a shotgun. I left home very early to the huge farm fields of Marlette to see what might saunter past my shanty. The weather was quite cold and 0530 in the shanty was not warm and fuzzy like it usually was, the propane heater was not working. So in the miniature refrigerator I patiently sat with my hot coffee as the only source of warmth. Daylight finally arrived and I vigilantly watched for any shootable buck or doe. I saw a small herd of does and fawns angling towards the backside of the shanty at 0730 but they never came into range.
At midmorning I decided to go spot and stalk along the edge of a large brush filled drainage ditch. The ditch had a cut cornfield on the opposite side of where I was walking. About an hour later as I was creeping along I heard something dart quickly away. The mystery animal was not far from me when I spooked it. I saw something run across part of the cut corn stubble. It was a large dog fox; he stopped and sat down facing me. His brilliant coat glowed in the morning light. He was clearly confused and curious as to what I was. I had been stalking crouched over in order to break up my profile. He must have heard me but had not been alarmed, as he did not have my wind. The fox was too far away for me to shoot at with a shotgun so I made no attempt. I just watched him. He sat there staring at me until I stood straight up. Then he made his way off at a brisk trot and was soon out of sight. He would cast a quick look over his shoulder now and then as he retreated.
After checking the rest of the ditch a wave of fatigue crept over me. I took a concealed position up in some tall grass along the inside edge of the ditch and watched for game. I saw many other deer but they remained in the centers of the huge crop fields surrounding me and held up where no slugs could ever reach them. At noon I decided to grab a bite to eat and then head home for a nap.
For the late afternoon I decided I would hunt my own five acres. I have never had success at home during firearms season in the past but I today was too tired to go anywhere else so I settled my mind that this was what was going to be. I dressed into my one piece-hunting suit and as I was putting my orange vest on I saw movement out the kitchen windows. I was surprised to see deer, several of them! They were in early, too early; I did not know how I could get out there with out being seen. They were half in my woods and half into a large wildflower field I keep several yards out back of the kitchen.
I decided I would slowly clamber down the three steps from my deck onto the grass and then from there leopard crawl across the shorn lawn. The deer were hanging into the brush line 25 yards from the back of the house. I could not see how many of them there were but I figured at least three.
Just as I began to crawl my movement was noticed I heard a foot stomp and a snort. My shotgun was nesting in the crooks of my elbows and I slowly crawled facing straight towards the alerting deer. I figured that any second they were going to vanish, waving their white flags and filling the woods with their alarm snorts. I sensed I was holding my breath but continued to slowly crawl.
In fact the group didn’t run. They did stomp their feet and a few snorts were heard but none of them ran off. I continued slowly, awkwardly creeping along trying to close the distance. I was mildly amused by some of their antics; I could see some of the fawns peeking around some brush looking back and forth at the older deer as they stomped and then back at me. The mature deer held their ground, which encouraged the fawns to remain in place as well. Fortunately the wind was once again my friend they had no idea what I was. Now I knew I would be successful, the deer could not figure me out. Once again it was my body position that changed their perspective even though I was in full view a few yards away on my wide-open lawn.
Suddenly a large doe decided she had enough of the game and was going to solve the mystery in front of her. She pushed through the brush and began walking towards the open wild flower field. I could see something on her face, the weather had turned wet and I figured she had a leaf stuck there. She made quite a show, stomping and snorting with the others carefully watching her every move. She then made a move to try and get down wind of me. This was her mistake. As the doe finally cleared a large multi-flora rose bush she presented a fine broadside shot. I was but 15 yards away. The scene unfolded in front of me in slow motion as it always does when you are beading in on your intended target. The doe walked boldly now into the open with the others watching her. My shotgun and scope followed her every step, slowly waiting for her to clear the brush.
I positioned my body and shotgun as the doe traveled and remaining prone fired one slug through the does’ vitals as she walked. She took off in a sprint and quickly disappeared into the thick woods with an explosion of deer that were witness to the event. I knew it was a mortal wound, I was at bow distance. I recovered her 70 yards away but with some surprise. The deer was a respectable long nosed doe, obviously a mature animal. It was not a leaf I had seen on her face but a streak of white hair. Almost like a horse’s blaze. I felt her face wondering if the hair color was from an old injury or if there was a scar. Nothing odd was noticed other than the white hair color. The doe also had unusual bony formations on her head where a buck would normally grow antlers. I dragged the doe out of the woods to my pasture and went for the tractor to finish the hauling job.
Over all she seemed to be in excellent health and weighed approximately 150 pounds live weight. Her coat was thick and glossy and she had some milk left in her udders still. During the cleaning and butchering process I examined her further and saw how prominent the bony projections were on the skull. Her teeth were so worn down they were nearly flush with the gum line. This would be the oldest doe I ever took. I had never seen her before on my property. I carefully caped her out, she will grace a spot on my wall.
Each hunting season I come away with more valuable information by studying all the animals I see afield. They are my teachers now. I have been taught the gun and bow by others, now it is the hunted who teach me how to hunt.
