SilentHntr.
Copyright. May 3, 2002
"Encounter At Dawn"
It was dark and chilly when I started out, and the sun was not up when I arrived to the entrance of the woods. There had been a hard snowfall the night before, and the path to my tree stand was well outlined by a glimmering sheet of white. I stood there gazing into the woods checking to ensure that an early mover would not detect the journey to my stand.
The walk in had been quicker than usual thanks to the reflective light from the snow. When I reached the tree my stand was in, I tied my bow to a cord that snaked down through a maze of branches. I then started my assent into the dark shadows intermittently marked by the twinkling of stars. I finally reached the security of my platform and settled myself in. I lifted the rope connected to my bow and slowly raised it through the branches. Once in my hand, I notched an arrow on the bowstring and placed it on a cut branch to the left of my seat. Now the waiting begins.
Soon, the monotony of waiting was broken when streaks of light pierced through the dark shadows of the woods bringing with it the sounds of a symphony of birds. The forest floor came alive with the movement of animals, which had stalked their prey during the night and by those who found safety in the light. These things, as well as the thrill of the hunt, had brought me here many times before.
I was here to hunt, and possibly kill, an animal I had pursued for some time. I had named him the Grey Ghost because he was the oldest, shrewdest, coolest, and smartest whitetail buck that ever made a deer hunter wonder why he had not stuck to the sport of golf. One could say that this old buck led a charmed life. His life was charmed because he was a little cooler and smarter than I, who was trying to reduce him to a trophy on the wall.
For years Grey Ghost had slept, fed, and ruled over other bucks in this patch of hardwoods surrounded by hills. The nearest populated area, which is Fort Sill, is nine miles west of here. From my stand one can see the town where I live, Lawton, Oklahoma, located about twelve miles south.
I had hunted this buck every season for five years and got in a few shots, but I never hit him. It seemed as if he sensed the approach of my arrow and crouched down out of its path letting it plow harmlessly into the ground. Today, Grey Ghost would not be so lucky. Because like him, time and experience has made me a smarter, cooler, and shrewder hunter.
This experience guided me in the decision to position my stand off of his main trail, at nosebleed height, nestled in the foliage of a sturdy oak tree, but close enough to keep him within killing range of my bow and arrow. Hopefully, all this preparation would allow me to finally harvest this magnificent animal.
I was checking the woods through my binoculars, when I caught some movement out of the corner of my right eye. I turned to see the shine of pearly white antlers flashing in the distance. It was the Ghost standing between two trees glaring down his trail looking to see if anything was out of place. Did he sense my presence, or was he merely surveying his kingdom?
Standing in the beams of light from the morning sun, I could see every scar on his grayish body that was probably earned in battle against a rival trespassing on his domain. He looked as big as a horse, and his antlers were so enormous that they showed plainly in spite of the fact that he was more than 200 yards away. I grabbed my bow, but he had disappeared as I was attaching my release to the string. I spent nearly an hour scanning the woods for him, but I feared he had outsmarted me again.
The sky became cloudy, and it started to snow. For several minutes I sat on the edge of my seat, searching with my binoculars and cursed the weather, the deer and my luck.
I stood up, placed my seat against the tree and prepared to descend from my stand. Then, almost twenty-five yards away, down to the right of my stand, I saw something move; That something became a great buck coming out from behind a cedar in short deliberate steps. I turned to my right and drew my bow so slowly that my chest muscles burned with pain. I placed my sight pin right behind his shoulder and released my arrow. The arrow seemed to move in slow motion as it took the buck quartering away, penetrating both lungs, and smashing his front shoulder.
I let him lie there for an hour before I climbed down from my stand. When I finally did climb down, I was shaking so badly I thought my teeth would break. I was not cold, but excited that I had finally taken this magnificent animal. He had been a formidable opponent and would live on in my memories forever. I felt saddened that this game of chess had ended, but I knew there would be many more encounters at dawn with other great patriarchs.
Just one of my hunting stories...
) Oh yeah.... and the deer meat..... and getting away from the ol-lady.......and the rush you get when that ol buck comes in.... most cases that ol doe but still that same rush......... i guess i love it all now that i really think about so how about you guys!
