Big Ten

By Jack Duggins

www.mainelysmallmouth.com

I went out Friday afternoon at 4, only a 5minute walk behind the house. I was in the stand just long enough to get my gloves on and knock an arrow, when a doe shows up in the junipers under the power-lines. She made her way around behind me, into the woods, then to the base of my stick ladder. She sniffed up & down the ladder then proceeded to jump the fence into the pasture in front of and below me. Then she made her way across the pasture back into the woods where she had come from.

At about 5:55 or so, Big Ten shows up at the far corner, outside the pasture fence and just observes everything all the way back to the barn and paddock where my horse is feeding.

He works along the fence a bit, then turns to go around the thicket and onto the trail that will bring him close to under my stand. I check the pasture after a few minutes of watching him feed, to help calm me down, and I see the older much larger bodied buck out there feeding. This is only the second time I have seen the Gray Ghost, and he dwarfs the Big Ten in body size.

I notice that Big Ten is heading away so I tip the can call (bleat-n-heat) and he turns back towards my position again. At this point my heart gets into that slow, pounding rhythm as well as pressure filling my ears and I try to shake it by closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. Then I remember I’m 30 feet or so off the ground and realize closing my eyes is not a good idea!

At about 6:10 and after watching him for what seems like forever, I scan the area for the Ghost and notice he is off to my left, beyond the junipers at about 50 yards and feeding calmly. Then Big Ten noses up to the fence and hops over the five foot high obstruction like you of I would hop over a branch in the trail. Nose down and feeding on the clover, he is facing my stand and presents no shot. But I don’t have to wait long before he takes a few more steps and turns perfectly broadside. This is where hours of practice are supposed to pay off and the bow string draws like a low pressure bungee cord. I settle in, look through the peep and see the green twenty yard pin. Then I focus on the deer. I want to hit four inches down and four inches back from the centerline of the front leg which should give me a double lung kill. I hold on the spot and never felt the bow release! The sound is deafening . . . THWACK!

The arrow stops with half of its 30″ shaft sticking out at a 45 degree angle. The buck whirls around and bolts for the fence, almost taking it down on the way over, crosses the power-lines and vanishes into the woods. I listen intently for the crashing to stop (several minutes), make note in my head where the last sounds were, then climb down and head home for the wait. Remember it’s only a 5 minute walk and away from where the buck went.

One hour later my best friend, wife and daughter go in to drag the Big Ten out. At eleven PM, we all stumble home without him. We found lots of blood the first two hundred yards, then only drops. The next two hundred yards were torture, on hands and knees, spraying peroxide onto anything that could have been blood, feeling through the leaves following his unique tracks to a bed up on a side hill. We were all amazed this deer even went uphill as oftentimes they will run directly to water. This deer not only went uphill, but avoided water by circling and zigzagging around it.

In this bucks bed, there were only three spots of blood but one small spot seemed saturated deep into the dirt. I could see and feel where this bucks front knees pushed into the ground at one end of the bed. That was it, end of track! It was like this deer was sucked up into the sky. Saturday I called a few more friends to help comb the area, and most of us stayed out past noon. I even went back in until about five PM with no sign of blood, or stumbling tracks. Of course there were his and other deer’s tracks all through the area and we found lots of sign but this is where there deer live anyway.

I am not giving up on this deer as I believe he is dead from the wound inflicted by my arrow. Will the meat be any good? Probably not and the coyotes will have destroyed most of it. All I can do, as a hunter, is attempt to recover the rack & skull from this fine animal and give him a place of honor and remembrance on my wall. Between the coyotes and the crows, and hunting and trapping into the wind (smell), I am hoping to find this buck.
If I don’t, I still have a decent photograph and at least two hours of video of this magnificent animal.

Sometimes, even for a guide, LADY LUCK determines the final card.

Jack Duggins
Oct2006
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