My First Deer
Mar 12, 2009 21:14:10 GMT -5
Post by ozark on Mar 12, 2009 21:14:10 GMT -5
I have probably told about my first deer before but part of being senile is telling the same story over and over. Sound familiar?
My older brother had got me up in the wee hours of morning and after breakfast we had walked around six miles through the forest in the dark. It was just good daylight when we reached the Ashley deer camp on Capforks creek. There were tents and trucks with tarps over the stock racks and a few fires going around the area. It struck me as highly unusual to see a man with a mirror attached to a tree shaving with a straight razor. Nearby someone was cooking what smelled like a fantastic breakfast. The man who was shaving questioned us and seemed impressed that we had walked in from Big Flat. He ask if we would eat some breakfast and my brother told him that we had already eat before leaving home. I had walked off all that meal and hated my brothers dumb refusal to eat. The man looked at my brothers Iver Johnson rib barreled shotgun and seemed to approve of it as a deer gun. Then he looked at my Model 41 single shot .22 remington and with a doubting smile ask what I expected to do with that thing. My brother told him: "I would hate to be the buck that walked up on him. He can shoot squirell out of the tops of any tree that grows." We left going upstream with me still hungry and after going about half a mile I was told to follow a trail up a ridge line until I got to Barksshed road and we would meet at the road. My brother told me that he would move along the north side of the ridge and if ether of us spooked a deer the othe one might get a shot.
I had been coached to put the bullet just back of the shoulder if I got a shot. I had not reached my teen years and was not at ease alone in this area. My main concern was where my brother might be and I was listening mostly for any noise he might make.
I had killed hogs for butchering and had taken such things as rabbits and many squirrel and didn't expect to see a deer to shoot.
As I slipped along up the trail I heard noise ahead of me and stopped. Shortly a large racked buck turned a bend in the trail and stopped facing me. All I could see was its head and neck so I pulled the hammer back took aim at its forehead andshot deer dropped like a tub of guts and lay still.
My brother soon came up acting certain that I had somehow messed up."What did you shoot at?" "A big buck."
"Which way did it go?" "It didn't go anywhere, it is laying up there." I pointed at the deer and he ran to it, grabedts antlers and said: "It is a really big one."
He had it field dressed in short order keeping the liver and the heart as food items. I carried our guns and he drug it down hill to the branch, washed it out good and then drug it onto some big flat rocks that bordered the branch. While he rested three men came up the branch and one was the friendly man who shaved in the woods. They jjumped the branch and started examined the deer and asking questions. None had heard the shot and when my brother pointed out the bullet entry hole in the forehead they were dumbfounded. Mr shave in the woods told us that he wanted that deer hung up in camp and that I could stay with him. He wanted to show both me and the deer off and said that that night he would haul the deer to our home in in truck.
He and i drug the deer to his camp and he got it hung up. His truck was full of good eating stuff like potato chips, Treat meat, oranges, apples, and jugs of apple cider. I told him I didn't drink and he explained that the cider was just apple juice and had no alcohol in it. I feasted the whole day except when people come by to look at the deer. He always had to show them my rifle and where the bullet struck the deer. I was asked if I was nervious when I seen the deer. It all happened unexpected and to quick for me to get excited. It just stopped and I shot it. He hauled the deer home for us that evening and my brother insisted that he take a hind quarter and a shoulder back for camp meat. Back then good bucks were rare and this happened to be a good one that came down the wrong trail and met a kid who couldn't put a shot behind the shoulder. Ozark
My older brother had got me up in the wee hours of morning and after breakfast we had walked around six miles through the forest in the dark. It was just good daylight when we reached the Ashley deer camp on Capforks creek. There were tents and trucks with tarps over the stock racks and a few fires going around the area. It struck me as highly unusual to see a man with a mirror attached to a tree shaving with a straight razor. Nearby someone was cooking what smelled like a fantastic breakfast. The man who was shaving questioned us and seemed impressed that we had walked in from Big Flat. He ask if we would eat some breakfast and my brother told him that we had already eat before leaving home. I had walked off all that meal and hated my brothers dumb refusal to eat. The man looked at my brothers Iver Johnson rib barreled shotgun and seemed to approve of it as a deer gun. Then he looked at my Model 41 single shot .22 remington and with a doubting smile ask what I expected to do with that thing. My brother told him: "I would hate to be the buck that walked up on him. He can shoot squirell out of the tops of any tree that grows." We left going upstream with me still hungry and after going about half a mile I was told to follow a trail up a ridge line until I got to Barksshed road and we would meet at the road. My brother told me that he would move along the north side of the ridge and if ether of us spooked a deer the othe one might get a shot.
I had been coached to put the bullet just back of the shoulder if I got a shot. I had not reached my teen years and was not at ease alone in this area. My main concern was where my brother might be and I was listening mostly for any noise he might make.
I had killed hogs for butchering and had taken such things as rabbits and many squirrel and didn't expect to see a deer to shoot.
As I slipped along up the trail I heard noise ahead of me and stopped. Shortly a large racked buck turned a bend in the trail and stopped facing me. All I could see was its head and neck so I pulled the hammer back took aim at its forehead andshot deer dropped like a tub of guts and lay still.
My brother soon came up acting certain that I had somehow messed up."What did you shoot at?" "A big buck."
"Which way did it go?" "It didn't go anywhere, it is laying up there." I pointed at the deer and he ran to it, grabedts antlers and said: "It is a really big one."
He had it field dressed in short order keeping the liver and the heart as food items. I carried our guns and he drug it down hill to the branch, washed it out good and then drug it onto some big flat rocks that bordered the branch. While he rested three men came up the branch and one was the friendly man who shaved in the woods. They jjumped the branch and started examined the deer and asking questions. None had heard the shot and when my brother pointed out the bullet entry hole in the forehead they were dumbfounded. Mr shave in the woods told us that he wanted that deer hung up in camp and that I could stay with him. He wanted to show both me and the deer off and said that that night he would haul the deer to our home in in truck.
He and i drug the deer to his camp and he got it hung up. His truck was full of good eating stuff like potato chips, Treat meat, oranges, apples, and jugs of apple cider. I told him I didn't drink and he explained that the cider was just apple juice and had no alcohol in it. I feasted the whole day except when people come by to look at the deer. He always had to show them my rifle and where the bullet struck the deer. I was asked if I was nervious when I seen the deer. It all happened unexpected and to quick for me to get excited. It just stopped and I shot it. He hauled the deer home for us that evening and my brother insisted that he take a hind quarter and a shoulder back for camp meat. Back then good bucks were rare and this happened to be a good one that came down the wrong trail and met a kid who couldn't put a shot behind the shoulder. Ozark