We went out again two Saturdays ago. This time, I brought my grandfather's sporterized Mauser in .270Win [receiver made somewhere in Berlin in 1939 - I once looked up the factory name but I can't recall it at the moment]. It is considerably lighter than my heavy-barreled Savage10FP, and the relatively dense wooded environments we encountered do not permit very long shots that might demand a scoped rifle. After popping balloons [great reactive targets if your range permits them!] at 100yds, I'm relatively confident that I can get hits with it.
After ten minutes on the trail, my shooting buddy and I parted ways with the neighbor who came out with us. No sooner had we turned and taken a few paces, I heard rustling off to my left. I made a fist gesture which halted my shooting buddy, and I turned slowly toward the sound. There, I saw what was probably a doe about 20 yards off. As soon as I realized what I was seeing [local time was 6:50am, ten minutes until sunrise, and relatively dark], she darted off through the brush making a characteristic though surprising patter of hooves onto soil.
I feel foolish to report that, while my Mauser's magazine contained three 130gr .270 softpoints, the chamber was empty as I had not yet 'gotten into position.' Moreover, it was suspended from my shoulder instead of resting with the butt on my belt; I had not looped up. As I later reported to my girlfriend and friends, this doe snuck up on
us!
Since it was not either-sex day, I could not lawfully have taken a shot on a female, and I do not remember seeing antlers. Admittedly, I was very startled and the encounter was extraordinarily brief, so maybe I was face to face with a 250lb buck with antlers the size of coat racks, but I certainly didn't notice if that was the case. Nevertheless, on another day I would have missed out on a great opportunity. Lesson: from your very first step, be prepared!
Shooting buddy and I split up to maybe coax the deer back into sight, but that proved unsuccessful. About an hour later that morning, I heard the same distinctive patter of hooves from a thicket of trees across a shallow valley. Peculiarly, it doesn't result in rustling of leaves the way squirrel and human walking does. While I may have seen some motion, I never had a clear view of anything recognizable as a cervid.
The temperature of my hands and fingers slowly fell throughout the morning, but the sunrise and clear skies brought plenty of radiant heat. We sat around for a while, and I took these photos as sunlight percolated through.
This was my third expedition ever into the wood with the purpose of hunting and my first ever sighting of the elusive whitetail. I felt encouraged that, while I may not have had the opportunity to shoot, deer do exist and don't necessarily hear humans treading through leaves from the miles away that I once imagined they could. We're going to try one more hunt this year during the first weekend of either-sex day in December, and we'll probably camp at the edge of the property instead spend the first 1.5 hours of the morning driving to it. Presumably, this will provide for a much earlier start and we can be in position long before sunrise.
The story of this day isn't quite over, though. At around 10:30 or so, while resting on a fallen tree and having just decided to pack out, a squirrel made the fatal error of climbing out of the canopy and running right across our path. My shooting buddy trailed him, treed him, then shot him out of it with his Mossberg 500. While he freely admits that four shots - three clean misses, one non-tactical reload, and then a well-placed fourth shot - were probably too many, shooting buddy seemed pretty thrilled with his kill. We brought it back to the place we were sitting and dressed and skinned the little critter in very little time. We had trouble keeping the carcass clean, and I believe the intestines were nicked a bit earlier than intended, but otherwise it went relatively well. The pelt was mostly usable, and the carcass later proved edible.
Somewhat.
11-04-2009, 09:45 AM
A Fine November Afternoon in the Field
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