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| Northwestern Indiana 8-point whitetail deer. |
Firearm season opened Saturday, Nov. 18 in Indiana, but due to work commitments this time of year, I almost never hunt the opener, and this year was no different. Instead, my opener was Wednesday, Nov. 22, an overcast day in the mid 30s with a steady north wind. I was in the tree stand before daybreak (5:30 a.m.) and saw no deer for the first few hours. I heard a screech owl call, and the Great Blue Heron patrolled the creek behind and to the left of my position, and wood ducks paddled by. I sat in the south prairie tree stand, the honey hole of a spot on my family's Northwest Indiana acreage. I look out on a 10-acre prairie, with a creek that forms my right hand border, as well as runs behind and to the left of me. Since putting up the tree stand, I am three-for-three the past years in harvesting a buck trying to sneak his way into the thick terrain behind me.
At 7:30 a.m., I heard a shot just east of me--surely a hunter just got lucky. I waited some more, and at 8:20 a buck was suddenly headed my way, 100 yards in front of me, taking the trail between prairie and the creek. Since he was slightly to my right (2 o'clock position), I quickly shifted in my seat and angled my Savage 220 slug shot gun toward him--it was an awkward shooting position for me and the adrenaline was kicking in. I had no shooting rest. He looked spooked at 75 yards away and started to step into the thicket that runs next to the creek...so I fired. He disappeared into the thicket. I wasn't sure I hit him.
I decided to wait until 8:45 before descending the ladder to look for any sign of impact. But five minutes later, the buck (a nice 8-pointer) stood up in the thicket less than 50 yards to my right. He ran, jumped, and continued to streak northbound across the prairie. I was unprepared and took the best running shot I could as the buck porpoised away. He out-smarted me.
Despondent, I descended the ladder and followed. At the north end of the prairie, where the creek takes another bend at the base of a hill, I saw the buck disappear. Near that same spot, a doe also flashed a whitetail of warning and disappeared northbound. I realized then I should have stayed in the tree stand. Perhaps the doe was leading a different buck into my position. It was a frustrating end to my opening morning. Later, the afternoon hunt until dusk produced no deer sightings at all.
The next day, Thanksgiving, was clear and in the mid-30s again. With a steady wind from the west-southwest, I hunted the south prairie tree stand in the morning and the north prairie tree stand in the afternoon, but no deer appeared all day. Other wildlife made its presence known. A hawk landed eye-level in a tree 30 feet to my left, and a muskrat sounded its tail smack warning in the creek behind me. The Great Blue Heron continued to hunt the creek. My family joined me at the cottage for a full Thanksgiving dinner after sundown. Other than no deer, it was a day in which to be thankful.
On the third day of my hunt, Friday, Nov. 24, I was almost convinced my season was essentially over. I have missed bucks before and subsequently have then never seen another one during the same season. I wondered if I'd suffer the same fate this year.
I decided to hunt the south prairie tree stand that morning. Although predawn temps registered in the low 30s, weather forecasters predicted highs in the 50s for the afternoon. A brisk wind blew from the south-southwest. At 7:09 a.m., my second chance buck appeared. I heard his footfalls in the dry leaves before I saw him.
From the west (my immediate left at the 9 o'clock position), an 8-pointer walked down the hill from the small cut corn field above. It was slightly smaller than the other 8-pointer from two days earlier. I easily slipped my gun into the ready position--the buck was in the perfect position for minimal movement on my part. I had a natural gun rest by using my left elbow as a prop. He reached the bottom of the hill and the end of the tree line, facing me. I decided not to wait for him to present a broadside shot, so, as soon as he stopped at the bottom of the hill and raised his head, I shot. I aimed for his upper chest / lower neck region. He was 30-50 yards away.
On impact, the deer reared back for a moment, then quickly fell to the side, dead in his tracks. I hit him at the base of the neck, a fatal shot. No more than 20 seconds expired from the time I heard him walking in the leaves until the time I pulled the trigger. My second chance was cashed in.
Later, my family stood by as I gutted the deer (Cole said "My disgust emotion is turned off" as he watched). I was thankful that they were there to help me drag it up the hill--the same one the deer descended. Since the day was warm (high of 56), I hung the deer until the afternoon and then quickly processed it that night and the next morning. Three days of hunting in order to go four-for-four the last four years: I'll take it, second chance or not.
