Deer Me

It must have been near noon when Lane returned because he had taken a large load to his stand. He was very hungry and over a noon meal of burnt beans and franks (he did the cooking) he told me of his newly constructed home in the tree. From what he told me, Tarzan would have been jealous. He had a plywood floor, railing, a bench that ran 360 degrees around the stand, and a gently sloping full roof. He even had a spot picked out for his portable heater, his radio (he used earphones), and place to hang his lunch box. I asked about a television, but he informed me the reception would be poor. As soon as he had eaten we walk out and took at look. I must say, it was, well, different. Try to imagine a mini-condo, built by someone with very little skill, in a big old oak tree and you have the idea.

We spent the next few months scouting the area and were both very excited when deer gun season rolled around. The day before the big day, we arrived at our usual campsite with my jeep filled with a ton of gear, most of which belonged to Lane. Since we had a little time before dark, I walked to my tree and stuck a reinforced cut piece of plywood in the V of a big oak tree. That and my safety harness would be the whole tree stand. Lane, however, was bend over carrying all of his extra gear to this stand. I had dinner done by the time Lane returned that evening.

An hour before sunrise the next morning we were both in our tree stands. I leaned against the old oak and listened to the early morning sounds as the surrounding woods came awake. At one point I spotted a red fox crossing the road about one hundred feet east of my stand. I always enjoyed this part of the hunt. It was as if the time of the day and the silence gave a man time to think and relax. I took a glance at my watch and noticed deer season had officially opened ten minutes earlier. The sun was peaking over the distant hills and I could see very clearly. It was at that exact moment I noticed a deer moving toward my stand.

I can never figure out how they do it, but deer seem to “just appear” at times. I suspect it is due to the human mind and eyes always moving and we just done see them. But, nonetheless, a nice big buck was coming in my direction and regardless of the number of years I have hunted I got excited. I didn’t raise my rifle or even move. I wanted him to get in close. It seemed to take hours for him to slowly move to within about fifty feet of my stand. As I watched his head lower, I slowly raised my rifle and fired.

I was not the least bit surprised to see the deer jump and then run off toward a group of trees. I placed my rifle on safety, unloaded it, check the chamber, removed the bolt, attached a piece of nylon cord with a locking snap hook to the sling and lowered it to the ground. Once my gun was safely on the ground, I got down out of the tree. It was then I heard Lane running up to my stand.

“Did you get one?” He asked with his eyes dancing with excitement.

“Yep, he’s in that group of pine trees over there.” I said as I pointed off in the direction the buck had gone. “Let’s go get ‘em.” Lance said in a loud voice as he looked off toward where I had pointed.

“Nope. First I am going to have a cup of coffee and then we might go in a bit.” I spoke as I pulled my thermos out of my butt pack and unscrewed the cup.

“Are you crazy! He’ll get away. You’ll have to track him all day!” “Nope, Lane, I got him with a solid hit. Let’s give him time to bleed a bit and find a spot where he thinks he is safe. We rush on him now and his adrenaline will kick in and we will make a mess of it. Let’s let his stiffen up a bit and bleed. He ain’t going no place. Besides it would be cruel to pester the buck now, let him go in peace.” I poured the steaming coffee in the cup and took a drink as soon as I had spoken. Lane, like so many other hunters, did not agree with my plan.

The next twenty minutes were filled with silence and constant shakes of Lane’s head. I guess he thought I had lost my mind. But, I knew from hunting as a youth, if I just let that old buck alone, he would not go far. Finally, I recapped my thermos and moved off toward the trees. Lane, with his rifle at the ready, looked like the military man he was. Only, it was just like I had said, the deer didn’t go far. We found the buck dead, under the low limbs of a tree, maybe 100 feet from my stand.

I continued to hunt with Lane for a few more years and skunked him all but one year. I only know of him filling his tag once, the last year we hunted together. At least I suspect it was a deer, but it was awfully small, so it may have been a large dog with antlers. I spent years attempting to teach Lane to enjoy nature, to spend a great deal of time knowing his hunting area, to scout as often as he could, and to disturb the natural surroundings as little as possible. Well, my lessons never did really take fruit. Hunting is challenge for most of us to a degree, but a lot of it is just plain common sense and doing you homework. You can’t pass any test if you don’t study for it, and I view hunting as a test. So, do you homework, study hard and I will see you at the check in station! Oh, and if you can, leave Lane at home

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