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- Category Hunting Stories
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- Prostaff Member Trout Whisperer
I sit down yet again; I've tried getting the perfect seat. I just readjusted my jacket; soft cloth noises even seem loud right now. Ok I'm comfy, I'm situated just right, I got that little breeze shut out of the small of my back by tucking my jacket liner back in. Now I can just let it happen. Its gonna be a half hour before the sun comes up, I just checked my watch.
Sitting in the dark, I hear a branch snap. I wonder if its ten feet or a football field away. I also wonder what broke the branch, I hope it's a buck headed my way. Then as if I can listen any harder, I try to focus on the place in the dark, the direction in the dark, that the sound came from. Nope, not another peep, nothing else, so I ease back, resting into my stand as I look down the trail that is really to dark to discern anything, much less shoot something.
As the morning darkness goes from black, to wispy gray, a pine branch has me catching my breath, for a split second it looked just like a deer. I take a deep breath, collect myself and go back to scanning with my eyes, and trying to hear or hope a deer to come through the woods.
As full daylight surrounds me and all that is considered woods, is completely visible and in focus, the mystery of the day is gone. My attitude is going soft. My mind starts to wonder. Its eight thirty in the morning.
I scan most of the morning away and I'm getting restless, I know I should just sit still, let the deer come to me, but this sitting, is getting old. I think maybe I'll take a little leg stretch, sorta still hunt a buck onto my deer tag, but before I get up to leave, I look down the brush cleared trail for the umpteenth time and at the trails edge, almost to the end is an actual deer. No broken branch warning, it just appeared like magic.
It's a doe and she's got her radar locked on something behind her that I can't see. Her ears rotate, her tail swishes white, but doesn't come straight up, and in one fluid hop she's out of my sight, gone forever. I raise the rifle, aim where she was, and think, well maybe I can sit for a bit longer, as my sights fill with antlers.
I go into some slow motion Zen trance, its pure adrenaline overload. Knowing it's now or never, I click off the safety as the buck strides even more clearly into view, I aim just behind the front shoulder and touch off the shot. He drops like a rock. After a very large deep breath I think, Well, I don't need to sit here any longer. The trout whisperer