A deer hunting tale

[WV Sawmiller]

         Just so you understand the situation better before I get into the specific hunt I will describe later bear with me as I first describe the conditions in which I am hunting.

Five or six years ago I built an elevated shooting house for a deer blind on the back side of my property. It is built on locust poles and the bottom is about 9-10 feet above ground. It is 6’ square and slopes from about seven feet on the high end to about six feet on the low end with windows in all sides so I can shoot deer coming from any direction. The blind/hide is built at the junction of where two draws/ravines converge and merges on to a wide bench (a flat area on the side of the mountain) that naturally funnels the deer right past me. When our state authorized use of feeders to attract deer several years ago I hung a cable between two trees about 20 yards away from the East side and hung a plastic barrel that will hold about 100 lbs of shelled corn and I mounted a feeder with a timer that activates a spinner throwing corn for about 20’ in all directions. I hung the barrel on the cable about six to seven feet from each tree to help keep bears, raccoons and squirrels from climbing up to eat and damaging the feeder. I ran a pulley centered on the cable with lifting cable through it to an old used boat winch to a nearby tree and I raise and lower the feeder with the winch. Because I often hunt with a bow I made the windows large and lower than needed if I were hunting with a rifle, muzzleloader or even a crossbow. To compensate for the larger windows I hung burlap camouflage curtains on each window to help me hide when I am hunting up there. I built a door in one side with a ladder and small landing for egress and on the opposite wall I built a shelf with a rough 1”X10” board which is handy for storing supplies and such. I often hunt for long periods of time up there and do not want to scare away the game every time I have to go to the bathroom so I leave an old gallon milk jug up there as urinal. I keep an old plastic chair up there to sit in when hunting and I have a second, an old cheap dinette type chair for the rare occasions when I have a second hunter up there with me, usually youth hunts when one of my granddaughters hunts with me. I have a big problem with doves flying in and stealing the corn meant to attract the deer so I keep a slingshot up there and I keep a cup of glass marbles for ammo on the unused chair where they are handy. If there are no deer around I shoot at the doves and occasionally a squirrel or raccoon with my slingshot. Once I shot an old pore sow bear when she climbed up a small hickory tree and was reaching over getting into my feeder. I did not mind her having the corn but did not want her to tear my feeder down. The well placed marble impacting her on the butt cheek promptly sent her and her cubs packing. I sit in one corner and peek out the windows and when I see a deer I want to shoot I wait till he is behind a tree or not looking and I ease my rifle barrel out the window or stand and draw my bow and shoot when I am confident of my aim.

On the day in question it was the first day of our muzzleloader season and the events occur as follow:

I go up to my stand in the dark so I can get settled in before the peak morning feeding times that occur right at and shortly after sunrise. I had been up to the stand the evening before and found a chipmunk family had established residence on my shelf right behind chair making a nest out of some of my burlap camouflage, toilet paper and old hunting regs I had left there from the year before. They built it behind a couple of empty nylon feed sacks I had staged there for future use after I had filled my feeder with the corn in them. I tossed the nest out the window assuming they will move elsewhere. I move the camouflage curtains over the windows just enough to make a peephole I can see and shoot out of without making it easy for the deer to see me moving around above them. There is a big active scrape and some fresh rubs about 50 yards away where a big buck has been active and the rut is nearing its peak so I feel confident I will see and get a shot at him.

This morning in the dark I began to hear rustling in the dry leaves around me then crunching of corn being eaten. I can see shapes below of a pair of raccoons eating corn then I spot a couple of fawns coming in. They first look expectantly up at the plastic barrel overhead then they start sniffing the ground for food.  One little buttonbuck goes over nose to nose with a raccoon and neither seem worried by the other so they go back to feeding. Suddenly my feeder goes off for the scheduled 7:00 a.m. feeding which temporarily alarms the fawns when they get pelted with falling corn. They run off about 25-30 yards and stop and look back. When they see the undisturbed raccoons still feeding they return and are happily munching on the fresh fallen corn. As the sun rises and the area is fully lighted I hear more rustling in the leaves behind me and I spot an old doe approaching. She is pretty nervous and keeps looking behind her but seeing the fawns feeding seems to ease her concerns and she comes to the feeder and starts eating the corn. She shakes her head and stomps her foot and eventually chases the raccoons away. A big red fox squirrel comes half way down one of the feeder trees and flips his tail and whines and chatters softly at the doe but does not come down to the ground near her.

After a few minutes the old doe suddenly raises her head and looks off to the north with her ears up and tail twitching. I look in that direction to see what she is watching. Last year before a couple of fawns had alerted like that and it was the sow bear with her three cubs coming to the feeder that I mentioned earlier. In this case I spot antlers behind a fallen treetop. Finally the buck steps out in the open and is walking stiff legged with a bowed up neck towards the flirtatious doe he has evidently been tracking. As he passes a corner he is in my blind spot so I make sure none of the other deer are looking my way and will give me away when I move. None appear to be watching so I slowly raise my old muzzleloader and prepare to send a 240 grain jacketed, soft core pistol bullet in a sabot into the buck’s vitals.

As the buck walks under the tree with my winch cable attached I flip the safety off and start trying to center my crosshairs right behind his left shoulder and I start slowly squeezing the trigger for the kill shot. Suddenly I hear a rustling behind and above me and I glance back to see one of my chipmunks has evidently returned and has bedded down behind the old feed sack over my head. To make matters worse, while the deer below can’t see me that old fox squirrel is almost eye level with me and he sees me. The squirrel starts violently chattering and all the deer are on alert. The chipmunk hears him and sees me and jumps right down on my head and I jerk back and finish pulling the trigger. The muzzle is only inches from my dry burlap camo curtains and the flame shooting out the end of the barrel immediately sets them on fire. When I jerk the muzzle up the bullet hits the tree beside the fox squirrel “barking” him like the old timers used to do. The squirrel is knocked flying and lands right on the buck’s back where it hangs on like cowboy bronc rider. This causes the buck to jump upright and try to bolt away. When he jumps he gets his antlers tangled in the cable and violently shakes his head trying to free himself. He pulls so violently he breaks the hook at the end of the cable holding the barrel up and the recently filled barrel with a full 100 lb load of corn falls on top of his head.

Meanwhile in the deer blind above the chipmunk has jumped off my neck to the empty chair and knocking the cup full of marbles on to the floor of my shooting house where they scatter in all directions while he takes cover and hides behind my fanny pack in the corner. I am too busy trying to put out the fire from the flaming curtain to notice any of this. I rip the flaming curtain down and try to stomp out the flames before they spread to the other curtains in the other windows or set the dry spruce boards on fire. I seem to be getting the fire under control till I suddenly step on a couple of the loose marbles and my feet come flying up like one of those old Russian dancers and I fall flat on my back.

When I fall I knock the chair over into the corner and it falls across my fanny pack scaring the chipmunk out of his hasty hiding place. “Alvin” jumps out the open window and goes prospecting for a new home in a quieter neighborhood but on the way he runs across the last smoldering piece of burlap and sets his tail on fire. As he jumps out the window he sets the burlap curtains on the next window on fire. It is a larger window with bigger curtains and the flames erupting this time are much bigger than the first flare-up. I look around and spot an old broom in the corner I keep to sweep out the dry leaves that always seem to blow in. I grab it and start beating on the flames but the dry corn bristles on the broom also catches fire and manages to set the curtains in the third window on fire. I am getting desperate and see the half full milk jug full of old stale urine. In despair I grab it and twist the lid off and start sloshing it on the walls behind the curtains to keep them from catching fire. This seems to be working till I step on another marble and take another spectacular tumble. In the course of falling I throw my milk jug up in the air, it bounces off the shelf and sloshes the remaining contents right in my face which, while unpleasant, may be a good thing because I landed on the burning curtains and set my beard on fire and singed off my left eyebrow. The foul smelling liquid puts out the flames but the smell of singed hair and stale urine make me gag violently a few times.

I get up and finally get the flames of last of the burning burlap extinguished and pick up my muzzleloader and fanny pack. I gingerly walk to the door without lifting my feet so I don’t step on another marble. I look for the demon chipmunk but he is long gone. I climb down my ladder to the ground to take inventory of the conditions below. I see the unconscious buck lying beside my broken feeder and barrel. As I approach he suddenly jumps up, shakes his head and sees me standing in front of him with an empty muzzleloader. He is in full rut and was angry because he thought he was making some headway with the old doe before he heard a loud shot right over him, got attacked by a flying fox squirrel, got hung in my cable and knocked unconscious and is generally in a foul mood especially when he looks around and found his lady friend has headed for the next county. He looks at me with bleary red eyes and shakes his head at me and lowers his antlers as if he is thinking of attacking me. Here I stand with singed off beard and eyebrows, chipmunk scratch marks all over the back of my head and neck, bruises all over my backside from a couple of tumbles on the marbles on the floor, smelling like an outhouse, and an empty rifle. It may not be smart but I am probably in just about as foul a mood as he is so I draw back my rifle and prepare to give him and old Parris Island USMC butt stroke if he wants to pursue the issue. Finally, the buck thinks better of it and turns and trots off in the direction the old doe left.

I walk down the ridge to my where my ATV is parked and load my bruised and battered body and equipment on it and ride down the mountain to my home. When I walk in the door my wife sees me and says “I heard the shot but I don’t see any venison so I guess you missed again.”

(Well, it could have happened this way...)

[mike_belben]

But how big were the fish?  

[SawyerTed]

    That�s funny like Ed Zern or Patrick McManus.  

[Southside]

I fully expected you to say you managed to roll your ATV over on the way back to the house and plug your rifle barrel full of mud on top of everything else!!  

[WV Sawmiller]

 Southside,

   No I wanted to keep everything believable.

[Old Greenhorn]

You know, when I was a little kid and my Dad was doing a lot of Gunsmithing work in the evenings, I would sit on a tall stool and watch him, trying to learn and not ask TOO many questions. He had a little plaque hanging on the wall near his bench, I don't know what happened to it, but I will never forget what it said"

All Hunters are liars except for you and me,
And sometimes I am not so sure about you.

Good story.

[mike_belben]

 


Which reminds me of a sorta related piece of advice i try to remember.  The only way 3 people can keep a secret is if 2 are dead. Dont tell me man.. I dont wanna know! 

[WV Sawmiller]

   This all makes me wax nostalgic and think deep thoughts about hunting in general. I have come to observe that the hunting goods suppliers are making a mint off us poor hunters selling us all kind of cover up scents and attractants which are totally unnecessary. What we all should be doing is changing the way deer think about "man-smells". I am thinking of hanging all kind of bait stations, salt blocks, etc around my place. I am going to hang burlap bags or curtains such that the deer have walk among them and rub against them to get to the salt, feed or treats. I am going to coat these burlap curtains with my favorite bath and laundry soaps so when the deer walk between then they get this scent all over them. Then when the bucks smell the does they will all smell like my favorite laundry and bath soaps and they will get used to it and maybe even get attracted to it. Then when hunting season opens and I go up into my favorite woodlot and deer blinds to hunt the bucks will smell me as usual but this time they will think it is other deer and just follow the scent to right to me. I know - pure genius isn't it.

[Old Greenhorn]

Pure genius. 
 And with that I believe you have the seed of a new tale. Wish I still had my Macmanus collection but I passed it on to a young cousin when he showed some promise and interest, along with all my Ed Zern books too.

[WV Sawmiller]

   Sorry but I don't know who McManus is. I will have to look them up. He may be stealing my stuff.

   The only McManus I recall was my English Lit teacher Dr. McManus at Pensacola Jr College where I went before transferring to AU. She was a big fat lady but prominently displayed on the wall behind her desk was a 3' tall poster of a younger Clint Eastwood, apparently from his Dirty Harry days with windblown hair in San Francisco,and was signed "From One Magnificent Animal to Another - Clint". At least she had a sense of humor.

[Tacotodd]

IIRC, Patrick McManus of �Field and Stream�. He is widely renowned for his great humor and more time than not, quite plausible recollection of stories.

[Old Greenhorn]

I think Ed wrote for field and stream and Pat wrote for Outdoor life then moved over to field and stream when Ed retired. I loved them both and could not wait to read their stuff every month. Ed covered my youth, and Pat picked up the ball as I 'matured'. Somebody please correct me if (where) I have recalled incorrectly.
 Both of those men had a lasting influence on my sense of humor as well as my outdoor life in general.

[barbender]

I didn't know of McManus ever moving to Field and Stream. "The Last Laugh" column was one of the high points of my early teens onward😊 

WV, I've read a lot of your stories about adventures overseas in far flung places, and had come to think of you as a person of some culture...then you asked, "who is McManus?" and I realized I was dead wrong about you!😁😂

[doc henderson]

I think Ed wrote for field and stream and Pat wrote for Outdoor life then moved over to field and stream when Ed retired. I loved them both and could not wait to read their stuff every month. Ed covered my youth, and Pat picked up the ball as I 'matured'. Somebody please correct me if (where) I have recalled incorrectly.
 Both of those men had a lasting influence on my sense of humor as well as my outdoor life in general.

I am not so sure about the "matured" part or if you are truly staying out of trouble.     you did ask us to correct you!  I guess you did do half quotes.  

[Old Greenhorn]

I think Ed wrote for field and stream and Pat wrote for Outdoor life then moved over to field and stream when Ed retired. I loved them both and could not wait to read their stuff every month. Ed covered my youth, and Pat picked up the ball as I 'matured'. Somebody please correct me if (where) I have recalled incorrectly.
 Both of those men had a lasting influence on my sense of humor as well as my outdoor life in general.

I am not so sure about the "matured" part or if you are truly staying out of trouble.    you did ask us to correct you!  I guess you did do half quotes.  

OK, when in the cold hard light of morning I had to go find out, and correct myself because I like to have accurate knowledge before I muddle it up. I found a McManus archive and it had this to say "Over the course of his career, McManus established himself as a humor writer for a range of magazines and newspapers. From 1982 to 2009, he wrote a monthly humor column called the "Last Laugh" for Outdoor Life. He also served as the publication's editor-at-large. In addition, he served as columnist and associate editor for  Field and Stream from 1977 to 1982, and published essays in  Reader's Digest,  Sports Illustrated, and the  New York Times, among others."
So it appears I was mostly right, but had it backwards. He started at F&S, then went to Outdoor Life. I just wanted to set the record straight.  On the other point, no I never really matured, just got older. My wife can corroborate. 

[K-Guy]

And... now we know the rest of the story!!

[Old Greenhorn]

Ah, you guys sent me down the rabbit hole on the McManus thing. When I was looking up his bio I came across this: https://www.pbs.org/video/an-evening-with-pat-mcmanus-mzzbkn/ and that led to other you tube performances of his written works and plays, yes, he wrote plays too.
 Wound up watching it in the shop while I worked all morning. Fun stuff.

[SawyerTed]

If you�ve never read McManus I recommend A Fine and Pleasant Misery. Especially funny is Modified Stationary Panic.  

[WV Sawmiller]

   OK, I guess I must have read a little of Zern and McManus work in passing but I have never been a regular subscriber.

 As @barbender said I was working overseas much of my adult life trying to develop some culture and magazine subscriptions, mail and other things were a little late in coming sometimes. Instead of trying to figure what kind of architecture or art I was seeing like most folks visiting the centers of civilization in the rest of the world I was in more remote spots worrying more about which insect, reptile, disease or animal was trying to kill me next as well as dodging indirect fire and looking for booby traps every time I'd get in my vehicle. (Ever live or work any place you never opened or cranked your truck till you checked for trip wires and grenades in your tail pipe? I'd forget and people would think I was crazy crawling around checking underneath my vehicle in a Wal Mart parking lot when I was home on leave or such.) My neighbors were often living in mud huts or tents (Yurts/gers) and cooking outside over an open fire. The culture I picked up was more low level as I would often be the only white face in the area and the kids would come rub my skin to see if the color rubbed off or feel the texture of my wife's hair on the occasions she could come visit. My co-workers stayed in the camp or apartment we had rented for them while I'd go out and meet the locals and see where and how they lived. I still remember going to our nice compound pool one time and seeing a green mamba raise up about 2' higher than the shrubs and look me in the eye and if there was ever an animal with intelligence written in his expression it was him. Did you know baby bull elephants will charge you while their sisters will not? Ever been charged by a 500 lb silverback gorilla with a chest full of rippling muscles and 4' long arms? Don't look him in the eye or he will go ahead and attack. Ever try to pull a python out of a patch of papyrus reeds by the tail. I still don't know how long he was as I couldn't pull him free. I was able to take a small bushy limb and stop a black mamba in Ethiopia long enough for my wife to get his picture and I held back the bushes in Ecuador while my photographer wife got pictures of a 20' Green Anaconda with his tongue out and I caught a baby Nile crocodile in the Okavango Delta in Botswana. We got up there to find distinctive 3 toed hippo tracks about 10' from our tent that weren't there when we went to bed. Looking up from this computer I see my souvenirs including a pygmy crossbow, spears and bow and arrows, a rawhide Mongolian rope, red cloth from the Maasai and Samburu draped over baskets and such from around the world. There are boat paddles from Africa and a broad bladed canoe paddle from the Amazon, mortars and pestles and drums from remote areas. Those are my collections not famous paintings and such like other collect.

 Anyway, if I ever get a break I will try to go back and read some of Zern and McManus collections. One of my old time favorites was Harry and Charlie in the BassMaster magazine when I was a member of them an eternity ago.

[BradMarks]

Fantastic story .   Following that, you may not believe, but what I say is true.  Years ago I had a vantage point from a rock outcrop and below me was another hunter(sort of) from our camp.  I watched a decent buck go toward him and he fires. I see the buck go down, then scramble off the rocks to go down and congratulate him. I arrive and he is standing over the curled up buck. After a little conversation standing over the buck, he pulls out his knife to gut it, and I say "sure it's dead?","poke it with your rifle". And sure enough when he does, the buck jumps up and starts down the hill. He raises his rifle, shoots, and I watch the horns split in half, falling to each side of the bucks face. Never seen that before, and yes the buck was dead this time.

[WV Sawmiller]

   Well, I just fat-fingered another reply off into cyberspace. I hate it when I do that.

I used to hunt with a bunch of guys in South Alabama. One of them shot a deer and loaded it in a VW beetle and it came too. They had to abandon the car and eventually got it out and shot it again. It did a real number on the inside of the VW. Another time they spotted a 7 point feeding in an old corn field and shot it and threw it in the back of the truck and rushed away (Probably because they weren't supposed to shooting that close to a road) and it came to and they had to throw it in the yard and shoot it again. I saw one Outdoor magazine article where a guy shot a nice buck, put his rifle across the antlers and stepped back to take a picture and it came to and ran off with the slung rifle around its neck and they never saw the deer or the rifle again.

While carpooling to work one night Dad's driver hit a bobcat. They got out to look at it and pick it up. Dad picked it up by the hind legs and it came too and he stomped on it's neck and stretched it out and yelled for somebody to grab a tire tool or something and finish it off. Mr. Sam Prichartt was riding with them and he was a real nervous type and jumped back in the car and locked all the doors. It took a while to get him to open it so they could get the keys out of the ignition to open the trunk and get the tire tool. Meanwhile Dad is wrestling with a mad injured bobcat that he can't turn loose.

Mom's older/only brother, Uncle Donald, came on a half grown bobcat on a deserted dirt road in N. Fla. one night. It was blinded by his car lights so he had the bright idea of sneaking around behind and catching it which he did but he swore he would never catch another one!

My old HS hunting and fishing buddy's dad said when he was a kid they caught a half grown bobcat and put it in an old suitcase and set it beside the highway and stepped back to watch. A Caddy with NY plates stopped and grabbed the suitcase and sped away. About 100 yards down the road he said all 4 doors came open as people came out all of them.

[Tacotodd]

WV, that last one should have happened to the mob type of per. Probably didn�t, but should�ve 🤣

[WV Sawmiller]

   No, apparently it was just somebody thinking they were going to capitalize on someone else's misfortune. It did not quite work out that way.

[ellmoe]

Howard , when I was with Game and Fish , a jeep hit a doe one night, on the county road next to the wildlife management area I was running, "killing" it. The good " good ole boy " driver and his buddy ", not wanting to waste that free venison , got out and quickly threw that "dead" deer in the back seat and took off. If was not legal to do what they did so they were in a hurry. About ten miles down that straight stretch of road that doe came alive ! To  misquote Jerry Clower , they gave that deer the jeep! My buddy , a wildlife officer , came on that scene and said that every seat was shredded and everything that could be broken inside that jeep was. And then the deer left. So much for free venison.
   Years before , on a rare freezing day in North Florida , my cousin was deer hunting . In those days ( mid 70' ) Bruce drove a 1950 Chevy truck that was built like a tank. I know because I was riding in it during a deer chase on a winding , narrow dirt road that served as a boundary between our hunting lease and the next. Unknown to us as we pursued the deer and the dogs chasing it east , our northern neighbors were doing the same thing but going west. We met , rather abruptly , around a blind curve . My cousin and I in that black " battle tank " and him in that new . shiny , pretty , 4 x 4 Ford . Guess who won! We later drove off to catch our dogs , while he waited on his buddies to come tow his now shiny , but not so pretty , new truck off the junk yard. 
   Well , back on message . While hunting Bruce came upon a huge abandoned hornets nest. Biggest he had every seen. He had to have that nest. After considerable effort he got the nest down without damaging it. He carried the nest back to his truck and left it there and continued his hunt. After a few hours of damp , cold hunting , he deciding he had had all the fun he could stand and headed back to his truck. As he told me it was still just about freezing and he was chilled to the bone. No for you young guys , 1950 chevy trucks did not have a/c but they did have good heaters. About the time he got to the "hard road" , the truck was warming nicely. About ten minutes down the road , the " not so abandoned " nest came alive. Bruce said in just a minute that cab came alive with a big nest full of hornets. Now for those that have been in a 50 Chevy pick up you'll remember the cabs were quite small compared to today's trucks. Bruce said in a heartbeat those *pithed off hornets were all over him. All he could do was throw the truck out of gear , run off onto the grassed shoulder of the road , slow to about 40mph and bale out! As he was rolling he would catch glimpses of the tank barreling down the shoulder , heading to the woods. When he stopped he watched his truck plow through a barbed wire fence , take out a pulpwood pine , and stop when it hit the next one. As I recall it was an hour till he could reclaim his truck , throwing the nest out , to be recovered later. He was pulled out by a passing hunter and drove home. On a warmer day he came back and recovered that , now truly abandoned nest.

[WV Sawmiller]

   Brings back several memories - first was when we were kids and knocked down several big red and guinea wasp nests. We put them in an old brown grocery sack I guess to use the grubs for fishbait or such. I disremember exactly but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, several days later the sack came open and the wasps that had hatched in the interim attacked and we had to pull over and abandon the car and toss the sack out till we could clear out their siblings.

   I think I told this earlier but Grandpa was an early Game Warden down in Dixie Co. Fla and caught a man with an illegal deer. He gave the deer to the school as was the custom at the time. the next day at school they served venison stew to all. The hunter's son was in school and told Uncle Jr "We would not be eating this deer if it weren't for my dad." Uncle Jr immediately replied "You might be eating it but 'We' would not be eating it if it weren't for my dad." Both were correct.

[WV Sawmiller]

@ellmoe , further to your earlier comment about the guys throwing the "dead" doe in the back seat and it being illegal, several years back WV passed what has since been called the road kill law. We took a lot of flack from Jay Leno and the like on late night TV. The law basically allows drivers who hit an animal to call in and report the incident then they can take the animal home to salvage and use as they like. I really think it is a good law on several points:
1) No rational person is deliberately likely to run over a wild animal - the cost to repair their vehicle typically far exceeds any value of the animals meat, hide or horns.
2) Since the animal is already dead it only seems respectful to try to use any parts that can be used.
3) Removing the animal from the site reduces the cost to the county or road department because they don't have to do so.
4) Removing the carcass makes the area safer because predators and scavengers, including free ranging pets, are less likely to get killed or cause another accident by being on and around the road.

[ellmoe]

   I agree it can be a waste , but buzzards got to eat too!  More than once I made an "executive decision" to write a note allowing someone to take a road kill home. I started doing this after the charity home for girls began asking me to sneak the road kills in the back door so the girls didn't know what they were eating . The last straw was when they wanted me to butcher the deer before I brought the deer in. Sorry , but no. I believe young people need to be more connected to where their food comes from , not less. Additionally , I was "off the clock" picking up these deer for them , often several times a month. "Let them eat cake!"

[WV Sawmiller]

Ellmoe,

  My BIL in Alaska worked with a church group who would go pick up moose and such that got hit by cars and trains and such and they would butcher it and put it in some sort of food pantry they had for the needy. Of course with the cooler weather common to Alaska they likely had more time to work it up than you would in Florida. I understand that you don't have the time to butcher deer for other folks and I'd have felt that was unreasonable too. I have heard of zoos and such wanting road kill and that would be a good use. Maybe the same with any alligator farms such as may be found in Fla, Mississippi and LA.

   We had a Norwegian exchange student and she hunts with her dad and friends and such. Over there you or your club has to have access to a trained and certified tracking dog to be allowed to hunt. The DNR equivalent will lay a blood trail and you put the candidate dog on the track 24 hours later and he has to find the "animal" within some target time. She trained and got hers certified and the State would call her when an animal was injured by a vehicle and she would go track it down and she got paid or got to keep the meat. Over there legally killed game can be sold and we bought moose (Elk to a Noggie) in the local grocery store. It was about the same price as beef and I figured healthier for you if it came to that. They have a large native reindeer population in her area and I know she killed one and sold part of the meat to local markets. Evidently that is common in much of Europe.

  I agree buzzards have to eat to and so do the possums and coyotes and foxes and bears and such but they don't have to eat it on the road where I am driving. I think road kill is one of the big killers of hawks and eagles.

[Ron Scott]

It's Michigan's biggest killing cause of the Bald Eagle here. 

[samandothers]

Howard, I sure enjoy you stories.  This one as well as those about your family.  Thanks for the entertainment!  

[maple flats]

My story, and while not funny, it is true. For years I'd had problems with deer eating blueberry buds in my 4.5 acres of blueberries. Every year I'd get nuisance permits from the State department of environmental conservation (DEC). Nuisance permits I am issued each year are for Jan-the end of March and the last 2 years they gave my 1 week into April.After 3 or 4 years the agent came to inspect for deer damage and pointed to an open area between the 2 fields of blueberries. He said I should build a shooting house there.
AS it turns out, I had been thinking of putting one there, just had not "made the time" yet. Well, the following summer I did build the shooting house, at my sugarhouse. I built the platform 6 x 6 with clipped corners so it was 8 sided. 4 sides are about 4' wide and the clipped corners are just under 17" wide. The platform is on pressure treated 4"x4" legs with a PT 2x4 X brace sturdying them. I bought leg mounts made of steel that angled them a few degrees wider.. Once the platform and legs were built, I attached a brace made of double 2x6 across 2 adjacent legs and fastened another double 2x6 just under halfway across the platform under said platform. Since the platform was 10.5' high, that was how I could pick the whole thing up using my forks on my tractor. I then had my BIL follow me, while I carried it to the blueberries some .7 miles, along a county 2 lane road, then a 2 lane state highway. Then to a busy intersection with another state highway. Across that intersection, onto a city 2 lane and finally onto a dead end city (outside district) 2 lane that serves my blueberry fields. While I drove, maybe 4-5 MPH along the road I had to keep track of how close the legs were to thefrom the road, at max lift I only had maybe 6" clearance. When I got to the driveway into my fields I got to the hardest part. The driveway slopes down off the road at maybe 8-10 degrees and about half way down that 15' ramp there are heavy phone wires (as bundled, they are maybe 2" in a bundle, then wrapped with a loose fitting cover, my guess is to protect from the elements, mainly the sun). To get under that it took several minutes. I kept the legs just about an inch off the ground while my BIL used a Y pole we'd gotten ready before starting the journey lifted the wire bundle so I could get under. He had to lift 1 side, then the other, back and forth maybe 5-6 times.
WE finally got under them and carried the legged platform to it's resting spot. We set 4" solid concrete blocks where each leg was to rest and parked the platform. Then I removed the carry rigging from under the platform.
Over the next 6 weeks I built the framework, all 2x4's and I added a 2x4' landing which was part of the initial framing on the platform. Up to the platform I built a set of steps with a railing on 1 side. The shooting house is 7' high inside. I covered the sides with OSB. Each wide side has a 11" x 23" horizontal window, each clipped corner has the same size vertical window. The door side also has a horizontal window the same size. Once I got the sides all done I again enlisted my BIL and my nephew to help with the roof. It was a peaked roof, and I'd gotten steel roofing to do the job. the framing was done and I'd put OSB decking on, they were just helping on the steel. While we were doing the steel one evening my grandson Adam, then 21 stopped by to get something. I said, "you can help too if you want". Now Adam had worked with me since he was 7 in the blueberries, and once I started making maple syrup he was a big help with that. It surprised me but he said he couldn't because he had an appointment. He was as I said, 21 at the time and had never shown any interest in hunting. About 2 weeks later I learned he had gotten his hunter safety and that was what his appointment was.
That next hunting season I was proud to coach Adam on his first hunt. In the shooting house I had 2 comfortable chairs, one a steel lawn swivel chair and the second a better folding chair. Adam watched the north west window and I watched the opposite window. I saw one deer, but it was past the blueberries and in the next field, which was on the inside district, no hunting allowed there. My fields on the south end are right at the edge of the outside district. Shortly after that Adam said he sees a deer. While still looking toward the south, I say, can you get a good shot. he says, he thinks so. I did not see the deer, because I didn't want to turn and have the deer see thru Adam's open window and see my motion. I tell him, take a couple of deep breaths and then hold the scope on the spot right behind the front leg and squeeze slowly. I said do it so slow the shot surprizes him when it fires. A moment later BOOM, his 30-06 sends a pointed tip 165 gr Nossler Spitzer on it's way. I ask, did you hit it? He answers "I don't know, I saw a bunch of deer run when I shot, some ran into the woods behind where the deer was and some ran into the pines to the right". I said, we'll sit and wait for about 10 minutes, then go look. I now turn around and ask where the deer were. Adam says they had just walked from the woods behind where he shot. He said originally he only saw 5, with the shot he said they became 8 or 10.
The place where he said the deer he shot at was turned out to be about 175 yds away. I asked how did the shot feel and Adam said "good". After our 10-12 minute wait and no more deer,we took our guns and slowly proceeded to look. The deer had been at the far north west end of that field and the rows went north- south. I told him to walk very slowly down the outside row while I'd walk down 3 aisles to the east. Shortly after we started down the rows Adam said "the deer stood back up". I could not see it, and in a low voice asked if he had a good shot, he said yes and I said shoot it again. This time it fell with the shot. Those rows are 450' long, his last shot was about 425'. As we approached he had 2 deer, both perfect shots. He had 2 doe tags and we were real happy indeed, we actually wanted to cull does because they on average add 2 more each spring and in Jan-March deer eat enough blueberry buds to cost about $1000 in crop for each adult deer. I then went, got the tractor and loaded both into the FEL. He tagged them while I was getting the tractor. We carried them to the woods behind my sugarhouse and I taught him how to gut the deer.
Grandpa sure was proud of his Grandson.
Since the shooting house has been there a lot of deer have been taken, about half in season and half on nuisance permits. While I used to hunt quite a bit, since starting to make maple syrup I only rarely hunt. I've not yet shot any from the shooting house, all have been invited hunters.

[maple flats]

Another shorter story, about 2 years later. Adam asked if anyone was hunting the blueberries and I said he could. This time he was hunting alone and I was working at the sugarhouse. About 3:30 I finished for the day and went home. I took my boots off and settled into my recliner. Then Adam calls, saying he shot a little buck. I asked how big, he said he's waiting for me before he goes to look.
I put my boots back on drive down the 3 miles to the blueberries. Adam meets me at the road, and gets into the truck after confirming his gun is unloaded. I ask where it is, and he directs me to the spot. We look at the deer, I congratulate Adam and I turn the truck around and have Adam get onto the 7x7' aluminum flat bed. We hook a strap to the 2 front legs and Adam pulls as I lift the rear end. Once on the bed of the truck I say, "Do you realize that is a huge deer?" as I looked at the width of the rump. He didn't realize it. This was a 7 pointer, which is not very common where we hunt. We gutted the deer and then hauled it to a meat cutter because the weather was too warm for us to cut it. When we dropped the deer off there were likely 25 or more deer awaiting cutting the 2 meat cutters there. Some had 10 and even a 12 point rack. The meat cutter called 2 days later that his deer was ready. Now, anytime I've taken my deer to get cut up, the biggest ones come back in 2 boxes, smaller ones (like our common 120-130# deer) come back in 1 box. This one rode home in 3 heavy boxes. I just wish we'd asked him to weigh it before cutting.
Later, after the season ended my BIL was at a fire dept meeting, both he and the meat cutter were members of the volunteer fire dept in that town. The meat cuttr told my BIL that Adam's deer had been the biggest bodied deer he cut all season (and that meat cuttr does 400-450 each year.)
Needless to say Grandpa was proud of Adam again.
As I write this story I'm getting ready to go see Adam for the first time since last Christmas. Adam is in the Navy, went thru Navy Seal training then on to EOD (explosive ordnance disposal) While he did not become a seal (he completed the training but somehow the Navy leaders in that training said they could only take 52 of the successful trainees, Adam's class had 57 remaining. The elimination was a sprint. Now, understand that they had just completed HELL WEEK. In none of their training had a sprint been any part of their training. They all had absolutely majorly abused feet and were completely exhausted. Well Adam beat out 4, he came in fifth from the end, he was out. His next move was to find out what he'd do. He still had the rest of his 6 yr hitch to serve.
He had 2 buddies from training who tapped at some point in HELL WEEK and were thus out. They got called to be in EOD and both accepted because an EOD man or 2 works with each seal mission. Once thos 2 buddies heard Adam was out, they told their officer that Adam would be great for EOD. They were asked which would give their spot to Adam, and with hesitation both eventually raised their hand, they would give up their spot. As it turned out neither lost their spot and the 3 proceeded to start the extensive EOD training. (this is not what I'd have chosen for Adam, but I still supported him).
Anyways, Adam got in last night for 9 days. He has 3 weeks but must self quarantine on his time the rest of the time before he returns to active duty once back in San Diego.
My wife and I will see Adam shortly after lunch, while maintaining proper social distancing with Covid 19 surging locally. While necessary that will be hard to do.

[WV Sawmiller]

@maple flats ,

  Great stories and obviously great memories. I know you are proud of your grandson and hope you guys get to hunt many more times in the blueberry house.

   It sounds like your state lets you use the meat with damage permits. I understand some do not. My son had a friend with a big farm and the got damage permits and could even shoot up until 10:00 pm at night. I was working overseas and they would schedule with my wife the time and size deer she wanted.

  I must admit I was a little concerned about this statement as I am not exactly sure what you may be implying and hope you are not challenging the veracity of what I have faithfully reported to the best of my recollection "My story, and while not funny, it is true."

[gspren]

Since there are some Patrick McManus fans here do you recall when Al Hirscfeld was doing the drawing that accompanied the McManus story and he always hid his daughters name (NINA) in the drawing, sometimes multiple times. My wife always grabbed the magazine to look for nina before I could read it.

[Old Greenhorn]

I never knew that. Wish I still had my old copies now.

[maple flats]

@maple flats ,

  Great stories and obviously great memories. I know you are proud of your grandson and hope you guys get to hunt many more times in the blueberry house.

   It sounds like your state lets you use the meat with damage permits. I understand some do not. My son had a friend with a big farm and the got damage permits and could even shoot up until 10:00 pm at night. I was working overseas and they would schedule with my wife the time and size deer she wanted.

  I must admit I was a little concerned about this statement as I am not exactly sure what you may be implying and hope you are not challenging the veracity of what I have faithfully reported to the best of my recollection "My story, and while not funny, it is true."
Yes here the State requires us to use the meat. We can consume it our selves, give it to a family in need or donate it to a feed the hungry program.
I was not trying to imply your story was not 100% factual, just that mine is!

[WV Sawmiller]

   Oh yeah! That's like saying "I'm not saying you are lying but I am telling the truth." Isn't that the same thing.

    Besides, a little straying for the complete truth when talking about hunting or fishing is not really lying is it? That is just a minor embellishment of the facts and should be expected. 

[maple flats]

It's just that I was taught to be 100% factual, even with hunting stories.

[maple flats]

Another story, this time I was hunting with my dad and brother. We had a piece of land we were allowed to hunt by the farmer who owned it. He was not a hunter.
This land had a creek thru the middle and at 1 spot there was an old bridge on a seasonal road. The bridge and road had been closed in the mid 50's or 60's when Interstate 90 was put thru.
Along one side of the creek was a long, fairly narrow corn field, then the roadway along side the field went thru a hedge row and there was a larger corn field. The first field went essentially north/south. Along the west side of that cornfield was a long boggy brush filled area, too wet to plant. It was between 200-300' wide, and varied in width as it went northward.
On the day I'm describing, I said I'd walk the brushy portion after my dad and brother had time to get into position. They were going to walk along the creek (a farm road followed the creek). After going thru the hedge row my dad was going to take watch in the hedgerow, my brother was going into the woods to the west side of the second cornfield.
After about 30 minutes I started my "silent drive" About 10 minutes later I heard 2 shots that sounded like they came from the east side of the creek and were fairly far away. With those shots I stood still for maybe 10 minutes to see if anything was going to come thru. Then I resumed my drive. About 2 minutes later I heard a loud shot and it sounded like it would have likely been my dad who shot. Again, I stayed motionless for 6-8 minutes, nothing came. I then resumed my drive again. At the end of the drive, as I was even with that second field, I turned toward the field. Shortly, I came upon a drainage ditch, about 4' wide and 2-3' deep, full of water, oh, and a dead 8 pointer. I left it there temporarily and proceeded to where my dad was, about 75 yds from the ditch. I asked if he'd seen anything and he said a while after the earlier 2 rapid shots a nice buck ran across in front of him and dad shot, but he missed it. I asked where that deer had run and he pointed to the trail I'd exited the brushy area on. I then told him to come see the deer he had "missed".
In the brushy area we came to that drainage and I asked dad if that was the deer. He said yes it was. We dragged the deer out, gutted it once on the edge of the field. By then my brother was there to help. Since dad was 81 or 82, my brother and I dragged. This was on Thanksgiving morning in '93 or '94.
The following Saturday we again hunted the same area. Again, dad went to the hedge row but then went into the brushy area, past that drainage and took watch up against a large clump of mature willows, my brother this time went east and stood watch near the creek. Near a wider but more shallow spot (maybe 30' wide but only 1' deep there) where he saw an established deer trail exiting the creek.
Once they had time to get into position, I again started a silent drive (my most successful type). About 20 minutes into the drive, Kaboom! It sounded close. I dropped to 1 knee and waited to see if anything would come my way. After a long wait, I got up and resumed my drive. When I got to dad I again asked if he'd seen anything and he said he'd shot but missed one to the west of where he was, it had come from where I'd just run the drive.  My brother arrived where we were a few minutes later. We talked, and then my brother and I went to track the buck dad thought he'd missed. Along the outer, west edge of that woods, we found dad's "missed" buck.
Over the years my brother and I then wondered how many deer dad had shot over the years but didn't realize he should track them? We will never know the answer to that, but if we had not been hunting with dad those 2 days, just 2 days apart, 2 bucks, each 8 point would have either been claimed by another hunter or more likely would have feed the coyotes and other critters. At that point, as I said earlier, dad was 81 or 82. Over the years he's only "gotten" 1 doe and no bucks in his life (that year we were allowed 2 bucks, one on the regular license and the second on an either or doe tag, good for buck or doe.
Because of those two 8 pointers, the first one a really nice, heavy bodied 8 in his prime, and the second an 8 point well past prime (as we tried to roll him over one antler came off, and that was just 2 days after Thanksgiving). Dad started hunting before hunter safety was first given, so he just bought a license and went hunting, no training. His dad never hunted. It concerns me how many dad likely killed but never brought home because the deer did not fall in his sight. Both of those deer he got were perfect shots , both double lung. 1 went about 75 yds, the second went about 100 yds. Dad never hunted alone again at our insistence, and unfortunately he never fired another shot. He quit hunting all together at age 87, and died at 91, in 2003. God rest his soul!

[WV Sawmiller]

Maple,

 Sounds like some great memories with your dad. We never did much of the silent drives but it makes sense. I grew up hunting in the deep south and dogs were used. I can honestly say I never remember killing a deer the dogs were chasing. I have missed a few including emptying a 30-30 in an open field on a yearling hitting the ground about every 20 feet. I have killed deer on dog hunts but always assumed it was because the movement in the area had them moving and trying to sneak past the other hunters and such.

 I know your dad was proud of his deer and glad you guys found them for him. It is amazing how far a well hit deer can sometimes run. It is depressing to think of someone not making a huge effort to track them. In Norway you have to have or have access to a trained, certified tracking dog to hunt up injured animals before the state will grant you a license. You also have to fire at least 30 rounds in practice then hit a 5" target 5 times in a row at 100 meters before you can hunt. The Game warden observes and certifies and puts your rifle number on your license. We have a former exchange student over there who got her N. Elkhound certified and the state will sometimes call her to track an injured animal hit by a car or such.

 I shot a doe 2 months ago I first thought I had missed till I went and checked to be sure and found a big pool of blood spray where she'd been standing and a clear blood trail 40-50 yards before I found her. The small buck I shot yesterday first trotted off like I had missed then stumbled, ran in a half circle and collapsed. I was using a 230 grain .44 jacketed pistol ball in a sabot in my 50 caliber muzzleloader and got both lungs and had a 2" or bigger hole out the back side resulting a very clan kill.

It's just that I was taught to be 100% factual, even with hunting stories.

 That's downright depressing! You don't sound like you grew up in the rural areas of the deep South. Tall tales and embellishment was considered a valued skill and old timers went to great lengths to try to outdo each other. I understand the old Mountain Men did much the same. My grandkids can almost repeat my "Best Shot" tale below verbatim.

Hunting trip – The best shot I ever made When I was 7-8 years I got up one morning and Momma came from the smokehouse and told me we were out of meat so she wanted me to go shoot some fresh meat. I took down our old single shot musket George Washington had given my grandpa back during the war for independence. I walked down to the river which was so small you could step across it in most places and the moon was no bigger than a dime back then. I walked down the river to a good spot and sat down right on the river bank leaning back against a big old gum tree. It was pretty quiet and I fell asleep till a big old flock of blackbirds lit in the tree over me and woke me up. I looked up and there was a big 8 point buck feeding 20-30 yards in front of me with 2 big old turkey gobblers behind him. I heard a splash and looked back and saw a big old swamp rabbit swimming the river headed my way. Beside my right leg I saw a big old rattlesnake raised up ready to strike. I decided I better do something quick so I raised that old musket and let her rip. The bullet hit that deer right in the head and killed him graveyard dead. The bullet hit his horns and split in half and each piece hit one of those gobblers and killed both of them. The barrel of that old musket swung around and hit that rattlesnake in his open mouth and killed him. The noise was so loud 25 of those blackbirds had a heart attack and fell down dead all around me and I collected them and Momma made a pie out of them. The recoil of that old musket knocked me in the river and I fell on that swamp rabbit and drowned him and brought him back with me. To top it off when I waded out of that river I had on a pair of those old hip waders and they were full of a mess of bluegills.

Fishing – Strangest thing I ever saw fishing – When I was stationed at Albany GA I went fishing down on the banks of the Flint River one morning. It was a nice quiet day without much going on till I saw a 6 ft long log come floating by with a hickory nut on top of the log. The log drifted under a low hanging live oak limb and a big old red fox squirrel jumped out of the tree on to the log and started eating that hickory nut. Suddenly the biggest bass I ever saw jumped out of the river and swallowed that squirrel whole. I sat there amazed thinking that was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen then suddenly I realized it was not. The most amazing thing I ever saw while fishing was when I saw that bass put another hickory nut on that log and I saw him pushing it back upstream to try and get another squirrel.

             During the Spring Break of 1989 I met my dad down at Old Town for what turned out to be his last fishing trip. My son Sean was 10 years old at the time. Dad took him out in Old Town Hammock and I cut some swamp cabbage while they supervised and criticized all my work. Dad showed Sean how to tie an cabbage heart to a cabbage fan and drag it out of the woods. We had put out catfish hooks and were catching lots of big catfish. We’d check the lines at daylight then throw the catfish in a #2 washtub full of water in the back of Dad’s truck and we’d go eat breakfast and a little caf� about half a mile in front of John O’s gas station. We’d be in there eating and a bunch of misplaced Yankees would walk past the truck and hear and see those big catfish splashing in the tub and they’d come in and asked “Who caught all those big catfish out there”. Dad would never crack a smile or let on and he’d just point at Sean and say “That boy there caught the in the ditch down by the road with a cane pole using grasshoppers for bait.” Now you know Yankees are gullible and they believed him. By the end of the week Sean was adding to the tale saying “Yeah, I’d have caught more but that was all I could drag home.” We’d get done eating and those Yankees would be chasing grasshoppers all along the right of way and fishing in all the old muddy ditches by the road.
           

[Old Greenhorn]

I met a guy while deer hunting one time who claimed to be a pretty good shot. Around here, with the thickness of the woods, most game is taken under 50 yards, but he said he hunted a lot out west where the long shots were the name of the game. He claimed that he could shoot big game so far away that he would have to put salt on the bullet to keep the meat from spoiling before he could hike to it.

All fisherman and hunters are liars, except you and me, and sometimes I am not so sure about you.

[WV Sawmiller]

   Yeah, my old HS hunting buddy used to say that he had to put salt in his shells to keep the ducks he was shooting from spoiling before they hit the ground because they were so high up.

 The bigger the windy the better especially when there are kids or a real gullible person in the room. I can remember when Dad was complaining about birds stealing the food he put out for the chipmunks (Yes, there are chipmunks in N. Fla) and we speculated on making a microwave gun, feeding the birds popcorn then zapping them to pop the corn in their gullets. We had a great idea but the design team were unable to support the idea team.

 I took a back foot off a beaver to school when I was a senior I guess and we had a couple of the teachers convinced it was a Gollywhopper claw. I told her it attacked and I shot it in self defense and barely survived the encounter.  we had told her for years about the gollywhoppers and wampus cats coming out of the swamp near where we lived. The "claw" really had her going till the biology teacher narrowed it down due to the webbed feet.