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First Buck— A Trophy x 2 N SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2007, WE GOT to the stand around 6:15 a.m. on a ranch in Montague County that I have hunted for seven seasons now. By 7:30 a.m., Ross had spotted a cow with calf and two does crossing our field of view to the left of our stand on the west side. Just before 8:00 a.m., we heard noises that would stand the hairs on our necks. Buck growls, snorts, and leaves rustling from deer pushing each other echoed in the woods about 150 yards from our stand. Our stand is surrounded by a creek with woods behind us to the south, and otherwise circled by fencerows of trees that are perfect for funneling deer to our open spot. After hearing the tussle in the woods, we spotted two does on the east side running to beat Speed Racer. They were followed by a small four-point chasing them, and his partner—that looked to be about 14 inches across and a six-point. They were trying to keep up with the NASCAR does. We never had a chance at a shot since their path included two pecan trees at the farthest point between us and them. They were really hauling it, and Ross said that was cool. I told him they might circle back, so get ready. Ross moved to my chair and I knelt down to his left. He readied the rifle and I kept watch with binoculars. After about 10 minutes, we spotted some different deer entering the pasture. A really big doe was casually walking across from behind the pecan trees. I told Ross there was a buck following her. He said, “I see him! Can I shoot him?” I said yes, but to let the buck follow the doe clear of the trees, and when it stopped at the spot she was, then he could shoot. I reminded him to “breath and squeeze” when he took the shot. The buck was not going to stop where we
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PHOTO COURTESY OF ADRIAN O’HANLON, JR.
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needed for a good shot. I told Ross to wait until I stopped the buck. I leaned forward and made a deer “bleat” calling sound. The buck kept walking, following the doe. Again I “mawed” even louder. The buck stopped. Ross took off the safety, then, to my amazement, “breathed and squeezed.” Boom! The buck was headed north to our right. It whirled to face us and took about four steps, whirled again to its left, and dropped with legs kicked up and expired right there. Ross’ first words were, “I can’t believe it! The rifle hardly kicked at all! I got a buck!” The time was 8:15 a.m. We were both very excited to say the least. After giving congratulatory hugs and knuckle bumps, Ross asked, “Can we go get him?” I told him we needed to wait and for us to calm down.
by Adrian O’Hanlon, Jr., A TF&G Reader When we looked out again, the lovely sight of a white belly and antlers sticking up out of the brush looked like heaven. The big doe had come back, too! Ross said, “Dad! There’s another buck!” Looking through the branches of the pecan tree with binoculars, I saw a nice eight-pointer at the treeline. I racked the Remington 710 with another .243 cartridge to take the shot. I looked through the binoculars again to see the buck calmly turn and re-enter the woods. No shot for Dad today. I just enjoyed the moment of being with my youngest son to take his first buck deer at age 11. The vital statistics of Ross’ buck are: six points, 16-inch inside spread, 175 pound live weight, shot at 115 yards with a first-shot from a Remington model 710 chambered in .243, 100-grain Winchester ammunition. We looked out and wondered if the deer was still there. We had lost its figure in the pasture grass and brush. After glassing with binoculars, we found it still laying as we last saw it. After another 10 minutes, we left the elevated box blind to get our hands on it. A L M A N A C / T E X A S
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This deer did not suffer from ground shrinkage, but looked bigger as we approached. We gave each other another knuckle bump and began to take field photos. During the photo shoot, Ross asked, “Is my buck bigger than yours was last year?” It was, but I did not respond. The disposable camera worked okay, except that Dad kept cutting Ross’ head off in the frame. I could have sworn it looked good when I snapped the shutter. I also took some with my phone camera. Field dressing brought an unexpected biology lesson. Since Ross asked about the internal parts, I felt obliged as an agriculture teacher to share some education. The weather had been good to us this morning. Now that the buck was loaded in the truck, it began to drizzle and drop some sleet. We went back to camp with our trophy to change clothes for the trip home to the processor and taxidermist. The time traveling from Montague back to Grayson County was spent calling everyone in the family to tell the story. The person Ross was most anxious to call after his mom was Uncle Steve. He must have asked me a half-dozen times, “When can we call Uncle Steve?” Uncle Steve answered the phone with, “How big is he?” I handed the phone to Ross to tell his story. Now we talked more about our experience together and how Ross would have the deer processed. Our next stop would be to the taxidermist for Ross to decide the style of his mount. I hope others can share these kinds of moments in the outdoors with their children, and enjoy the freedom that God-fearing Americans have in this great country. &
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