It was 1965. I was eight-years old, dreaming of shooting great big bucks, but not ready for what was about to happen.
Daddy had taken me "still" hunting in the Ryals Camp Bend, a bulge in the back swamp full of tupelo trees and black water slews. It was a great place to kill a deer. We didn't have fancy tree-climbing stands back then, we would just lean against on an old log near a deer path and wait. Actually, this was one of the few times I remember Daddy hunting without his hounds.
The sun was just coming up, the morning was cold. I was wearing a thick corduroy jacket; we didn't have expensive Cabela's camouflaged clothing back then. The ground was muddy, too, not sloppy mud, but more like gumbo mud. Your boots wouldn't get stuck in the mud as long as you didn't stand in one place very long. Daddy had put me in a good spot, then moved about 100 yards further down the swamp. I still remember leaning against that log. I was using an old bolt action, single-barrel .410 shotgun.
That .410 shotgun was special, not for sentimental value, but because you needed to be a weight lifter to pull the hammer back, and you had to use a screw driver to remove the shell. Daddy said someone had fired an old shell in the gun and blew out part of the ejection pin. Anyway, the gun was as long as I was tall and hard to keep steady. I don't know where the gun came from or went to, but it was a challenge to use while trying to shoot your first deer.
Kids get lucky in the woods, maybe because they're scared and afraid to move, maybe because they don't have that manly smell yet. All I know is that a deer will travel a long way to find a kid in the woods. That's what happened to me.
Buck fever is a phenomenon that happens to most hunters during their first encounter with a deer. I think it must be the anticipation and adrenaline rush that overcomes the hunter. Breathing becomes difficult. Your heart rate cranks up about three times faster than normal. Your knees start to shake. Your eyes mist up. You can usually get the gun to your shoulder, but then your fingers turn to jello. You can see the deer standing there, but you can't think.
The sun was just coming up, the morning was cold. I was wearing a thick corduroy jacket; we didn't have expensive Cabela's camouflaged clothing back then. The ground was muddy, too, not sloppy mud, but more like gumbo mud. Your boots wouldn't get stuck in the mud as long as you didn't stand in one place very long. Daddy had put me in a good spot, then moved about 100 yards further down the swamp. I still remember leaning against that log. I was using an old bolt action, single-barrel .410 shotgun.
That .410 shotgun was special, not for sentimental value, but because you needed to be a weight lifter to pull the hammer back, and you had to use a screw driver to remove the shell. Daddy said someone had fired an old shell in the gun and blew out part of the ejection pin. Anyway, the gun was as long as I was tall and hard to keep steady. I don't know where the gun came from or went to, but it was a challenge to use while trying to shoot your first deer.
First Buck
Kids get lucky in the woods, maybe because they're scared and afraid to move, maybe because they don't have that manly smell yet. All I know is that a deer will travel a long way to find a kid in the woods. That's what happened to me.
I remember leaning against that log, and for some reason, looked back over my shoulder. There he stood, a huge buck, about 15 steps away. Daddy later said he was a spike. The buck was standing in the mud, staring straight at me, his neck stretched out, his head low to the ground. I have no idea how he got that close without me seeming him. I'm sure he was as startled as I was. I was able to get the .410 to my shoulder without much trouble. At that point I still had control of my senses and body functions, but that didn't last long.
Buck Fever
Buck fever is a phenomenon that happens to most hunters during their first encounter with a deer. I think it must be the anticipation and adrenaline rush that overcomes the hunter. Breathing becomes difficult. Your heart rate cranks up about three times faster than normal. Your knees start to shake. Your eyes mist up. You can usually get the gun to your shoulder, but then your fingers turn to jello. You can see the deer standing there, but you can't think.
Finally, the deer realizes you're up to no-good and bolts. Usually with a loud snort, the deer ducks and wheels away at the same time, white tail flashing high. As you see the deer running away, panic sets in. Hunters handle this panic in different ways. Some drop their guns and just stand there, others start shooting wildly, I cried.
Daddy said he remembered hearing me yell, "Daddy, Daddy." He could see the buck running away, but couldn't get a clear shot. Apparently I was crying like a baby when he got to me, saying something about not being able to pull the hammer back. I don't recall anything else about that hunt, but I've never forgotten my first buck fever.
Daddy said he remembered hearing me yell, "Daddy, Daddy." He could see the buck running away, but couldn't get a clear shot. Apparently I was crying like a baby when he got to me, saying something about not being able to pull the hammer back. I don't recall anything else about that hunt, but I've never forgotten my first buck fever.
I still occasionally get a little buck fever, but I've stopped crying.
Mike's Hunting Tip - Keep a big tree between you and a young hunter. You never know which way he might decide to shoot.
PS - All of my stories are true, mostly true or maybe just made up!
Mike's Hunting Tip - Keep a big tree between you and a young hunter. You never know which way he might decide to shoot.
PS - All of my stories are true, mostly true or maybe just made up!
1 comment:
I could visualize you and Bennie standing not-too-far apart, waiting on those deer. What sweet memories. — Aunt Susan(back then)
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