Early Season Whitetail

I sat in a lean-to deer stand that my Dad had previously affixed to a white oak tree waiting hopefully for a deer to venture out to feed.  The weather was pretty warm, and I was still tired from the night before, but comfortable in the padded seat.  It was still pretty dark when I saw three black figures quietly moving up the trail to my right. 

I assumed the dark figures were deer, but they could have been a pack of coyotes for all I could tell.  Later, once the sun was up I could tell it was three does.  They were feeding content to stay where they were, about thirty yards to my right.  I sat frozen with my gun up, but not quite in shooting position. 

The deer were wary as all deer are.  Two would feed quietly while one would keep her head up and on swivel, turning alert at any sound or movement.  Once, they looked startled and all retreated in synch, but only a few yards before resuming their feed again.  I’m not sure what startled the deer.  Perhaps they smelled me, or saw a bird dart, or a squirrel chirped.  Whatever it was I’m glad they stayed. 

My musceles were beginning to fatigue from the awkward position I was forced to hold.  My rifle was straight up and down, and my body was twisted to the north toward the deer.  I had to make a move soon or forget about the deer.  I inched my rifle to my shoulder, a .30/.30.  Finally, the scoped reached my eye, the stock touched my cheek, the shot looked good and I squeezed the trigger.  I shot at the middle sized doe. 

Like three scalded dogs the deer raced back the trail the same way they arrived.  I thought I had made a solid hit, and felt good about the shot.  Though the deer had taken off like a whip once I shot the deer didn’t flag as the other two does had.  Prior to pulling the trigger my sight picture had been good, and the crosshairs of my scope were settled nicely on her shoulder.  I didn’t feel as I had jerked the trigger either. 

After giving the deer a few minutes I climbed down my stand.  I walked to the area where the doe had been standing when I shot and began looking for blood.  I found none, so I slowly began walking in an everwidening circle inspecting the ground.  Still I found no blood.  I walked back down the trail, and still no blood.  I began to doubt my shot.  Maybe I had jerked the trigger, or my scope may have been off. 

The trail ran north and south about fifty yards before turning to the west and into thicker brush.   I walked the length of it, and found my doe dead as soon as the trail turned.  I had made a good shot.  I never did find any blood before getting to the deer. 

I was pleased to have a deer.  It was my first in two years.  I had left several does walk last season waiting on a big buck that never came.  My freezer was getting bare.  Luckily I was able to get one this year.