Deer Huntin Stories
Just joined the site so I still have the "Scub Buck" label. Though I spend most of my time previewing the bowhunting forum I also peek at the other forums. The campfire forum desription includes hunting stories, but I haven't seen any recent posting of stories. I've been the recipient of some great stories from a special hunting buddy. I'll try to share what he has shared with me.:coffee:
Subject: The" Damn Boy deer"--sort of comical story about my brother and I
Early in my hunting career I would travel northern Marion/Monongalia county hunting with my brother Bob. He introduced me to hunting at the early age of 9. Bob learned everything he knew about whitetail deer through trial and error since no one else in the family hunted. He apparently enjoyed hunting more than going to school so he dropped out to become a full time hunter or so the plan was. Bob was the first man in my community to harvest a whitetail buck. He evidently spotted it while skipping school and went home to swipe my grandpa’s old 32 Winchester special. The young buck had so many holes in him it looked like a sieve. I’ll never forget the crowd of people that gathered at our house to admire that tiny little 8 pointer. To a 9 year old boy he was as big as a moose. I believe that single episode is what hooked me onto hunting. From then on my brother was Daniel Boone.
He would religiously take me hunting every weekend or I would pester him until he would. My parents would always allow me take off the first week of gun season to hunt with Bob. Over the years Bob and I would share our hunting experiences and continue to learn. The deer population seem to explode in the late 1970’s. Bag limits were liberal. Many deer fell to Bob and I. As the years progressed I became more interested in pursuing larger deer and Bob seemed content to shoot the first legal buck.
I was about 13 years old and Bob took me to a spot called Gum Springs which is located off 119/Grafton Road. Gum Springs has one of the largest tracts of road less land in northern W.VA. As always, Bob would give me instruction on exactly what to do. He would always end the conversation by saying “ whatever you do boooooy don’t shoot no damn doe”. Back then it was bucks only. Bob sent me down a logging road and told me where to set. I hadn’t gone far when I heard deer running in the brush beside me. I looked over and saw three deer busting through the laurel to my left. I thought that one of the deer had antlers so I kicked off the safety and followed them through the brush the best I could. They disappeared into a laurel choked streambed and reappeared about 150 yards from my position up on the opposite ridge. I again thought one of the deer had a rack so I was planning on shooting it when I heard my brother Bob screaming from the hill behind me. He was saying “ DAMN BOY WHATEVER YOU DO DON’T SHOOT THOSE DEER, THEIR ALL DOE “. He must have jumped the deer and watched me aiming at them and was trying to keep me from killing a doe illegally. He repeated this statement several times at the top of his voice just to be sure I heard it. I wasn’t convinced that they were all doe
The one deer that I thought had antlers was barely visible in the laurel. I thought I could make out two little tiny points sticking up. I decided to take the chance of being scalded from Bob. The rifle cracked and the deer dropped dead in it’s tracks. Bob came storming off the hill saying something like “ damn booooy I told you not to be shoot-n no damn doe”. I responded by saying I think it has a rack. He assured me that he had the perfect view and that I just killed a doe. Doubt and fear began to run through my young brain. I didn’t want to disappoint my brother or break any laws. So I was afraid!! We approached the deer and sure enough it was lying out on the hillside and no rack was visible. My heart sank and my ears hurt because Bob kept saying over and over “ see booooy I told you that was a damn doe-why’d you shoot it?”. I apologized and said I thought it was a buck. I could have swore it was a buck. The closer we got to the deer I could tell that its’ head was back under its’ chest and it was in a small sinkhole. I reached down a pulled the deer backwards by its hind feet to get it out of the sinkhole. Then all I could hear was “ DAMN BOY THAT’S THE BIGGEST BUCK I EVER SAW!”. He must have said it three or four times. I think I made him proud that day.
Good story malncoff.
This one I posted back in November, hope nobody minds if I repost it, it true I promise. :)
Here's one, ya’ll ain’t gonna believe this.
My brother and I were hunting together on the last day of the season down off the side of Jump off mountain, it was so steep it would kill us to get down there and when we killed a deer it really killed us to get one out.
When we got down to the level we wanted to hunt we split up and spread out. It's hard to explain but the mountain would kind of stair step down with these level benches and you would go from bench to bench following the drainage valleys.
Anyway the story is brother shot a huge 10 point and it just dropped on the spot. When he got down to it he let out a big rebel yell and I knew by the yell that it was not just any buck but a big buck that he had killed. After he put his kill tag on the antler he was sitting there admiring it when noticed he didn't see any blood or a bullet hole, there was just a big notch out of one of the antlers.
Well he didn't care dead was dead and that was his trophy. He pulled out his skinning knife, rolled the buck over to start to gut it when his trophy kicked him in the leg got up and run my way.
I'm walking towards brother when I see this huge 10 point running my direction. It saw me first and turned and went down the mountain to the next level. The next thing I see is brother running along behind it with riffle in one hand and skinning knife in the other hollering "Which way did it go?”
I just pointed down the mountain and at that moment we hear, bam, bam, bam, WhooooHooo!
Brother didn't even slow down, he just ran off the side mountain. He got to the buck about the same time the other hunter did and hollers "that's my buck". The other guy says "the heck it is I just shot it"
Brother says "that may be but look it's got my tag on the antler” Now you can only imagine the look on this guys face. After a moment of silence the other guy said. "Anyone who can tag one on the run like that deserves the deer"
Apparently brothers shot hit the buck’s antler and knocked him out cold. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I love it, just love it. Gotta write up my hammer story and share it.
Stories are great! It's probably what we remember the most.
That what just a spammer Southern Man but it is gone now.
Short true story: One of our camp hunters came into camp stating he had just shot a nice 6 pt buck. He claims he jumped the buck in tall grass and made a neck shot at the running away buck. When we arrived at the buck I looked down and noticed he was missing both rear legs up past his knees. Now the main road was only about 50 yds from where the buck was laying so I had to ask "you said he was running away when you shot him right"? He said yes and of course I said on what! I named that buck the wheelchair buck. Oviously, he had been hit the night before by a car but to claim he was running away..........!
I bet it wasn't a smoothe, mechanical, Graceful Run. :lol: :lol:
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