I remember my first deer hunt

I was 20 feet up a tree and about 20 feet back from a double rutted trail made by a pickup that drove through the woods about twice a month.

I dangled my feet for hours from that perch (literally, sort of a diving platform about a foot wide, nailed to the tree).

Nothing moved.

Well no deer anyway. Squirrels and mockingbirds dominated the underbrush, and at first, I jumped at every noise they made. Eventually, I got pretty good at predicting their antics and settled back to wait for the bigger prize I sought.

Hours later, long after my coffee thermos was empty and just at that point between dusk and dark, I heard a huge rustle about 50 yards down the path. No chance this was a squirrel.

I cut my eyes in the direction of the noise, careful not to move my head and spotted a lonesome doe wandering and browsing aimlessly (since that time, I've learned that there is no such thing as a lonesome doe, and what I saw was the stupid doe that moves out in front of the smarter ones, way out in front of the buck).

There was just enough light to be legal, so I trained my Ruger to make out her full form though the scope. My heart pounded, my hands began to dampen, and as my rifle kicked into my shoulder, I saw her leap into the air and execute a 360 degree flip toward the side of the road.

I lost sight of the deer as I scrambled down from the tree shaking with excitement, so I ran over to where the doe was when I fired.

She was not there.

I tortured myself trying to figure out how in the world I missed a shot from that short distance, and I prayed I had not just injured the animal.

As I whispered the "Amen," I found her about 30 feet off the road in a clump of knee-high bushes. She had flipped and tried to run, but the shot was clean and quick and she went down without a struggle.

About that time, my transportation arrived and we returned to the barnyard for the cleaning ritual.

Wally insisted I keep the meat (even though it was his father-in-law's farm), but did accept as a gratuity, something that I had not hear of up to that point--the back strap.

We all enjoyed it for dinner that night.

©2007 David R. Childress. All Rights Reserved.