This includes my first two deer taken from ground level as fast as I could reload the gun.
Bet that was a thrill?
It was pretty cool. I set up a friend in the best spot I could find for him to shoot his first Maryland deer. I then wandered off for a couple hundred yards and set up with my back to a large red oak 30 yards from a white oak that was dropping. I had been there maybe 30 minutes when I heard deer moving quickly in my direction. A doe popped out from my left and continued to run right at me. Each time she had cover between us I moved to get the shot. She cleard the last small tree about ten feet infront of me. I shot her just infront of the near, her right, shoulder. She piled up and slid within 3 feet of my boots. I heard the second deer veer off about the same place the first deer appeared moving left to right in front of me. I took out the bleat call and held it in my lips after giving it one small call. Meanwhile I took off the cap from the nipple and poured the quickloader into the barrel. Hit the bleat call one more time as I started the ball. The deer started moving more toward me but still going from left to right. I slid the ball home, capped the nipple, and cocked the hammer as I blew the next bleat to cover the noise. The chest of the deer came into an opening about 20 yards infront of me and stopped. I centered the front post and eased the trigger back. The eight point made it, maybe 40 yards before he collapsed.
The gun was my old faithful .50 T.C. Kit sidelock. PRB over 70 grains FFFG. My buddy did not see anything and accused me of holding out on him. I told him it must be the South Carolina swamp mud between his toes that spooked them all away
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