There was no manure spread, no farming done, no wood cut, no islands, or canoes used, no sumacs harmed, no magazine covers made and no bigass horns hereabouts. Late Plains rifle started here today. Seen a couple does this morning while feeding the steers. They was headed towards the north place, on my way back to the barn. I spooked a few out of the creek bend below a bluff last week on the north place, so gathered up my stuff and took off thattaway, thinking that's about where they'd be. Peaked over the top of the bluff and didn't glass anything down there. I backed out and went a few hundred yards further before I peeked over again. Still nothing. So I made the mistake of standing up and skylining myself. A little forky was bedded below me, looking towards the hill. When he seen me he stood up, so I crouched down behind some yucca. He didn't booger, so I figgered there were more I couldn't see. Sure enuff there was a bigger one (not Wisconsin sized,) bedded there, facing the bottom. He got nervous when his little buddy made me, and stood up and turned broadside to look back up the hill. When I crouched down, i loaded, flipped my covers, and dropped down on a set of sticks. I could only see a portion of his ribs between the trees, so popped him there. I was able to see him crash after maybe a 70 yard run. I went back to the truck and drove around the fringe of the trees till I was close. Let the dogs out and circled over to where I shot him. Finn hit the blood trail first, but the pup passed him and was first to the deer. It wasn't much of a test, but I was proud of how she worked....

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