Funnier yet, as I carried him out on the trail, he musta been dripping on the underbrush. Even though I thought I had keep him to the side, when my buddies picked me up in the full size Bronco and flipped on the heat, they almost made me sit on the roof rack for all the stench I was emitting. I couldn't tell at the time back in the stand, as the area around the bait was so fouled up from the bastard anyway. The following year you could still make out a slight aroma at the discharge site.
