Home Forums Hunting & Shooting General Big Game Your best stalks - lets spin some yarn

The bear story reminds me of a hunt I once made.

I followed elk tracks into a fir thicket, moving just as slow as I could. I got right in the middle of a small bunch of ten or so and they figured out something wasn't quite right.
One by one they started to stand up and I would throw the scope on them. I discounted each cow elk and moved on to the next as they presented themselves, when I notice an elk still in it's bed.
My scope revealed a nice branch bull with his chin on the ground, looking right at me. I hammered him with a 250 gr Nosler from my old pre 64 .338...... and he didn't bat an eye!
All the girls left in a cloud of sticks and snow, but the 4x4 bull just lay there looking at me.
He'd been gut shot the day before and had died in his bed with his rack leaning against a tree trunk!
I was a bit embarrassed to report the shooting to my friends, who later that night toasted me with "He always gets his elk - "dead or alive"!!!

Thank you for the stories, all.

Keep them coming.

Special mentions so far:
Kique, Bowhunting Coues deer. Kudos.
Str, walking down and cavetaking ml. Kudos.

I was bow hunting in the Missouri Breaks a few years back when I spotted a 340ish 6x6 and his harem of cows roughly a mile off in a parallel draw. Being it was in the Missouri Breaks I knew I needed to hot foot it to them before 5 other guys busted in there. When I finally got to the ridge above the draw the elk were in I could see the herd feeding in the open about 150 yds away. I decided the best thing to do would be to come at them from down the ridge about a hundred yards as the cover was better and I would have pine needles to walk on as opposed to the shale where I was at. So, I started easing my way down the back side of the ridge to the point were I would crest it and make my way into the draw. About 40 yds into my sneak I heard a noise to the front. I dropped to a knee trying to make out what had made the noise when a 275" 6x6 satellite bull rounded the juniper 10 feet in front of me on the game trail I had been sneaking along. He knew something wasn't quite right but couldn't smell me. He decided to take a step forward... Now I was starting to wonder just who was going to get the short end of the stick in this encounter. He turned to look back the way he had come and I lost all nerve and drew on him. That was all it took for the whole area to explode in panicking elk. No shot for me, but it was fun to be almost nose to nose with a bull.

Several years ago a buddy of mine shot a bull in some thick jackfirs, and went in after it. He ended up face to face with it at about 4 feet, and turned around and RAN out of there. He says those things are HUGE when you're that close to them!

My favorite stalk involved a mountain goat about 4 or 5 years ago. In my section of B.C. if you get a limited entry tag it is good from August 1 - February 28 I did not get a goat in the fall so in the last two weeks of February I went out the last two Saturdays of the month. That year was a light snow year (unlike the last 3 winters) so we hiked into my area using headlamps and were spotting as it got light. We hiked up an old logging road and spotted a few goats but they were either inaccesable or a nanny with a kid. In the early afternoon we finally saw a billy real low on the mountain at the bottom of a cliff so I put on a stalk hoping to shoot from a clearing below the bluff but the goat was hidden by some timber so I started up through the timber after it. I got into the bottom of the bluff and it was steep and slippery with the snow. I got to a place where I could see everything but the ledge 20 feet above me I figured if he didn't take off when we were stalking he had to be there. Then I made a mistake I figured I would make a bit of noise and the billy would stand up and then I would shoot him. It was actually a pretty good plan except one thing I failed to take into account, the law of gravity. I clapped my hands loudly and then I heard some noise and a small rock tumbled down to me I was balancing on a small snow coved ledge when the goat walked by 20 feet above me. Then I realized if I drop him he is going to take me with him so I didn't shoot. I had a good 5 seconds to get a shot before he went into the timber (he never even took a look at me as he went by) but I was hooped I actually got to close to him. Had I had a tree to grab on to I would have cracked him but I didn't so he walked. The whole episode was a blast though and I am happy with the memory of the stalk and him walking by me at such a close range.

True story:
I once put a put a 50-yard stalk on a grizzled old woodchuck and was able to CLUB him with a stick!! He did not survive.
It was an old chuck, gray hair and well past his prime and probably on his last leg.
I just wonder why he didn't see me and didn't run for his hole??

Thanks for the stories all.

Lets keep them coming.

Patagonia, Followed a Red Stag and His "roar" from a bamboo bottom up the mountain side into open hardwoods for a couple hours. Came to a small knoll and the guide started crawling on all fours, so I did the same,glanced over the top and there He was, bedded down with the "Hind" feeding around, about 100 yds. out. Waited for Him to stand up, then I sent a 180 gr. partition thru His ribs. SCI # 23. The next day, the Guide told Me that it wasn't the same Stag that We were following. Don't know how He knew that, but it was too late to put Him back.

And why would you have wanted to, anyway? Congratiolations.

I wrote this about ten years ago. Reading it again brought back good memories.

A FEW PRECIOUS HOURS
By KC Keen

We first saw them about a mile east of the county road, in the bottom of a small, dry ravine called Apache Creek. We didn�t have permission to hunt on that private property but I had a good idea where the main house was, and the colorful old owner of the ranch gave the O.K. Now we were back and they were still there; a dozen or more pronghorns, and one large buck, casually grazing in the golden glow of late afternoon light.

Antelope are very territorial and a herd will spend its� entire life within an area only a few miles in diameter and they can usually be found in the same place year after year. The alpha female leads the herd and all the other animals are her daughters and grand children. A large buck attaches itself to a herd every October. There�s usually one or more satellite bucks pestering the herd from a distance. These young bucks with amorous intentions will be chased away by the alpha male.

Bryce and I have been as close as a father and son can be, but as he has matured it seems like there is always something preventing us from spending time together. He had gotten his antelope early in the morning. I had blown Bryce�s first stalk, on the Rush Creek Herd, and we decided to try our luck on the Junk Yard Herd, which lives just a mile or so east. We drove across the open prairie and spotted the herd on the other side of an old windrow. We tried a two-pronged stalk, hoping to catch them between us but they got wind of us and took off, though not in a hurry. So we followed slowly. They stopped about two hundred yards on the other side of the junkyard and watched us. We hoped that if we could get the truck to the junkyard without them high tailing it, then we might be able to get lost in the small jungle of abandoned vehicles and farm implements. It worked and Bryce hit his buck.

We had driven around for the rest of the day and had time to talk and joke. The Windmill Herd was firmly planted in the middle of two miles of flat, open country surrounded by about a dozen little orange dots, waiting for them to make a break for it. We scouted new territory until lunch time; talked about college and made plans for the future. The Snagglehorn Herd wouldn�t stay in one place long enough to make a stalk and we gave up after several hours of following them. That�s when we decided to ask permission to hunt the Apache Creek Herd.

Bryce stopped the truck by a gate that was due west of the herd and I started the stalk with the sun to my back. I was masked from the herd by some low rolling hills so could walk within about a quarter of a mile without them seeing me.

The first animal that I saw was a young buck. He was watching from a distance and had already spotted me. I knew that he was more interested in watching the herd than he was in me. So if I didn�t make any provocative movements I could continue my stalk in full view of him. I crouched into a duck walk and slowly continued forward cresting the gentle rise behind which I knew the herd was grazing.

As I came near the top, I saw the alpha doe looking right at me and I froze in that uncomfortable position. She�s the one that you have to be most careful of, because her progeny look to her for leadership. She was standing a ways off from the herd watching for danger. We stared into each other�s eyes for what seemed like an eternity and my legs began to ache. Finally she became satisfied that the object she was looking at was not a threat and she looked away.

I laid down and started a low crawl with my rifle cradled in my arms. I wish I had been wearing pads on my knees and elbows because there was lots of cactus. Three more times I stared into the eyes of the alpha doe and three more times she forgot what she was looking at. Finally I got far enough over the rise that I could see the other animals. The buck was closest to me and through my scope, I could just see his head and back above the grass. He was looking directly at me. I was prepared to fire from the prone position and had my finger on the trigger but the grass was high enough to block my bullet trajectory, if I tried to shoot him in the heart. I aimed at the head but delayed. He has a magnificent set of horns, worth having mounted. It would be a shame to ruin that trophy. I waited longer and they lost interest in that odd thing on the hill above them.

I moved like the hands of a clock. Put myself into a sitting position, but still wasn�t quite far enough over the rise to get a clean heart shot. They looked again and again I froze and waited. I scooted forward steadied my rifle and prepared for the kill. Then the whole herd casually strolled into full view and resumed grazing. The buck was facing away from me and I aimed at the top of his back. But he moved and gave me a perfect broadside. The bullet shattered his shoulder blade and the shrapnel disintegrated his heart. He jumped with his hind legs and was dead when he hit the ground.

Bryce drove the truck up when he heard the shot and helped me put it in the back. He�s has been away at college and we�ve had even less time together. So these few precious hours were priceless and we both had nice trophies to remember it by.

cmg - I'm not sure how the European scoring system works, but That stag was scored 224 CIC.

First off, I had my chevy 4x4 stolen three days before my hunt.
Fortunatley, a good friend came through and loaned me his 4x4

After the ten hour drive to central Arizona to the hunting area, I settle in and find a good looking area.
That evening, I'm kept awake by the constant bugling of rutting bull elk.
morning breaks with drizzle and dark skies.
I hear a deep throated bugle erupt about a 1/4 mile away and I stealthily make my way to the area where I last heard the lovesick bull.
Suddenly I see two cows and am pinned down, I dont move a muscle and tuck in behind a tree.
Whithin minutes, the biggest gnarliest bull steps out.
On one side his rack is a giant six point (like 380"!) with an enormous whale tail of a fifth and sith point.
The other side is sort of deformed with four gnarly points on it.
My heart was about to explode as he let out another roar!
I tried real hard for twenty munites to coax him closer, but the bull stayed out of bow range at 157 yards.
As the elk drifted away, I tried to circle around and cut them off, but I was unsuccesful in my ambush.
What a rush.
After I gather my composure, I make another hike and see a herd of elk moving through the timber several hundred yards away, but they never slowed down and apparently left the area.
I never got to see if there was any bulls in the herd.

Day 2...
The weather clears up and I awake to a very clear morning, no bugles were heard during the night.
I roll out at first light and listen for bugles... Seems the elk have shut up.
My hunt was the second archery hunt in this unit and it appeared the hunting pressure was starting to show, also there was a complete full moon overhead last night.
I make a morning hunt and up till about 8am, I see or hear no elk.
I get back to the pickup, fix breakfast and drive about one mile west.
I grab my bow and head off into the timber to see if I can make something happen.
I head downhill about half a mile when something catches my eye in the clearing below.
I raise my Swarovski's and am surprised to see a cow elk laying in the shade.
I need to get much closer to check things out.
Getting closer meant belly crawling Rambo style for about 400 yards to a very small rock pile.
All the way, I just know I'm going to get busted in the open, but the breeze was steadily blowing in my face.
When I reach the rocks, I put on my head net, and peek up over the rocks and glass for more elk.
I am now about 160 yards from the herd.
I find about eight animals, but no bull.
I continue to wait at my location, hoping that a bull stands up and shows himself.
Four hours go by and still no bull!
Finally a large cow stands up and moves to my right and goes out of sight over a slight knoll.
Suddenly, a nice six point bull stands up out of nowhere and follows the cow.
I watch excitedly as he too walks out of sight.
I decide to go for broke and belly crawl the final hundred yards while the two elk are out of sight.
I make it to a big burnt pine tree and slowly stand up.
I glass back at the cows to make sure none are on to me.
Everything looks cool, they are all still dozing and the wind has not shifted.
I knock my Gold Tip arrow and hope for the best.
A couple minutes later here comes the big cow, followed by the six point bull.
Crunch Time...
I let the cow walk past and slowly raise my rangefinder while trying to be part of the tree.
The bull is 80 yards out but still coming...
My heart races as he hesitates, and comes broadside.
62 yards.
I slowly come to full draw with my Bowtech Allegiance line up my 60 yard pin behind his shoulder and let the arrow fly...
SHOCK AND HORROR...
My bowstring makes contact with the left sleve of my jacket and the arrow is deflected and completley misses the bull.
PANIC!!
The bull is startled and takes ten steps to his left.
I fumble and manage to knock another arrow.
His head is shielded from my line of sight, but his vitals are exposed.
I quickly range him again...59 yards.
Again, with my heart about to explode, I am at full draw.
I put the bottom pin on my Spot Hogg behind his shoulder and squeeze off my release.
I watch in disbelief as the fletchings bury into his ribcage right behind his elbow, the arrow completley passing through his rib cage.

Adrenaline rushes over my entire body.
I am jacked to the max.
I suddenly feel ill and uncontrollably puke my guts out.

COMPLETE ADRENALINE OVERDOSE!

I look back and see that the cows know something is not right, but they are not spooked by all the commotion.
I try not to spook them as I don't want them to startle the bull and risk having him flee the scene.
I turn my focus to the bull which is showing signs of a vital hit.
He is coughing and getting weak in the knees.
I watch him do his death dance for nearly ten minutes.
I feel a slight sense of remorse as I watch the spirit of life leave this great beast.
The bull drops to his knees and slumps to the ground.
He is done.
I watch him through my binos, he looks to be expired.
I step out from behind the tree, the lead cow barks and the herd of cows freight train through the timber.
I move forward to claim my trophy.
Quite possibly the best stalk of my life.
While this bull is not a monster, he represnts a great hunt for me and a well thought out strategy that worked out perfectley.
I wouldn't have been able to be successful on this hunt without the generous outpouring from my friend Mike that loaned me his truck so I could make the trip.
This was a completley self guided solo trip that I did on a shoestring budget.
It turned out to be one of my most memorable ever.

Redrabbitt here at 24 was very helpful and generous in helping me put this hunt together.

I was a senior in high school and I had an antelope tag. I spotted a smaller buck about a mile away. Being 17, I didn't care much about size. I weaved through the rocks for a good half mile, then had to belly crawl through rattlesnake country for probably 300-400 yards (a guess). I got about 75 yards away because a small rise prevented me from seeing him while laying prone from further out. In hindsite, I probably could have knelt and took the shot from 200-300 yards away, but I was (am) too stubborn for that. I finally got to the point where I could see him clearly and had a textbook broadside shot in the clear. I touched my .338 (like I said, stubborn) off and he dropped like a stone. My first sucessful big game hunt alone. I proceded to spend the rest of the day trying to find someone to buy beer for me. I felt like I was on top of the world with my 9-10 inch buck.

Oh, where to start!?

All my sheep stalks have been fun! Two stand out.

On one day-hunt here on the Kenai Peninsula, I climbed for 2.5 hours from the valley floor, and set up to spot just below the cloud line. An hour later 3 rams came over the ridge.....across the valley, and working their way toward me! With a dozen other hunters below me- it was also opening weekend of moose season - and the sheep not yet in their view - I made it down to the trail in 22 minutes. Then 2.5 hours back up the other side.... when I broke brush line, there were three other pairs of hunters starting up after the sheep, which had come out onto the face of the ridge above. Two pairs turned back, the other pair stopped and watched... almost a year later I was on the trail when I bumped into a couple fellows who told me all about watching this guy shoot a ram off that cliff up there the year before, said ram repeatedly bouncing 10 to 15 feet in the air and sliding/rolling a quarter mile and loosing 1500 feet of elevation to come to rest 100 yards from the side-trail... It was a plus 300 yard shot, too! And I made it twice, 5 inches apart, holding a tad lower the second time, after the ram pulled itself up on only it's front legs following the first one - an obvious near-spine hit. (17 inch barreled .30-06, factory 165s which also took a 42 inch bull moose 4 days later at 80 yards while still-hunting).

That was an awful short hunting season, but a good eating one!

My first Dall sheep hunt I back-packed in solo 17 miles (Going back there this fall, God willing). Having spotted sheep (unknown sex, but all three were widely separated singles) on the ridge above me earlier on the way in from 3 miles away, up I went first thing in the morning, having read one must always stalk sheep from above. Got way back up on top nearly to the head of the canyon and spotted 11 rams leaving their beds, 2000 feet below, just above the creek bottom, 3/4 mile from camp... about 10 in the morning, just before the sun touched them... Lazy bastids!. The 3 inches of snow dropped overnight had pretty much melted off by that time - the rest of the trip would see blue-bird 75 degree daytime temps. I liked it!

No way to drop down on them, after they all spread out mid-day, so I watched them until evening, watching formy chance, and enjoying the heck out of watching the sheep. I got to see a half-dozen or so head-butting contests. Fun! It was the same two, every time. One or the other would stare at the other for several seconds, they'd square away, and BANG!. Both would wobble around for a couple seconds, then go back to grazing until the next time. ILMAO!

In late evening, they gathered together once again and went back up on their little bedding bench. I went back to my camp. I figured critters are habitual, so went right up the creek bed from below at first light.. and sure enough...

Next morn they fed in a bunch from their bedding area late in the morning, down into the creek bottom, and then around the hook behind a big talus slope.

When they went out of sight behind the talus slope, right down in the creek bottom, I broke into a dead run from a where I watched from behind a 10 foot high boulder a half-mile away, down creek. I stayed in the creek bottom, often right in the creek, to stay out of sight. (right here is where I learned screw what the "book" says is the "correct" way- you do whatever works in the situation- in this case, stalking from below!) There was one bad 300 yard stretch, where I was exposed to the sight of one bedded ram - the only one in sight, but he was facing away, and I when flopped down, I was behind a roughly 18 inch cube rock 50 yards away from where he was bedded on the far side bank of the creek. The other 10 were closer...out of sight down in the creek bottom between us, all bedded down (I assumed). The exposed ram was avery legal but tight full curl- in a 3/4 legal curl area/time, but my plan was of course to take the best of the bunch. At least I wanted to view as many options as possible before taking the best available one at the time. From the day before, with just binoculars, I knew at least half the rams were legal.

Every several minutes I'd pop my head over the rock to check to see if they were moving, but nearly going to sleep between times in the warm sunshine, laying on a soft moss bed. "Idyllic" comes to mind....

After an hour or so of this, I raised my head above the rock to see my ram about 20 feet away, staring at me- apparently he'd seen some movement and came to check it out. I instinctively ducked down again, and thought fast. The .243 was laying crossways in front of me, and I knew the jig was up! Thumbing the safety off, I rolled up onto my elbows and slapped the 4X scope on him just as he whirled away and dropped right out of sight. The tip of his horn passing in front of his eye in the scope picture confirmed his legality as he did so. As I jumped to my feet, he was just coming out of a the far side of a 20 foot deep depression, maybe 60 feet away (that was a big hole!). He stopped and turned broadside to look back, and I busted him through both lungs with a off-hand snap-shot.

Damn! There were white rams running everywhere! Two bolted right by my downed one. They gathered together about 150 yards up slope on the scree and watched me for the next hour as I was dressing out my kill. 5 of them were bigger than my kill, which was the least of the legal ones, including the two skull-bangers of yesterday, and one that came around considerably better than full curl- probably around 40 inches, maybe better....beautiful ram! And I got to watch all of them watching me from darned near point-blank range...

Man, I'm all excited just typing this- and that took place in 1974!

I've never regretted taking the one I did for an instant- that "small" ram damned near killed me getting him out- My pack weighed considerably more than my own 153 lbs at the time... One of the bigger ones would have killed me for sure. Besides, I've since evolved into a cull-killer, and proud of it! He was a good start. His head is on my wall downstairs- he went a mere 31.5 inches green - dried out now, he's less.

I have a favorite moose stalk, too. I busted an unidentified moose out of it's bed in heavy cover at about 20 yards. Kneeling down, I could see its legs from just above the knees down- but nothing else. A quick bull grunt had stopped it, some further sounds and leaf stripping convinced it I was another moose, and it eventually wandered off to the south. I gave it 5 minutes and carefully followed. It had gone in the direction of a replying bull-grunt anyway... Within 150 yards, I spied two cows feeding on a downed birch tree maybe 30 yards away, and froze. I soon discovered by sound at least 5 more feeding moose all around me. Earlier when playing with the original moose, I'd gotten a deep bull-grunt from down this-a-way, so the only thing to do now was stand and wait. Any sound or movement, and I'd likely be busted. I was right in the middle of the sucker's harem, after all.

30 minutes or so later, one of the cows wandered off out of sight, only to reappear several minutes later, walk back up to the crown of the downed birch, and resume feeding with the other cow. It took me several minutes to realize that this "returning" cow was a different color, and had funny white eyebrows to boot. The binoculars showed the "eyebrows" to be thumb-thick, 3 inch spikes - a legal bull! 3 seconds later, he was on the ground. 20 minutes later, as I was dressing the kill, our last-day-of-season take-out plane came in...tho it was several hours before we could get the bull dressed out, packed down to the lake, and loaded.

That's the biggest bodied spike/fork bull I've ever killed, too. Split 3 ways (my partner, my pilot friend, and myself) we each got 90 lbs of boneless cuts.

Have had a couple good ones.

First was when I was a kid, growing up on an Iowa farm. Was over at Granddad�s and was outside messing around. Saw a rabbit take off and run between two of the round Belen grain bins and disappear behind an upside-down wooden pallet. Though maybe there was a hole under it. I crept around one of the bins and spotted the rabbit laying on its side behind the pallet. Its feet were toward the pallet and it was literally quivering with fear. I was able to sneak up and grab it from behind.

The best big game stalk involved elk. We were hunting rolling sage country when, through the binoculars, I spotted a head skylined over the slope of a hill about a half mile to the south. When the head dropped back below the hill we started working our way that direction. When we got to the crest of the slope we found the elk bedded down on the top of a knoll below us. We worked our way closer, staying behind the slope of the hill and, when that was no longer possible, creeping through the sage on our hands and knees. We closed the gap by a couple hundred yards or more but the elk were still 600 yards away and below us. There was a shallow drainage between us so any attempt to get closer would expose us on the hillside. It was now about 11:30 in the morning.

We hid behind some sage at the edge of a drop-off, trying to figure out a way to get closer, as none of us were prepared for a 600-yard shot. We saw a number of good bulls in the herd but they were too far away to judge accurately with our pocket binoculars. As the day progressed the sun gave way to clouds, rain, sleet and snow in succession, then finally clear skies, but we still couldn�t figure a way to get closer without exposing ourselves and spooking the herd. At one point the elk got up and we thought they would move, but after a while they quieted down and bedded again. As dusk approached the elk started to get up and feed their way off the knoll in a direction that quartered away to our right. We backed away from the drop-off, again crawling on our hands and knees to stay below the sage tops, until we were safely behind the slope of the hill again. Once there we trotted along behind the slope, gradually getting closer to where we thought the elk were headed. We quickly ran out of slope for cover and had to bend down, then crawl on our hands and knees again. By doing so we closed the gap to about 450 yards. Dusk was upon us and the end of shooting light was rapidly approaching.

The sage in front of me was shorter now, not even knee high, and crawling on my hands and knees would leave me exposed. An inch or two of fresh snow covered the ground, hiding the barrel cactus that was everywhere. I decided the best approach would be to go on my back,, head first, pushing myself through the snow with my feet. Doing this I was able to cover another hundred yards. A 5x6 bull had bedded down behind a cow and was 350 yards out. I had been practicing at ranges out to 400 yards but didn�t have a shot due to the cow. As shooting light ran out both elk got up but the cow continued to block any shot at the bull. They started to walk off to my left and just as I decided a shot opportunity wouldn�t materialize the bull stopped, falling behind the cow and presenting a perfect broadside shot. A 160g Grand Slam from my 7mm Rem Mag dropped the bull in its tracks. It got back up and took a couple stumbling steps. Just as the trigger broke on a second shot the bull fell again, for the last time.

Five minutes more and legal shooting hours would have been over. From the time we first spotted elk to the shot was about 6-1/2 hours.

Great stalks/hunts/stories guys.

Thanks for taking time to post.

DJ

This is one of my favorites, not because it's such a great stalk, but for other (obvious...grin) reasons.

Posted it a few months back, will pare it down a bit here.

We had some friends over and the guys were itching to do a little dove hunting on opening day, so we headed out despite the fact that there weren't many birds around.

A friend and his dad, along with my boys and I, started out walking some fields, but it was pretty slow and my boys are 3 and 5, so I decided to head for a water hole and see if the boys could sit still long enough to get in a little shooting. My buddies were having enough action that they were enjoying themselves, so we headed up to the north end of the place and let them continue walking fields with a plan that they would end up at one tank and my boys and I would hunt the other.

The boys and I parked the pickup a good piece from the tank (pond to y'all non-Texans...grin), and headed up the draw behind the tank dam thinking we might jump some birds on the way in. The boys were tromping along behind me, bb-gun and toy shotgun in hand, ear-muffs firmly in place to keep them from being deaf like Daddy, and having a ball.

As we eased into the draw, I noticed a deer several hundred yards beyond the tank and heading in our direction - obviously coming to water. Nothing unusual, but a second look showed not one of our usual Hill Country whitetails, but a flash of white on the brisket and spots that I could begin to make out even from quite a distance - an axis deer!

My wheels began to turn as I remembered the free ranging axis that we had seen on 3 or 4 other occasions through the past 4 to 5 years. A few weeks earlier, my Dad and I had seen a little bunch that included 4 or 5 bucks and a few does, with one buck that looked like a real bruiser. We were moving horses at the time, and had neither the time nor the right rifle to do more than look, but we got a pretty good view of him - enough that I swapped my usual 223 coyote killer truck gun for my Remington Mountain Guide 243 stoked with 85 grain Barnes TSX's.

I had been keeping an eye peeled for these axis deer, but in years past they had never showed up to stay - always passing through not to be seen for weeks or months or even years later. Accordingly, I didn't much think I'd see them again, and hadn't thought too much about it other than questioning whether Dad and I should have stopped working and started hunting when we had the chance!

Well, my regrets at the opportunity lost turned quickly to hope at a new chance at this beautiful old buck, so I stopped the boys and we hustled back to the truck where I traded my 12 gauge for the Remington 243. This rifle loves 85 grain TSX's and was dialed in, but I had yet to take an animal with it. I hoped that was about to change.

We slipped down into the draw and began to approach the stock tank for the second time. I noted gratefully that the wind was perfect - in our face and quartering just a bit - and that the afternoon sun over my left shoulder was just about perfect as well. This stalk was taking shape, but I wondered if I could pull it off with my 3 year old and 5 year old hunting buddies. I didn't worry about it much, though, since I doubted the big boy was with the lone axis doe I had seen, anyway.

As we approached the tank, the boys had fallen behind me a bit, so I was able to crawl to a little cedar and peer through before they arrived. There was an axis deer at the water hole, but I saw no antlers. I eased back as the boys caught up, grateful for the dam which afforded such perfect cover for our approach. Their eyes were sparkling with excitement, and I cautioned them with hand motions to be quiet and stay low.

Motioning for them to crawl behind me, I circled west to get better cover and to line up the sun a little better behind us on the one deer I had seen. As I crawled back up and peered through a very thick cedar which screened us from the deer, I saw 4 or 5 animals at waters edge, with one buck in velvet with only small nubs showing looking right at me from about 50 yards. I froze, and a minute later, he moved up to drink. As he did, another buck appeared through the limbs which hid me. It was the big boy!

I couldn't believe his mass and body size, or the height of his antlers that seemed to tower three feet above his head. I didn't have long for buck fever to set in, because he had finished his drink and was leaving. What a kind providence of God that the timing was perfect, allowing us to approach undetected and arrive just as the animals were drinking. The low water of the tank due to the drought had required the little herd of axis to move low into the tank to get to water, which hid us perfectly as we approached. The hurricane in the gulf had a north wind blowing - almost unheard of for late summer in Texas. I really believed the Lord had blessed us in a special way to allow this experience and successful stalk with my young sons.

As the biggest buck turned away and started out of the tank and up the hill, I knew I was going to have to be quick to get on him. I stood as he passed behind a little more cover, and eased left a slow half step. I was still screened almost completely, but now I could take an off-hand shot over the brush if one became available. This opened up a good shooting lane in the direction he was headed. There was no possibility for a rest, but I hoped at 70 yards I wouldn't need it. I brought the rifle to my shoulder, the Kahles 3-9 set at its normal 6 power.

The sight picture jumped into focus as the big buck moved across open ground heading uphill to thick cedar, and I snicked the safety forward and slid the cross hair to his shoulder, confident the 85 grain TSX would break the near shoulder and reach vitals. I touched off the shot as I swung the rifle to match his walk, and heard the bullet whack him solidly in the shoulder. He half reared, and plunged up the hill and out of sight, taking the rest of the herd with him. I watched him as far as I could follow him, and felt confident when I saw through the brush that it appeared that the rest of the herd had stopped their run at less than 100 yards and begun to mill a bit. When they moved off, another buck was in the lead, and I didn't see the big boy.

I turned to my boys. My 5 year old exclaimed, "I think you got him, Daddy! I saw where he went!"

I told the boys that we needed to wait a bit and not push him, but that I thought we had made a good hit and had him. I had hardly finished the sentence when my phone rang - it was my Dad asking where we were hunting so he could come join us. Five minutes earlier, and the phone's ring would have blown the whole stalk. Not luck, in my opinion, but providential blessing in the timing, yet again.

We waited for Dad. When he arrived a few minutes later, we headed to the spot of the shot. A good blood trail was soon spotted as we headed toward the last place I had seen him, and we found him easily. I don't know a whole lot about axis deer, but I know this is a good one, especially for a free range buck that just showed up on the ranch where I was raised.







A couple of other funny and providential details we were talking about last night...

As we got to the tank dam, my youngest boy realized he had fallen a bit behind and might miss some of the action, so he came the last 30-40 yards at a 3 year old dead run - eyes on the ground and dove hunting ear muffs in place so that he couldn't hear if I had tried to call softly to slow him down. As he reached the bottom of the dam, I had spotted the deer and was edging back to move around to a shooting lane, and he looked up and spotted me motioning for him to slow down and be quiet. My 5 year old, seasoned hunter that he is, was creeping up and hoping little brother didn't blow out all the deer.

Well, the little guy saw me and immediately stopped and hunkered half way up the tank dam and began side-hilling around to follow me in a little duck walk - cutest thing you ever saw. Big brother was creeping up, and I turned back to trying to crawl around to where I could get a shot.

As I said above, I was able to ease around and get a shot as the big Axis was leaving. My oldest was ready, and watched the deer run and knew exactly where the big one was last we were able to see him, but his little brother was still hunkered on the fairly steep tank dam when I shot. The shot startled him a little, even though he had his hearing protection on. He was in a pretty good classic Texas hunker when I shot, and when he flinched a little at the shot, he just did a backward roll right over and rolled back down the tank dam. He came up grinning, never lost his grip on his toy pistol which he had swapped for his toy shotgun, and big brother and I about fell over laughing.

Speaking of his leaving his shotgun at the truck, that probably helped save the stalk as well. It's one of those that has batteries and makes noise when you cock it and a pretty loud sound when it shoots. Either would have blown our stalk, but his little pistol barely clicks any more.

Just one more thing that went perfect on a perfect day...

DJ

Now that's a great stalking story!

Wyoming, mule deer hunting....I had been perched on the west end of the mountain for about 3 hours,glassing a big bench that fell off into wooly canyons on both the north and south sides.After watching a huge-bodied buck feed about 400 yards below me(old buck, on the mend,rack downhill)I spotted another large buck on the south side of the bench make his way in my direction,and disappear in the head of a cedar choked draw.

As soon as he was out of sight I dropped off the mountain top and headed towrd a knob that would later put me about 50 yards from where he disappeared.From the time of day(late afternoon) I figured he would start up feeding again and I'd be in position for a shot.

I had no sooner reached the knob,dropped into a sit,when he walked up out of the draw at about 40 yards,tunred his head and looked at me with that "UH-OH" look,but it was too late,as I had him in the sights and killed him as he bunched to run..he's the second largest buck I have taken off that ranch and went a hair over 30".

All,

Just checked back after some time. Thank you very much for taking all the time for the great essays.