It's been a while ago now, since I was allowed to go deer hunting with my Dad, Grandfather, and two Uncles. This was a real big deal for me, and I got to miss one day of school in the bargain, buck fever! I was 13 years old and already a pretty fair small game hunter and plinker. I got to use my Grandfather's Winchester Model 94 with open sights, which he bought in the 1940's, I believe. Like many of us, this was my first true introduction into manhood. We hunted the Texas Hill Country, near New Braunsfel, TX. Lots of whitetails, but, very small deer. You had to go down deep into South Texas for the really big deer near Freer, TX. I hunted down there many years later and always timed my hunts with the Freer Rattle Snake Roundup. I'm wondering......As luck would have it, my stand faced a small opening in the Cedars and a young doe stepped out about 40--50 yards away. Really an easy shot, and I was able to make a one shot kill. BTW, I did have a doe tag. This was my first kill of something larger than a squirrel or rabbit. Regardless, I was a proud lad. I pulled her over to the nearest tree, used a small pulley to hoist her up, and began to clean. Well, I received lots of praise from my elders and also received my shot of Jack Daniels in honor of my bloody hands. A true right of passage! I'm sure many of you have similar stories, and I would love to hear them.
It’s been about 25 years ago but it might as well have happened yesterday. My buddy has a small ranch in Uvalde Texas and he bowhunts only. He invited me but he said bow hunting only. So I bought myself a bow. First hunt deer hunt ever. So he takes me to a ground blind and the hunt begins. About 20 minutes after he left an 8 pointer comes down the trail. I pull back and had a perfect broadside shot. Squeezed the release and time stood still. I watched the arrow in slow motion as it left the bow, scraped a small branch and entered the buck dead in the ass. Time caught up. I gave him 30 minutes like the hunting shows say to do and start tracking. First 50 yards of no blood. I could track him because he was dragging his back leg. 100 yards, 200 yards no deer. Down into the small ravine, the only one around, I descended. Once at the bottom I saw him laying there. He saw me and tried to get up. I quickly jumped on him and grabbed my knife and cut his throat. Seemed like forever wrestling with this buck trying my damnedest not to let him get up and run, while getting sprayed with blood. He passed and I sat up and took more than a few deep breaths. Now the delima was getting this buck back up to the top of the ravine. Took me about 30 minutes dragging him up a foot at a time. As dumb as I was as a newbie hunter, this was when I decided to gut him to lighten him up instead of at the bottom. Drag him to the nearest sendero and waited for my buddy. 2 hours later he walks up and sees me sleeping with my head on the deer, both of us covered, I mean covered, in blood. He freaks a little bit but then laughs his ass off as I tell him what happened. We get the deer back to camp to clean it but I can’t find my knife. He can’t find his knife. I ended up walking back to the bottom of the ravine, found my knife and walked back. I have never been so tired after I cleaned that deer.
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