The last week's build up to this today's hunt was not ideal. "The Judge", my Tikka T3 9.3x62, seemed to be mucking about. I'd had 2 sessions at the range with it and come home disatisfied both times. Then the new Irish Setter Grizzly Stalkers from BassPro didn't turn up (my fault, not theirs) and I was stuck with the old boots which had leaked horribly during the last 2 hunts there. I was also concerned my game licence would not be processed in time and the weather had been pretty bad up to Friday evening. I was fairly convinced the Lord was telling me "Don't get your hopes up." After a bit of a wake up call I said some prayers, signed it all over to the Almighty on Friday night, packed my gear and hit the sack.
My good mate and guide, Drew, picked me up around 5:30am and we were out in the field before the sun was up. No sooner did we pull up but on the hill to our left we saw a herd of hinds and fawns. They weren't perturbed and were slowly grazing away from us so we stalked slowly up the hill. Unfortunately we spooked a young doe and then ran off down the other side and wheeled away to the right up the slopes toward the distant ridges. We weren't worried as another herd were grazing further up the slop. The place was crawling with deer. So we backtracked and made out way out across some plowed fields.
Half way across the second field we looked up the hill to our right and saw a third herd near the crest. They were all bucks and there was a huge one about 360m away. I knew my 9.3x62 wasn't up to a shot like that and Drew offered up his Sako 7mm-08 with Kahles Helia 2.5-10x42. He still, however, thought the range was a push for me. He asked me if I wanted to stalk closer so we could move up in the lee of the timber and I could get a closer shot at the big buck. I said I'd prefer to use his rifle if I was going to be shooting at around 200m and he said that was probably a good idea. So we crept as fast as we dared, crouching each time the buck stopped feeding and watched us, until we reached the timber along the fenceline. Drew advised me to aim high on the shoulder, and of the rifle's hair trigger, then sent me ahead.
At this point all of the guiding and advice goes out the window and I have to say that I felt completely amatuer and alone. I trusted that Drew's rifle could make the shot and that, given the right opportunity, I probably had it in me, but as I crouched and moved slowly up while trying not to spook whatever was on the hill that that it was a little academic. Two deer, big enough, but only spikers, loomed out of the lee of timber and I froze and put the rifle on the shooting sticks Drew had given me. Neither had the huge antlers Drew said he'd seen on the big buck. I almost shot.....then a third spiker, larger than the first 2 appeared and slowly grazed across.
I then got skittish, saw a safe broadside shot, squared up crosshairs and barely brushed the trigger. The shot was away and deer was down so fast I thought I'd missed but Drew was up behind me fast, all confirmation and congratulations. Apparently a text book shot. Not the big buck and apparently I could've waited but the "monkey was off my back" - my first deer was taken. The rest of the herd ran down the hill and wheeled away. So we wandered to the corner of the fence and looked up the hill.......to see the big buck and 2 of his lieutenants looking down at us! I had the 9.3mm back by now and struggled to put the magazine in but they spooked and wheeled away over the ridge.
Still, there was a spiker down on the hill and it was mine. So we climbed up and sure enough, there he was. First deer, smashed through the lungs. The Barnes 140gr TTSX running at 2840fps was definite. Here I am with the spiker and with Drew as well. It was 7:35am and I'd already achieved my main aim.
After a quick walk to see if the big buck was just over the rise (he wasn't.....he'd run) we returned and cut all the legs, the back straps and the eye fillets out of the spiker. Across the fields on the far slopes were the second herd I'd spoken of.
It was clear that our day was not over once the spiker had been dressed out. The place is lousy with deer and Drew had a plan. First he wanted me to take the mystery out of bagging a deer. Then he wanted to see me knock down another one with the 9.3x62 at close range in readiness for the sambar hunt in 10 days time.
So after dragging the legs and other meat downhill and hanging it up on a fence we headed across the flat into the timber on the other side in the hope of flushing out something I could hone my snapshooting on. As it happened none of the area we trekked through, and we really put on the pace and did not try to be quiet, had any deer. So we put our veils back on and began to hike up the ridge slowly and quietly as we could. Drew had me lead, my rifle ready to fire and his mag in but his chamber empty. Basically it was up to me. We happened on nothing but roos and then turned to cross over the ridge to reach the next gully.
As we moved down toward the grass below us a small deer moved in front of me and I raised the 9.3x62. It stopped to look at us and I placed the cross hairs on the shoulder and squeezed the shot away......if squeeze is the right word. I felt the scope hit my forehead and saw a deer shape dart away to the left. Great, so I'd gone and cut my forehead again AND missed which I waxed lyrical about. It didn't add up. The deer felt like it was only 25m away and I couldn't see anything on the ground. Blood was already running down my nose and into my moustache. Drew handed me a tissue and said if I was SURE I'd missed go and have a look.....but hold the tissue on my head. Another 15m further on down the hill a shape was lying on its side. I hadn't missed. It was 48m and seconds from sight to shot and I made it! That was 11:35am.
It was a 6 month old male fawn and the 270gr Speer Semi Spitzer had poleaxed it. There was a significant exit wound:
And my own head shot....
It's not the first time The Judge has bitten me. The second goat I ever shot, coincidentally the biggest billy I've taken, also was accompanied by a smack in the face and I wasn't sore so I wasn't unhappy. So we staunched the worst of the blood flow, put an Elastoplast on it and we cut both back legs, the back straps and one front leg and began the 5km hike back to the SUV. Drew said he would only take a shot if he saw a decent sized buck. Otherwise we had plenty of meat and it seemed pointless to make the walk back even more strenuous. So he shot nothing all day.
We didn't leave until 2pm and because of a coffee and a snack on the way home got back to my place around 3pm. We hung the legs in my garage, stowed my rifle and made another coffee. Then I went to investigate how bad the cut on my forehead was. It was heading for an inch long, still bleeding a bit and gaping open. So I sent Drew home and headed to the Emergency Room, promising to call him when I got out since he'd invited himself over for dinner. Like I was going to say no!
That was 4:15pm and at 6:15 I wandered out and after picking up a few things from the supermarket (and beer!), I headed home and started to cook dinner. Drew arrived at 7:30 and we sat down at 8:15 to the following sumptuous feast:
Steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes, bacon and tangy BBQ venison backstrap steaks. It was followed with apple pie and icecream. But since I didn't shoot any of it, and anything you have to shoot to get apple pie is pretty suss, I decided not to add a pic of it. At 9:30 he staggered out the door, part completely full, part completely exhausted and headed home.
I have to look back at how I was feeling yesterday and think I really deserved a smacked bottom. It bears mentioning that, despite my pessimisism, today:
- I took my first deer.
- I took my second deer......with my own rifle.
- The Judge was super accurate at the ranges I'll need it for next week.
- The weather all morning was superb - the wind blew the right way, it was dry and even quite warm once we got walking.
- Despite the fact there were significant sections of boggy ground and water that flowed over the toes of my boots they remained resolutely dry all day.
So in reality, at least from where I stand, God wasn't saying "Don't get your hopes up." I think He was actually saying "Be patient and have faith." Even though I'm sitting here typing with steri-strips and glue holding my forehead together I don't think it could've worked out better. Who can ask for a better mate and better weather and a better outcome? Pretty close to perfection if you ask me.
P.S. After a bit of experimentation and investigation Drew and I surmised the problem with the forehead injuries was my technique. The butt was not properly placed on the shoulder and my hand was poorly placed too far back on the foreend to support the heavier recoil. It was fine for target shooting but bad for snap shots. A bit of practise throwing the Judge to my should with my pack on and Drew giving a good shove down on the bbl showed with proper technique my forehead was completely safe. I'll try and put in a couple of rounds at the range midweek if I have time but if I make sure my hand stays halfway down the foreend and I mount the rifle properly when the shot presents our sambar deer hunt down south in Victoria (Australia, not BC!) in 8 days should be incident free.
