I was up all day and night than drove up to Sullivan County Friday morning to hunt on a friends land.  Having the "Opening Day Jitters" it took forever to get to sleep.  Waking up the next day at 3:00am with only three and a half hours of sleep, I soon found myself in the cold woods freezing my butt off.  It was seventeen degrees by 5:30am.  By 3:00pm I hadn‘t seen a deer all day, only a coyote who took off as I swung my cross hairs upon him.  I was shot, freezing, tired, and not really enjoying myself at this point. 

I decided to brake protocol and leave the woods early. This is something I've never done.  If I don't see deer I stay until I can't see my sights anymore.

As I stood up, picked up my rifle and knapsack to make an exit several shots rang out.  Several more shots went off.  Than more and more shots.  I knew there was a bunch of farmers and their boys across the road about a dozen in all.  I watch them making drives as I took my coffee brake at 10:00am.  Hearing so many shots I thought that they must have a lot of "Doe Permits" or something's running pretty fast and they're all missing.  If they had hit anything there wouldn't be so many shots going off.

Immediately I sat right back down pack on the ground and readied my 30-06.  Sure enough about three minutes later four does about 50 yards or so came running in front of me.  Than he came.  About 50 more yards beyond the group of females there he was, the one I had been waiting for all day.  They went clear across the property before they slowed down and stopped.  I couldn't tell if the buck was a spike or had a rack. I took extra care to scope him out. 

Bucks have to have at least three points on one antler to be legal in the DMU (Deer Management Unit) I was hunting in.  New York State is weird that way. 

I put my cross hairs on his shoulder and pulled the trigger.  I missed!  In disbelief chambering another round as fast as I could, I shot again and missed!  He just stood there starring at me.

I stop and compose myself for thirty to forty five seconds hoping he wouldn't "split."  Leaning against the tree at my watch again I put the X in of the old Redfield on his shoulder.  I took a deep breath in, exhaled and remembered to simply to decrease the distance between my thumb and trigger finger.

The rifle went off.  Chambering another round, bringing the scope back down from the recoil lift to where the buck had stood, he was gone.  Looking up over the scope my vision sweeping across the woods seeing no white flags waving “good bye,” I wondered if I got him?

I peered thought the scope fixed on the spot at which he stood a minute or so past like eternity, than a movement.  His hoof popped up in to the scope for a brief moment than dropped.  It must have been his last kick holding on to life.  I remained frozen finger on the trigger in case he got up to bolt.  After a while, making a mental mark of the spot, I lit up.

An old friend once said the best thing to do after a making a kill is not to move.  “Have a smoke, relax and than go get your deer.”  Counting the paces reaching my buck at 103 a feeling of pride came along.  As I watch him take his last breaths, I gave thanks, very happy having another hat rack and another year of venison in the freezer.

And to think, I almost left before the miracle happened!