Well, here it is. After a nine day early archery season, the rifle season has kicked in. While I had opportunities at several small to medium bucks with my bow, I elected to pass them up. There were several other larger ones I had been spying on all Summer, a couple of which had been regular visitors during the past few evenings.

The area in which I do a good deal of my hunting is a fairly large cattle/hay farm. There are several fields of mixed hay types, bordered on one side by a nice river and on others by timbered hillsides. Whitetails frequent here in the evenings, coming out of the cover of their bedding areas for a good nighttime meal.

It's a great pastime to sit on a hillside during the Summer up to 1/2 a mile from where the deer start to congregate in late afternoon. From there, I watch the does arrive early, followed by small bucks and ever larger ones as the shadows get longer. A good spotting scope allows me to easily identify various bucks by their antler configuation as well as body coloration.

This year there were 14 bucks that I could recognize. Most were yearlings having 3 points per side or less. At the other end of the spectrum, there were 3 truly impressive bucks - a 5x6 with very long double brow tines on both sides, a 6x6 with forked G2's, and a dead even, very wide 5 pt.

Since bow season began, the 5 pt is the only bruiser I've seen regularly, although he was travelling with a pretty nice 3x4. Try as I might, I couldn't get a shot at either of them. So I came to the realization that the advent of rifle season was to be my best chance for the big guy.

What a roller coaster ride of emotions accosted me on this evening.

After ducking out of work as early as I could, I managed to worm my way into a good ambush site without disturbing the does and small bucks that were already milling about.

Not 10 minutes after getting into position, the landowner came driving along in his pick-up. I popped out of my hiding spot before he could blunder into the field and send the deer scattering. He was wanting to know if it would be OK by me if a couple of his friends from the coast, instead of me, could hunt that field for the evening. Obviously I had no choice and cheerfully abdicated.

Away he went to retrieve his friends and I elected to stay in my nest to spectate. Soon the hunters all arrived and I watched them get into position for their shots. As if on cue, the 3 of them touched off 3 rounds and took 3 deer - a spike, 2 pt, and 3 pt. I felt pretty low at this point, but of course had no say in the matter. So I went and helped them load the deer into their pick-up and was a little happier to see the tail end of the truck disappear off into the sunset.

At that point, I waffled a little on whether or not there would be any sense to sticking around. The whole place had been turned on its ear with the volley of shots fired and loud activity of picking up the dead bucks. Surely nothing would come back now until well after dark. But I couldn't help myself and climbed back into my hiding spot.

To my great surprise, after no more than 10 minutes, I spotted 2 bucks enter the field some 350 yards away. The binoculars confirmed they were the 3x4 and the big 5 pt. I immediately went from a feeling of scant hope to one of excitement and anticipation. How lucky could I be, having these bucks stay out of sight until the previous party had done all its running amuck and then come out with only me to observe them?

They grazed at a snail's pace toward me. With the light beginning to fade, they had approached to a range of about 225 yards. All this time I watched through the binoculars like a kid in a candy store coveting the goodies behind the glass. The 3x4 was separated from the 5 pt and would not be in the way of a shot.

I elected to take the first broadside opportunity as soon as they came up out of a little dip in the field. Having a good, solid rest for my 7mm mag, I touched off a shot and watched the deer drop. I was ecstatic! This would be the largest deer I had acquired in about 10 years.

In scant seconds, I was making a beeline straight toward where the deer had fallen. Having marked the direction carefully, I was right on line when I first saw it 20 yards ahead in the long grass. But something was amiss - lying there, the result of one well-placed shot, was the 3x4. I had shot the wrong deer. Despair!

The bucks had - unobserved by me - switched positions while in the dip. Instead of being the guy on the right, the 5 pt had become the one on the left. I made the bad mistake of not checking again which was which before I shot. Never in 30+ years of hunting had anything like that happened to me, and what a time for such an event.

Nonetheless, it was a very nice buck and I got over my depression in fairly quick order. His body size was substantial, so he'll put plenty of steaks into the freezer. The 3x4 antlers would have been very even if he had remembered to grow a brow tine on both sides instead of just one. But they are still in full velvet and so quite extraordinary.

Post Script : Now near the end of October, I haven't seen the big 5-point since the above adventure unfolded. I don't think he has been shot; he's much too savvy not to pay attention to all the chaos of that evening. No doubt he and the other pair of whoppers I saw during much of the summer have become nocturnal. With the rut rapidly approaching - the peak should be just 2 or 3 weeks away now - I suspect they will be coming around to visit the multitude of does that still frequent the area for groceries during daylight hours.

Final Word : The rut is now pretty much finished and even the does no longer appear very often in the early morning or late afternoon. There were plenty of bucks, including some pretty nice ones, running themselves ragged in various locations I monitored. However, I never did see the big ones again around the hay farm where I shot my early season buck. Hopefully they made it through the season unscathed and will show up again next year.

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Having shot my only alotted whitetail buck in early September, I was forced to wring my hands for a month and a half while waiting for late archery season to arrive. When it commenced on November 25, does were finally open. The bag limit here is 1 of each gender, and I had been monitoring the local doe population.

The first four days were all work days for me. Eagerly, I was out well before dawn and groped my way home in the dark for the next 3 days. On one occasion, a very nice mature 4x4 stood broadside to me at 25 yards. But I just couldn't be in quite the right place at the right time to get my doe.

After an additional wait until the next weekend, the quest continued. Having seen a group of does consistently come down one particular ridge in the evening, I elected to set up for them Saturday. But I arrived a little later than anticipated and they were already on the open slope.

What did I have to lose? I walked directly toward them and they watched with cautious eyes. Once they thought I was a potential threat, they turned and trotted back from whence they came. I then took the opportunity to hurry to my desired ambush site, hoping that the deer would get over their mild alarm and come back down on the same route.

The plan worked to perfection. A quarter of an hour after establishing my position, the first doe appeared from behind a line of brush and stood broadside at 20 yards. When I drew, she didn't even look my way and the arrow passed through her lungs in an instant. She fell within sight and my season was over.

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