“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." - Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
Sylas and his parents (my daughter and her husband) got to “The (Soon To Be) World Famous Meirelles Deer Camp” Thanksgiving night after I had shot my buck. On Black Friday morning the ladies went to town while the gentlemen had more pressing priorities, specially sighting in or getting used to rifles, in Sylas case a brand new Ruger American chambered in 350 Legend.
For some reason Sylas was very afraid of the potential recoil from his new rifle and it was a battle, involving tears and whining and other unpleasantries, to have him shoot the very mildly recoiling gun a couple times in order to get ready for the afternoon hunt.
Food and time riding my ATV erased any bad feelings from the morning target shooting session and by 3:30 PM we were leaving the more than comfortable club house with a lot of hunter-orange to provide both legal compliance and an extra measure of safety, even if we were hunting private property from an enclosed elevated blind.
Either by design or accident there is a concealed parking spot just yards from the blind and transporting the gear upstairs was no chore at all. Once we were properly and comfortably installed I loaded Sylas’s rifle and placed it securely against a corner and got my most indispensable piece of gear: a pair of binoculars. I will not even touch my rifle before I have identified a potential target through binoculars and assure that a shot would be safe.
But I digress, this story is about Sylas. No more than a handful of minutes after we arrived, a pair of very young deer, probably buck fawns came out from the wood line just west of us and started browsing the late fall vegetation and Sylas asked if he could shoot one of them. My answer was that he could shoot either of them, but should he? They were very young and small deer that would result in very little, but delicious, venison. Was one of those young deer the trophy he was looking for? Besides, while some people use artificial decoys to attract deer, we could just wait and let those fawns be our live decoys. Their presence would provide confidence for other animals that could potentially come into the clearing.
Nothing reinforces a lesson as well as real life practice. I had barely ended my lecture when I saw a brown shape moving rapidly inside the wood line about a hundred yards away. I told Sylas to pay attention as an animal much larger than the ones in front of us was just inside the woods, although I couldn’t tell wether it was a buck or a doe.
Things started to pick up pace as a buck emerged from the woods and slowly walked straight to the blind! I passed the binoculars to Sylas so he could evaluate the buck and the inevitable question came: “Can I shoot him?”
“Of course you can, but he is a bit far away and facing us. Why don’t you wait a little for him to get closer and turn broadside.”
From that point on it was like if the buck was being remotely controlled. At 54 yards the buck stopped and turned left, showing his right side to us. At this point I handled Sylas his rifle and he rested it on the window rail. The Leupold VX-R was already turned on and the little red dot provided an accurate reference for the young hunter. “Fufu I can’t take the shot. There is brush in front of the deer and at Hunter Safety they said that it is not safe to shoot an animal behind vegetation.”
I asked him to wait until the buck took a step forward and to make sure to aim at a spot directly up from the front leg and about the middle of the shoulder. Again, like by remote control the buck took that important step forward.
After the shot rang and the buck bolted towards the woods Sylas was positive. “I know I hit! The tail went down and he crunched downwards. Only deer that are hit react like that.” Not a bad observation for a ten year old boy.
During the next several minutes we put away our gear, I took off my bibs and heavier coat and got ready for the tracking job. After making sure that the rifle was ready but safe we climbed down and walked towards the spot the buck stood when shot and put nose to the grind stone looking for that magical first drop of blood eventually spotted by the young hunter himself.
Before moving forward we talked about how, if we lost the trail, coming back to first blood was important and that he should mark it, which he did using his red ear muffs. We slowly charged ahead, found more blood and came to inevitable split of the trail. Did the buck kept going west or turned southwards? We discussed the possibilities and found that ferns on the south side looked disturbed like by a running animal.
At this point I told Sylas that we would maybe look for another yard or two and get back to the blind so we wouldn’t risking jumping the wounded buck. It is always safer to let the animal lay down and get weaker than keeping the adrenaline up and trying to escape. But the lesson was almost pointless; as I raised my eyes, fifteen or twenty yards ahead of us was a very dead nine-pointer buck.
I called Trevor who was hunting in the cornfield across the road to help load the buck on the ATV and before taking any pictures made sure that Sylas placed the letzebissen (last bite) in the bucks mouth. This European tradition places a sprig of vegetation, as both a symbol of respect and gratitude, in the animal’s mouth. Immediately afterwards I removed my hat and shaking his hand said “Weidmanssheil” and explained to him that the proper answer is “Weidmannsdank.”
While hunting is very different than killing, the finality of the kill is what makes hunting real. Taking a life is a very serious action, and in my view the animal should be commemorated with more formality and respect than a high-five. In our rather convoluted times a bit of tradition and propriety goes a long away to make an hour spent in the woods between grandson and grandfather an even more unforgettable experience.
