Big bucks often catch a break by veering away from a hunter.

The big buck appeared like a ghost from a bad dream. One minute there was nothing nearby, and the next found me looking at a 140-class whitetail buck.

He was 75 yards away, moving in my general direction through the fringe of a swampy wooded area. He moved slowly and cautiously, the way big bucks do once they've been shot at.

This big boy was an old buck, and I saw him once the year before but such thoughts often leave something to the imagination. My guess was that he was 5 1/2 years old, and had survived this long by being smarter than the average buck.

Instincts play a major role in keeping big bucks safe.

He tested the wind constantly, stood for long minutes checking things out before committing to a move, and I knew where he was heading. A nearby corn field had been half picked, and the owner hoped to get all of the field harvested before the predicted weekend rain fell.

The buck nosed the ground, following the track made by an unseen deer for 10 yards before turning back on his course toward the corn. At this pace, it would reach the dinner table just after dark.

The question was whether he would reach me or pass out of range through marsh grass and scrub brush before shooting time ended. A doe came squirting out of the marsh grass, moving away from the buck. The rut was in full-drive, but she was nervous but he didn't pursue her.

His intentions seemed quite clear: reach the corn field right at dark, feed, terrorize the younger bucks and young does, and be back bedded down before daylight broke across the land.

He kept coming, and was soon 60 yards away. I've shot many bucks over the years, but this one was too grand an animal to try such an unwarranted shot in fairly thick cover. I never shoot at a buck that I'm not 100 percent confident of killing.

My bow was in my hand, and this was the largest buck I'd seen lately, but he would either come close enough for a slam-dunk easy shot or he'd continue on about his business.

He eventually reached the edge of thick cover, and would move through more open upland woods ... if he stayed his course. He would move out of the heavy cover and into the open, and then duck back in the cover, zigzagging ever closer to me.

He minced along like he had sore feet, and stopped every few steps. He was now 35 yards away, but still in heavy cover when his heavy white antlers could be seen. In fact, it was one glimpse of white antlers going up and down as he rubbed a tree that first caught my attention.

The wind was swinging a bit from north to northwest, and then he turned and seemed to move closer toward me. That turned out to be an illusion as he walked around a wind-toppled tree.

Sometimes bucks offer shots but are too far away. I don't take them.

My watch showed there was but 10 minutes of shooting time left, and he was now at 30 yards but still five yards inside thick cover. The suspense continued to build with each step he took, and the big question was whether he would start sliding toward the more open part of the funnel or stay back where it was thick.

I'd shot a number of bucks from this spot before, and all of them had walked into the thin part of the cover. One spot offered a 20-yard open shot but he was still 25 yards from it.

The clock was ticking, and even though I've shot bucks at this distance over many years, each one is a new adventure. Honestly, the wait is an adrenalin-filled rush. He stepped forward, almost to the edge of the thin cover, and I'm glancing at my watch.

There was five minutes left, and two more steps would put him into the opening where I'd have an easy broadside shot. He put his head down, rocked on his feet, but didn't move forward.

My bow was up, and I was ready to draw, but still he stood, rooted in one spot. And he was still standing there, two steps from a clean shot, when shooting time ran out.

Legal shooting time had ended without me shooting.

He was so close, and yet so far away, and he stood there for 10 more minutes before moving on toward the corn field. It was a wonderful hunt, filled with heart-pounding excitement right up until the end, and after he moved off, I headed home.

Knowing that buck is there is important. I may or may not shoot him, but I will hunt him again. He is too big to ignore but one wonders. Bucks in this area are like circuit-riding preachers from the Old West, and there is always the troubling thought of never seeing him again.

Time will tell. If I never see him again, I'll feel blessed to have seen him once on a snowy November day.

Harold Knight calls for fast action.

The 8-pointer was slowly making his way along the edge of a thick tag alder run, and was crosswind to me. I gave one short grunt, and one slightly longer grunt. Both were rather obnoxious sounding.

Not to the buck, though. He stopped in midstride, swiveled his head in my direction, and slowly turned my way. There is only one big-time rule to follow when using a grunt call for deer.

If the buck heads in your direction, don't call again. If the animal comes 50 or 100 yards, stops and looks around in obvious confusion, turn your head away from the deer, and give one soft and muffled call. The buck is looking for a direction, and you can say "Over Here" with one grunt. Put the call away and get ready for a shot.

On came the deer, and he swaggered to within eight yards, and stopped. He milled around for a minute or so, snuffling the air, and then turned broadside. My FirstCut 90-grain broadhead took him behind the front shoulder and exited the brisket. He went 40 yards and folded up.

I've used calls on bobcats, coyotes, deer, ducks, elk, foxes, geese, moose and wild turkeys. If any one thing holds true, it's that animals and birds can usually pinpoint almost exactly where the call comes from.

I've used many calls from a tree until several years ago. I've used all types of deer calls including those made by A-Way, Knight & Hale, Primos, Stratton Game Calls, Woods-Wise and many others.

One problem that has always  concerned me was that I know deer and other critters can lock onto a call's precise location. Who has ever seen a deer grunting from an elevation position? I haven't. H&M Archery Products of Willis, Michigan has a novel call that I've used for several years. Their philosophy is that deer don't climb trees so why should a hunter call from a tree?

They produce a call with a 14-foot length of coil-kink resistant rubber latex tubing that another 12-foot length of tubing can be attached to, and a hunter can sit 15 feet up a tree and lay out the other 11 feet of rubber tubing, and call from a tree but the grunt comes from ground level where it sounds most natural.

Any condensation occurs in the tubing, not in the call. This helps eliminate freeze-up in cold weather.

I begin with the 14-foot length but soon added another length that allows the call to be places off to one side of my tree where an investigating buck will be properly positioned for a shot.

This buck approached, grunting for fast action.

The nice thing is this tubing arrangement will fit most tube-type calls. It puts the sound at ground level where it is most effective.

Many hunters blow a sequence of grunts that is much too long. I keep my grunts short, pause and grunt again for several seconds, and then stop. Ten minutes later try calling again. It also helps to be rattling while calling to re-enact a calling sequence, and it offers a double-barreled approach to calling deer.

There are many different types of deer vocalizations but the grunt call works well. I've had little or no success with a fawn bleat, and only minimal success with a doe bleat. I seldom try them anymore.

One thing that works is to grunt if you see a buck. I've called in numerous bucks that were unseen, but calling works very well on visible bucks. It gives hunters a chance to judge the deer's reaction to the call, but if the deer come and then stop coming, muffle the call and grunt softly one more time. If they keep coming toward you, do nothing but get ready to draw and shoot.

One of the most exciting things about deer hunting is grunting in a good buck. The noises that come out of an inhale, exhale or inhale-exhale call may sound like your hunting camp buddy two hours after a plate of refried beans, but these three types of grunt calls do work.

As is true with everything else about bow hunting whitetail bucks, nothing is 100 percent except Uncle Sam tapping you for a yearly donation and that some day you will pass on to your just rewards. That said, grunt in a good buck and if he charges in with his neck hairs standing up, you will quickly become a convert to calling.

Once, a number of years ago, I spotted a buck 100 yards away. A grunt was made, the buck turned and came to within 15 yards, and no shots were taken. The buck eventually walked off, and another grunt sequence brought him running back again.

This sequence was replayed four times before the buck was allowed to wander off on his own. It seems to work equally well on old or young bucks. Just experiment with calling sequences but just don't call too much or too loud.

Trust me, it can pay off ... on a somewhat regular basis. A grunt call should become a part of every deer hunter's repertoire.

A bow-hunting Gran'ma, Kay Richey.

Spending time with someone else, and watching them take a shot at a buck, is just as exciting for the watcher as for the shooter.

It's long been said that turkey hunting is a one-man game, and that, for the most part, is true. Hunts can be shared by people who hunt alone but who will share the trip with another person.

More families than ever before have come to share their hunts. My wife, Kay, once shared a successful bow hunt with three grandchildren. The youngest was still sucking on a bottle, and Kay had the kids all seated in an elevated coop 10 feet off the ground where the could watch the hunt unfold.

Three grandchilden sat with Kay while she hunted from an elevated coop.

she whispered, "There is a nice buck. Sit still, don't move around and don't make a sound. Gran'ma will see if she can shoot it."

She eased the elevated coop window open, made sure all the kids could see without moving around, and waited for the buck to walk in. It stepped into her shooting area, and was slightly quartering-away, and she waited for the near-side front leg to move forward before drawing and shooting.

The buck ran off, and Eric, who has eyes like an eagle said: "You got him, Gram, you shot him right in the heart. Let's go find him."

"You got him, Gramm," Eric said,, "right through the heart."

She got all three kids safely to the ground, went back up, lowered her bow and quiver of arrows to the ground, and began following the Game Tracker string. She had to rein in the grandkids to keep them from running ahead and getting tangled in the line.

It was starting to get dark in the woods, and she took the kids back to the car. She knew the deer was dead, and soon her daughter Nancy, and son-in-law Roger, and I, arrived.

The kids got right into it. We  quickly found the dead buck, and set about field-dressing it. The girls stood and watched as the entrails came out, and when Dave held up the heart, Eric blurted: "I told you, Gram, right through the heart."

A young lad drags a scent towel to help.

The youngest of these kids was two years old at the time, and it didn't gross them out. They probably would have helped with the field dressing but we didn't want them to get bloody for fear some well-meaning person might have thought we'd been beating them. They probably wouldn't have understood taking the kids out hunting either.

Children must learn to have patience, and it is a necessary part of a bow hunt. Most kids, especially those who do not hunt, have a patience level of seven or eight minutes -- the time between television commercials. That type of patience won't work in a deer stand.

Kids must learn to sit still, and to remain silent. They can learn what an adrenalin rush feels like when Dad, Mom or Gram takes a shot. They learn, first-hand, that hunters always try to kill cleanly and quickly, and utilize the flesh of this animal for the nourishment of their bodies.

Adults can get their children into shooting. Never give a kid a hand-me-down adult bow that is too long for them. Shop around to find a short-draw bow that will work fine for two or three years.

Teach them to shoot, and teach them how to read deer sign in the sand, snow or mud. Show then how to determine wind direction, and why it is so important to be downwind of deer.

Take kids hunting, teach them good from bad, and let them enjoy the experience.

Show children what a broadside and quartering-away shot looks like and coach them that these are high-percentage shots. Show them which shots should not be taken and why they seldom produce a killing shot.

Teach them respect for these animals we hunt. Allow them to learn to read the body language of a deer, and how the animals will react when danger threatens.

Take them out when preseason scouting, and take them out once the season opens. Teach them tree stand safety, how to use a safety harness, and how to stay safe in an elevated stand or tree stand.

Most of all, talk to them afterward. Listen to their stories, and share yours with them, and give up your time to sit with them if they are not 17 years of age. Be supportive of their efforts, and install a sense of needing to practice to avoid having to make a long trailing job on a poorly hit deer.

Take them out hunting. Show them. Teach them, laugh with them and be proud of them if they cry over their first deer kill. Give of yourself, and that giving will be returned ten-fold in the years to come.

Photographing wild whitetail bucks requires as much skill as hunting them.

It was one of those great nights a few tears ago when the deer started moving early on a west wind, and continued filtering through my area until after dark. It presented me with a dilemma.

Should I shoot a buck with my compound bow or with a camera? The new Canon camera with a 300mm lens seemed to beckon hard and long for my use, and because it is newer than the bow, I left the bow in its case at home.

The first deer came along the edge of a funnel between two tag alder thickets. It was an adult doe, and lacking anything better to do, I watched her come for 200 yards. She stopped once, looked back, and hauled butt toward me and she was weaving in and out of the tags.

Knowing where to set up for taking good photos works just as well when hunting.

Her body language told me all I needed to know. She was trying to stay ahead of a trailing buck, and she squirted out in front of me. She stopped just out into the field, stood momentarily, and kept moving.

Two minutes later, as silent as a shadow, came the 8-point. He had five-inch brow tines, and had all the makings of a good buck with one more year on him. I clicked off several photos as he stepped out of the snowy alders where she had run out, and he trotted head-down to the place where she had stopped 15 yards from me, and came to a broadside halt.

I got another photo as he came to a stop, and he apparently didn't hear the camera shutter clunk, but off he went in hot pursuit. Then minutes later two does and four button bucks and doe fawns passed, and they too were looking over their shoulder. I clicked a few photos of them passing by, and then all was silent and still for several minutes.

The wind was switching from southwest to west to northwest, and back again. My stand was perfect for the wind, and it gave me a good view of the funnel these deer were using. They often would step out into the field rather than cross the two-track trail in heavy cover.

There's not a lot of traffic down this trail, and my stand was 150 yards from it. The deer seem to favor a more open view of the area rather than to be caught in heavy cover with a car coming. I found it a bit odd, but it seemed to be a local quirk of these animals.

A knowledge of deer habits is very important when shooting photographs.

A half-hour passed, and I could see a few deer across a wide-open field, and those animals were heading elsewhere. They weren't heading in my direction.

Fifteen minutes before shooting time ended, a small doe was seen being chased by a spike, and she came busting down through the funnel, jumped out of the tag alders and never slowed down near me. The spike had twin six-inch daggers growing out of his head, and it's possible the doe was more concerned about rough stuff with those spikes than being bred by him.

A minute later a pair of year-and-a-half-old bucks, one a 7-point and his buddy had 8 points, walked past my stand just inside the brush. I snapped some photos of them, and they were on their way.

A friend was coming to pick me up, and I stayed in my stand to await his arrival. His vehicle would spook away any deer, and it would help me avoid scaring off any deer within sight of my stand.

Having a friend walk or drive in to pick you up works great. They will be gone before you can get down.

Shooting light came and went, and I stowed my camera and sat quietly with binoculars in my hands. Two antlerless deer were seen 200 yards away, moving south and away from me, and as I sat waiting patiently, a buck slipped out of the brush and paused, 15 yards away.

I could see white atop his head, and what appeared to be a goodly amount of it. This buck came from out of nowhere, and he wasn't seen until he was spotted standing there. He was upwind of me, and where he paused was where the doe had stopped.

He sniffed around, sorted out the odors of the doe, the other bucks and fawns, and headed into the tag alder funnel and disappeared from sight. He may have went north or south, but it was too dark to tell.

My buddy soon arrived, picked me up, and we discussed what photo ops each of had had. He had seen more deer than me, and he didn't have a bow with him either.

Perhaps, another evening will be a bow night. I'm not terribly picky, but I'm always looking for something great. I may have to settle for an antlerless deer or two this year, but I don't care. I've taken too many smaller bucks, and I'd just as soon take a doe as a small rack.

I'm not a trophy hunter. I'm a realist, and would rather see those small bucks grow into big bucks. A doe eats as well or better than a buck, and in the meantime, I can always shoot photos.

This big buck, framed between two maples, was patterned right.

A few of my friends have bet me with a friendly verbal wager that they would shoot a buck that night. I'd prod them a bit, and ask just how certain they are that a good buck would fall to their well-placed arrow.

Those who were staunch in their opinion said they could feel it in their bones. Now me, feeling something in my bones usually means a touch of arthritis is flaring up.

They continued to plunge on saying the wind was right, they were planning to hunt such and such a ground blind or tree stand. They had this dream formed in their mind, and I wasn't about to try swaying their thoughts.

Wishing for and planning to shoot a buck are two different things.

Their big buck, framed between hope and desire in their day-dreams, was due to show up that day at 20 yards, while accompanied by a wagon-load of luck.

Off they would go, a big sillygrin of anticipation on their face. Over many years of hunting whitetail bucks, more often than not, a hunter with such a no-fail plan would be the first to fold Double Bull tent blind when the deer decided to go elsewhere.

It's my nature to let them natter on and on, and if they ask for my opinion, I offer it for what it is worth. Some pay attention, and others just fritter away an evening of hunting without ever being within 100 yards of any kind of a buck.

Deer operate on instincts, and getting too hyped up in advance can make a hunter careless.  In their rush to get settled into the stand, something falls out of their pocket and is left laying on the ground where every nearby deer will see or smell it.

Their giddy mood often makes them a bit antsy. The beat goes on, running through their brain, and in breathless anticipation of the shot they simply know is coming, their toes are tapping the stand in time with the music playing in their head.

A buck stands back in the brush, hears a faint sound, and eventually the animal locates it high in a cedar, pine or oak tree, and heads off to visit his girlfriend 300 yards away.

Bucks may show up on schedule but they are usually young ones.

Or, our hero sits in the tree, looking a bit southwest with binoculars to his eyes, scanning the terrain for a buck. Every so often, sunlight will glint off the lens and sends a flash of light on its way. A deer that looks up just in time to see the flash of light will be suspicious and approach that area with extreme caution, if at all.

Sometimes the buck does show, and after hours of dreaming of a close and deadly shot, the bow hunter becomes all fumble-fingered, and creates too much movement as he prepares for a shot. Or, he turns slightly in the stand for a close shot, and something falls out of his pocket and goes clattering across the stand.

It could be a wallet or anything. The bow limb could rub against the tree, and some bark or pine needles could go drifting to the ground. A sharp-eyed buck will spot the falling stuff, wonder why he'd never seen it happen in that spot before, and before we know it, the buck is two fields away and still running, scared plumb out of his wits.

These things happen. I've learned never to predict a buck at the end of my hunting day. First of all, I'd have to see one I wanted to shoot, and that never happens on a regular basis.

Optimism is a great quality but keep such thoughts realistic.

I do believe in being optimistic. Feeling confident is much different than almost bragging about a buck that may not come within two miles of the hunter.

Respect for the animals we hunt is important. It's far more important than bragging about an animal that as yet has not been seen or shot. It may be time for some hunters to critically analyze the reasons why they hunt, and those who have true convictions, hunt for the sake of hunting. A buck or doe is only a bonus.

Killing a buck or doe proves very little other than the hunter was in the right place at the right time, and made a good shot. It rarely proves anything else.

Unforgettable whitetail bucks are those big critters you see, and although they may be very close or a considerable distance away, weather conditions or other factors conspire against taking a shot.

I'm so mindful of a hunt some 30 years ago in Georgia with Bill Jordan, he of the RealTree camouflage pattern fame. We were hunting land just outside of Calloway Gardens that Jordan had leased for years. My trusty pre-1964 Winchester Model 70 in .264 Winchester Magnum was with me, and it was topped by a 1 1/2 X 10-power Swarovski scope.

Jordan pointed me at a tree with spikes pounded in, and up at nose-bleed altitudes was a stand. The sad thing about this great spot is Bill is tall and lanky while I am short with a 28-inch inseam. Those steps suited him well but were a good six inches too far apart for me. I tried to climb it, got six feet off the ground, and backed away from trying to climb any higher. Safety harnesses were not in vogue back then.

He described the buck as “massive,” and I was hoping to see him.

Yonder hill was fine, wind-wise, and I found a nice spot with a good view of the swale that held deer and the closest hillside. Jordan told me there was a 180-class whitetail buck with great huge antlers. I sat on the ground, and watched the swale and hill 150 yards away, and figured if that buck moved out, I'd send him a 140-grain air mail package.

The time passed slowly, and several respectable but smaller bucks stepped out to feed with the does, and this was well before the rut. I glassed every buck that walked out, and none fit Jordan's description.

I watched a 140-class buck for several minutes, and knew that Jordan had shot some trophies with a bow and knew that he knew the difference between a 140- and a 180-point buck. I returned my attention to the hillside, and saw one big deer feeding behind a roll in the hill. Its upper body was visible but any head gear  was not visible.

Body-wise, it looked like a blocky old buck. It was big enough in the body to meet Jordan's description, but the head was still down and out of view. The deer kept feeding along, pausing every few feet for a few minutes, but not once did he raise his head.

He acted as though he would walk up out of the little slot he was in, and I took a firm rest across my knees, and continued to watch the deer. The crosshairs settled on the its spine but my finger stayed off the trigger.

The deer kept its head down longer than I'd ever seen any deer do so, and then it dawned on me that it was relying on a big doe that was 10 feet uphill. That made me doubly suspicious that it was the big old buck Jordan had told me about.

It was probably the buck but no antlers were visible.

The deer kept moving slightly away from me, but I know my rifle and knew what it could do. Even a 200-yard shot would be easy to make, and I’d made many such shots at nice bucks in the past.

Eventually the sun went down, and I'd watched this deer for 90 minutes and it had never raised its head. I kept the scope trained on the deer as it kept moving, and glanced at my watch every few minutes. The deer was now approaching 200 yards, and still his head stayed down.

It can't be a doe, I thought, she'd be raising her head constantly. The little roll in the ground was flattening out, and I knew that soon the deer would reveal itself as a big buck or doe.

The cross-hairs were on the spine, and if it turned out to be a buck, a minute shift in my aiming point would put the scope on the heart-lung area. My watch showed five minutes to go, and with the light condition being what they were that evening, things were getting fuzzy around the edges.

Time was running out. I’m mentally urging him to raise his head.

One minute to go, and I estimated the deer would be visible from the head back. The view of that deer was getting milky looking, and then it happened.

It was a buck, and a huge massive rack loomed up in the gathering darkness. I flicked off my safety, and as I did, the shooting time and the light ended. I sat there, my scope trained on a buck I no longer could see.

My view for a split second was of 11 or 12 high and heavy tines, an almost impossibly wide spread of nearly 26 inches, and G-2s and G-3s that appeared to be 12 inches long and very thick. There was a sense of great mass to this buck, and it had to be the one Jordan told me about.

I hunted that buck for three more nights, and never saw him again. It's a buck I'll always remember because I had been hunting less than a quarter-mile from Calloway Gardens, and figured that most of the resort's visitors had no clue this giant buck lived nearby. I figured he would gross well over 200 inches.

He had lived a very long life, and having seen him for that brief instant, had changed my life and how I would look at and think about big bucks in the future. He truly was unforgettable.

The chasing phase of the rut can make bucks do odd things. This one hit a fence post.

The ground-level box blind was warm and comfortable, and the predicted snow that was supposed to fall, had not materialized. However, a deer did an odd thing and that provides the basis for tonight’s story.

A spindly 8-point buck had just moved down the trail, traveling upwind of my stand, and 100 yards behind him was a button-buck fawn. The young buck ambled along but knew his place in the pecking order of his life, and he was on the bottom rung. Little bucks don’t tick off big bucks, and fare well in the outcome.

The little guy, like small children or small deer, are curious. Who knows why or when something will capture their interest, and hasten their need to investigate. I was 18 yards off a heavily used trail that meandered through the browned bracken ferns of early November.

Watching some of the antics of small deer is more fun for me than shooting.

The wee buck fawn stopped as he came even with my blind, and turn to look at me. The inside of the coop had been painted black, and I was dressed in camo clothing with brown gloves on my hands and a camo face mask. He couldn’t see or smell me.

He looked, bobbed his head up and down in the head fake that fawns soon learn from their mother, and tried to get the box blind to move. It was anchored securely to the ground and wouldn’t budge, but the little buck tried it two or three times without success.

Finally, tiring of the head fake, the button buck started my way. Slowly, mind you, with frequent pauses to check out this odd structure that he hadn’t seen before. Closer he came, inching in the last few feet, and stuck his head in the shooting window.

His nose was three feet from my knee, and he took a deep whiff, found nothing that appeared to be objectionable. I sat still, wondering what he would do next, and he stood still for about 15 seconds, walked back to the trail and followed the buck out of sight. The Scent-Lok suit worked,

Eye-to-eye with a wild deer at three feet is a really neat experience.

I’ve had curious does and fawns walk close but have never had one stick his head in the shooting window of my hunting coop. This was a first for me, and a real treat for someone who loves seeing deer do weird things.

One time, while sitting on a stump just the perfect height off the ground and with my feet stretched out in front of me, a doe fawn and her mother came walking by. The doe stopped to eyeball me, and that didn’t satisfy the curious fawn.

She came walking right up to me, stepped over my legs, and began sniffing my rubber boots. There must have been something there that she liked, and she licked my boots for nearly a minute before tiring of that activity. She walked off down the trail with her month, and I found that if you don’t move, odd things can happen.

Great tasting rubber hunting books after being sprayed to remove odor.

Several years ago while bow hunting the rut just before the firearm season opener, I watched a love-crazed buck do a really stupid thing. He had been chasing a doe all over a green field, back into the swamp, around my tree stand, and the mature doe was just barely keeping ahead of the amorous buck.

He was grunting every step of the way, and sounded much like a barnyard oinker, and occasionally he would let her get farther away and then put on a burst of speed. She was about three steps ahead of the randy buck, and had his nose to the ground like a bird dog on a hot pheasant track.

She was going full out, throwing a few zigs and zags into her run, and the buck never lifted his head to see where he was going. She kicked it into another gear, came to a fence, and cleared it with a fine jump that was a thing of beauty. The clueless buck wasn’t quite as graceful and pretty.

He was so intent on staying with the soon-to-be-bred doe that he never looked up. He ran slam into a wood fence post with his head, and fell backwards on his rump. He staggered to his feet, wobbled around for a minute, visibly trying to figure out what happened, and once the cobwebs cleared away from what had to be an aching head, off he went at a high lope after the doe.

I’ve studied deer for more than a half-century, and have seen them do some pretty strange things. Some of what they do may stagger your imagination, but for me, nothing a whitetail does surprises me anymore.

Even when they stick their head in my shooting window. How cool is that?

The thing that many anti-hunters are against are wounded animals.

I have people contact me, and some say they are ill-prepared for the shot. A bad hit is the result of jittery nerves, buck fever and the inability to shoot straight when an opportunity presents itself.

People who regularly hunt make killing shots. Most of them hunt with a bow, even during firearm seasons, but others also hunt with a muzzleloader or center-fire rifle. When they aim at a deer, and pull the trigger, the animal goes down and dies instantly.

Good shooting often means taking your time & not hurrying a shot.

There is no long, lingering chases to finish off the animal. There is no long hours spent blood-trailing a deer for miles. There are no cases of someone taking a hasty shot, and making a bad hit.

These hunters have one thing in common: they can shoot straight, and they don't miss. One man has shot eleven bucks, and he takes only one each year. Five were taken with a bow and none ran over 75 yards, and four died when the arrow sliced through both lunes..

The other two deer were taken with a flat-shooting rifle with a 140-grain pointed soft point. Both deer were hit low behind the front shoulder, and both deer died instantly where they stood.

Another man shot a big 10-point this past fall after he had hunted the animal into December. The buck made a mistake, walked past the hunter, and one arrow killed the buck. It went just 50 yards and tipped over.

What do these men have that other sportsmen don't have? They have the patience to wait for a clear shot, and the ability to put an arrow or bullet in that spot.

They practice shooting all year. The centerfire rifle usually doesn't come out of the gun safe until just a week before the Nov. 15 firearm opener. They may shoot the rifle a dozen times in one day before the season opener, and they are familiar with their bow or firearm. They know that when the rifle's cross-hairs center the heart-lung area that the deer is dead but doesn't know it just yet.

Shooting once or twice a year won’t make you a good shot.

An old hunting question has been around for more years than I can remember, and it goes like this: People don't ask, can you? They ask, did you?

They know that when they put the bow sight behind the front shoulder of a buck, that animal will go down. They shoot regularly, never exceed their shooting abilities by taking long bow shots, and they know how and when to draw and shoot. The deer they shoot are unaware of danger because these hunters plays the wind every day.

These men and women are not casual hunters. They work hard to learn as much about deer as possible. They know how and where deer travel, and soon learn when the animals will come near their stand.

They never take hurried shots, and never take a low-percentage shot. They know that tomorrow may offer a better shot, and are willing to wait until all conditions are in their favor. They never make a mistake when shooting game, and they respect those animals they hunt.

I once shot a 6X5 elk in New Mexico at 350 yards. Elk are big critters, and when my Swarovski scope's crosshairs settled low behind the bull's front shoulder just as he finished bugling and he'd emptied his lung, the trigger was squeezed and the bull died instantly

Another time I shot a very nice mule deer across a side canyon along the north rim of Arizona's Grand Canyon with a 7mm Magnum at 450 yards. One shot, and down he went.

Hunters must practice, and I don't pretend to specialize in long shotsm but I only shoot when I know from past experience that I can make that shot. Some of it is practice, and most of it is knowing that the shot can be made. Both of these shots, no brag. were instant kills.

Hunters who can do this on a regular basis have no need to brag about their prowess, never make the deer appear dumb or stupid, and they never show the animal any disrespect. Many have learned over time that hunting means more than just killing, and also know that the meat from these animals will grace their table all year 'round.

Practice shooting, but perfect practice every shot, should be your goal.

They know that hunting is something more, much more, than killing a small deer with tiny antlers. They are willing to pass up young bucks, knowing that two or three years on a buck will allow them to take a trophy buck of their dreams.

They are hunters, 365 days per year, and that is why many are so deadly in the autumn woods. They have the patience, skill and practice to do everything right. They don't have to think about it but just react to the situation.

Thinking too hard on anything can make it more difficult than it should be. And that, my friends, is a direct quote.

Bucks often bed down in open grassland where visibility is good.

Looking for a good buck, not a 1 1/2 year old.

The problem with hunting big bucks is few shooting opportunities.

It would have been an easy shot on the little guy.

An easy shot but again I passed on this buck.

Patterning this animal was easy. His buddies were much more difficult.

Sometimes all we see is a glimpse of a big buck. It has to be enough.

I could feel the buck behind me. I don’t know how but I knew he was there.

It was one of those situation where I had to wait for the buck to move.

I didn’t move, and never did poaching this buck occur to me. I play by the rules.