Dan Geddings: A good recovery

He hissed into the phone, "Dude, I just killed a monster buck." I could hear the excitement in his voice. Then he added, "I'm not kidding, he's huge." I asked, "Where are you?" His answer surprised me, "I'm in the club stand on the new land." The new land hasn't been hunted much.

"Oh no, he's getting back up, and I've shot all my bullets." He added, "I only had three rounds." I was pulling on my boots by now and heading out the door. "Don't worry, I'm coming," I said with as much reassurance as I could muster. "Just don't push him," I warned. "No, I'm not getting out the stand," he added. Then he said, "There's another buck coming, and I don't have any more bullets."

There was a misty rain on the windshield, and I was hopeful that it would stop before I got there, but it got worse. When I was almost there, he sent me a text, "You have to park by my four-wheeler and walk to the stand. Might need yer rifle." I answered, "Okay, my rifle is in the truck, and I'm coming in."

The rain was heavier now, and I'm not a rain-loving creature, but I knew I could tolerate it for a little while. I parked at the four-wheeler, got my rifle and a jacket and headed over the hill. Shannon was still sitting in the stand. "He laid back down in that tall grass," he said, and pointed across the cut-over. "The other buck was smaller," he added.

He climbed down from the stand, and we started across the cut-over. It was rough going. We crossed logs and limbs and pushed through heavy brush. Shannon had left his empty rifle in the stand but had his pistol in his hand. I lagged back a step or two with my rifle. We stopped at the edge of a big patch of panic grass. "He laid down here," Shannon whispered.

Twenty yards to our right front, I saw an antler move in the grass, then the buck's head came up. I said softly, but rather sternly, "You better shoot him," but Shannon hesitated. "I think you better shoot him," I repeated. The buck scrambled to his feet and took off across the cut-over at a hard run. I brought my rifle up but had trouble finding him in the scope. I finally got on him and took a shot but missed. The buck went over a slight rise and disappeared.

Shannon was very despondent and realized the buck was not as big as he thought. We found a little blood where the buck had laid down, but it was impossible to find any more blood or tracks in the thick growth of the cut-over. I realized that the deer probably crossed a timber road just ahead and found running tracks there in the road, with few drops of dark-colored blood.

We followed the tracks down the road another 100 yards with Shannon slightly ahead of me. I saw that the buck had turned back into the cut-over, but before I could say anything Shannon said, "There he goes." The deer was up again and headed toward the big woods. Shannon fired at him several times with the pistol. I took a shot with the rifle, but missed again. I made a mental note of where the deer entered the timber and stopped Shannon.

"That deer is hurt, and he'll lay down again when he gets in the woods. Let's back out and give him some time. Go home, eat lunch, and call me when you're ready to come back. I think he'll be down by then, and we'll find him." There was still a soft rain falling when I headed home.

We all try to make a good shot and take an animal with a clean kill, but sometimes it goes bad. I was determined to come back and make a good recovery on that buck.

In a couple of hours, my phone rang, and I knew it was Shannon. "Yeah, let's go," I answered. Shannon had texted the group about the buck, and Ed called to offer some help. He met us at the land and had his son Thomas and his daughter Ema with him. He thought it could be a teachable moment for them to be part of a wild game recovery. Thankfully the rain had stopped by now.

We made a plan. Ed and the kids would stay and watch the power line, and Shannon and I would do a grid type search in the woods. We got lucky, and Shannon found the buck about 50 yards into the woods. It wasn't a monster buck, but it was a good one.

The buck was still warm and not stiff. He had been shot through the midsection, so we field dressed him there on the ground. Young Thomas helped. He and Ema were fascinated with the process. It was a good recovery.

Email Dan Geddings at cdgeddings@gmail.com.