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Finally broke in my 54!

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Joined
Jun 11, 2009
Messages
335
Reaction score
1,011
Location
Fair Grove, MO
I finally got to break in my 54 caliber flintlock this past Saturday. My buddy, John Pruitt, made me this rifle last year but the deer did not cooperate during the 2017 season so it was not properly christened. Last weekend was the opening of Missouri's firearms season and I had high hopes of getting 'er done then due to all the deer I had been seeing while hunting with my longbow. Alas, it was not to be. I think my brother, Dale, secretly soaked all my clothes in deer repellent because I couldn't find one the entire weekend that would come any closer than 150 yards. This past weekend, however, was a completely different story!

I started Saturday morning hunting at my favorite spot on our farm; the oak laden ridge behind our barn. Way before daylight, I drove partway to the top, got my gear, and then walked the rest of the way to my honey hole at the west end of the ridge. There is skid trail leading to an old logging loading ground there and just to the west of that loading ground is an oak tree flat that deer and turkey just love to visit. There are steep hollers on three sides of the flat and deer bed up in all of them. While it was dead calm at that time, the wind was supposed to be from the south that day so I went to my South Wind Tree and started up it with my climbing stand. It was just getting light by the time I got settled in and it was so still you could hear every squirrel within a 500 yard radius. It was a morning that hunters dream about!

About 15 minutes after it was light enough for me to clearly see my front sight, the show began. A buck was chasing a doe about 70 yards to the west of me and about 5 minutes later, a dandy buck came out of Tater Cave Holler to join in the fun. I heard all of them go off into the cedar glade that is on the western edge of the flat and I just hoped that somebody would come back to visit me.

Thirty minutes later, one of the bucks came back and started heading towards me. There is an old woven wire fence in the woods that marks our western border and the deer usually walk right next to it, on either side, as they come off the flat. This buck, however, was about 15 yards off the fence, and his track looked like he was going to be down in Tater Cave Holler before I had a chance to shoot. I grunted at him a couple times to try and turn him but he paid me no mind. I finally got him to stop but wasn't crazy about my shot due to dim light and some brush between us. However, I didn't think I was going to get a better shot because he was soon going to be out of sight. I could see his vitals so I put them in my sights and pulled the trigger. I was rewarded with a loud BOOM and a blue cloud of smoke but when the cloud thinned the buck was not lying dead on the ground but standing about 10 feet to the left of where he had been no worse for the wear. He saluted me with a white flag and then walked stiff legged down into the holler non-plussed by all the commotion. I guess that brush was a little thicker than I thought it was! Later, when I got down, I checked for 30 minutes to find any evidence that he had been wounded. The best I could tell, nothing was hurt except my pride and that was trounced on with each step I could hear that buck make as he walked down the holler towards the creek.

I reloaded my rifle as I listened to deer thrash around in the woods all around me and I knew it was just a matter of time until I got another chance. About 45 minutes passed until I heard one finally coming my direction. I looked towards the source of the noise to the east and saw a fat doe come out into the loading ground and visit the salt lick there. She would make fine freezer company for the one I had killed earlier with my longbow. All I needed was for her to come my direction and stay in the clear.

She slowly worked my way and then changed direction so that she would be coming in behind me. I stood up in the stand and turned around to get ready to shoot. She then changed direction again and was coming straight towards me. My problem now wasn't distance or brush but figuring out how to shoot her so that I would damage the least amount of meat. With her at a distance of about 10 yards, I was afraid of getting powder burns on her fur! I finally decided on a neck shot, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger. The deer dropped like a rock and I was thankful to be blessed with such an easy harvest.

I took my time getting all my gear stowed away and lowered and then I began my descent. After my feet touched Terra Firma and I was sure the deer was dead, I took the long 30 foot walk to my prize. However, when I flipped my doe over to get ready to get her out of the woods, I was surprised to see she had sprouted two tiny horns on her head. It wasn't a doe after all but a little buck! Whatever the case, I gave thanks to the deer's spirit for the meat he would provide my family and got ready for the rest of the program. It was only a short drag to a place where I could get my truck to so I had the deer loaded in short order. The meat is now resting in a cooler of ice and it will be deboned, bagged, and put away tomorrow. Any deer is a trophy to me when I take it with a primitive weapon and I am already looking forward to a mess of fried backstrap, fried taters, and biscuits!

Darren

1xcndQR.jpg
 
THANK YOU DARREN,
THAT WAS ONE OF THE BETTER HINTING STORIES I'VE READ IN SOME LONG TIME..
I ALSO ENJOYED THE PLACE NAME OF "TATER CAVE HOLLER".


TRAPPED IN A BIG CITY, NAMES LIKE THAT TAKE ME FAR AWAY.

DUTCH SCHOULTZ

I finally got to break in my 54 caliber flintlock this past Saturday. My buddy, John Pruitt, made me this rifle last year but the deer did not cooperate during the 2017 season so it was not properly christened. Last weekend was the opening of Missouri's firearms season and I had high hopes of getting 'er done then due to all the deer I had been seeing while hunting with my longbow. Alas, it was not to be. I think my brother, Dale, secretly soaked all my clothes in deer repellent because I couldn't find one the entire weekend that would come any closer than 150 yards. This past weekend, however, was a completely different story!

I started Saturday morning hunting at my favorite spot on our farm; the oak laden ridge behind our barn. Way before daylight, I drove partway to the top, got my gear, and then walked the rest of the way to my honey hole at the west end of the ridge. There is skid trail leading to an old logging loading ground there and just to the west of that loading ground is an oak tree flat that deer and turkey just love to visit. There are steep hollers on three sides of the flat and deer bed up in all of them. While it was dead calm at that time, the wind was supposed to be from the south that day so I went to my South Wind Tree and started up it with my climbing stand. It was just getting light by the time I got settled in and it was so still you could hear every squirrel within a 500 yard radius. It was a morning that hunters dream about!

About 15 minutes after it was light enough for me to clearly see my front sight, the show began. A buck was chasing a doe about 70 yards to the west of me and about 5 minutes later, a dandy buck came out of Tater Cave Holler to join in the fun. I heard all of them go off into the cedar glade that is on the western edge of the flat and I just hoped that somebody would come back to visit me.

Thirty minutes later, one of the bucks came back and started heading towards me. There is an old woven wire fence in the woods that marks our western border and the deer usually walk right next to it, on either side, as they come off the flat. This buck, however, was about 15 yards off the fence, and his track looked like he was going to be down in Tater Cave Holler before I had a chance to shoot. I grunted at him a couple times to try and turn him but he paid me no mind. I finally got him to stop but wasn't crazy about my shot due to dim light and some brush between us. However, I didn't think I was going to get a better shot because he was soon going to be out of sight. I could see his vitals so I put them in my sights and pulled the trigger. I was rewarded with a loud BOOM and a blue cloud of smoke but when the cloud thinned the buck was not lying dead on the ground but standing about 10 feet to the left of where he had been no worse for the wear. He saluted me with a white flag and then walked stiff legged down into the holler non-plussed by all the commotion. I guess that brush was a little thicker than I thought it was! Later, when I got down, I checked for 30 minutes to find any evidence that he had been wounded. The best I could tell, nothing was hurt except my pride and that was trounced on with each step I could hear that buck make as he walked down the holler towards the creek.

I reloaded my rifle as I listened to deer thrash around in the woods all around me and I knew it was just a matter of time until I got another chance. About 45 minutes passed until I heard one finally coming my direction. I looked towards the source of the noise to the east and saw a fat doe come out into the loading ground and visit the salt lick there. She would make fine freezer company for the one I had killed earlier with my longbow. All I needed was for her to come my direction and stay in the clear.

She slowly worked my way and then changed direction so that she would be coming in behind me. I stood up in the stand and turned around to get ready to shoot. She then changed direction again and was coming straight towards me. My problem now wasn't distance or brush but figuring out how to shoot her so that I would damage the least amount of meat. With her at a distance of about 10 yards, I was afraid of getting powder burns on her fur! I finally decided on a neck shot, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger. The deer dropped like a rock and I was thankful to be blessed with such an easy harvest.

I took my time getting all my gear stowed away and lowered and then I began my descent. After my feet touched Terra Firma and I was sure the deer was dead, I took the long 30 foot walk to my prize. However, when I flipped my doe over to get ready to get her out of the woods, I was surprised to see she had sprouted two tiny horns on her head. It wasn't a doe after all but a little buck! Whatever the case, I gave thanks to the deer's spirit for the meat he would provide my family and got ready for the rest of the program. It was only a short drag to a place where I could get my truck to so I had the deer loaded in short order. The meat is now resting in a cooler of ice and it will be deboned, bagged, and put away tomorrow. Any deer is a trophy to me when I take it with a primitive weapon and I am already looking forward to a mess of fried backstrap, fried taters, and biscuits!

Darren

1xcndQR.jpg
 
Great job. I am a spike fan. I always name him, Sir Francis Spikington. This year I pressure canned Sir Francis. Glad you got yours!

Pete Davis in Virginia
 
THANK YOU DARREN,
THAT WAS ONE OF THE BETTER HINTING STORIES I'VE READ IN SOME LONG TIME..
I ALSO ENJOYED THE PLACE NAME OF "TATER CAVE HOLLER".


TRAPPED IN A BIG CITY, NAMES LIKE THAT TAKE ME FAR AWAY.

DUTCH SCHOULTZ

Dutch,

The reason for the name is because there is a cave in a cedar glade on the northeast side of that holler where folks from that area would store their taters for the winter. You can go in it and still see names written in the hardened mud on the walls signifying that the space below and pile of taters belonged to family such and such. I haven't been in it in years as it is a dead cave now and apt to cave in. When I was a kid, though, it was alive and my brother and I spent many an hour playing in it.

Darren
 

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