Righto then, you asked for it...
I have been hunting on this property for the past 7 years and I have been nursing these deer through a drought and protecting them where I can but now we are in a time of plenty so they must be controlled. Also they need to be managed so I work on the formula that if I cull 3 genetically inferior heads for every trophy I shoot then the limited number of females get more chance of being covered by a dominant superior male.
I am telling you this up front to save any arguments over ethics or over shooting the place, etc. I assure you that as much as I love hunting I love the deer more and will ultimately do what is in their favour and will always practice humane, ethical hunting.
So, after the boar I shot I walked into a place I call "the nursery". It is the convergence of three steep sided gullies covered in thick dogwood (brush). I call it that because I always see many does with young at foot and they seem to act co operatively to look after them which means playtime for the fawns which is incredible to watch. At this time of the year, the rut, it also draws many stags.
I could hear a stag grunting up the top of the main hill and thought he would surely retreat to the sancuary of the bottom which is covered in blackberry and dogwood. I almost got a shot at another boar on the way in but the wind tends to swirl in there and it was his lucky day.
I set myself up near a scrape with the video camera ready and waited the stag out. After 2 -3 hours in he came and I saw straight away the his palm had a common genetic flaw, a split down the middle.
As predicted he started to rut and scent mark the scrape, all of which I got on video. At 40 metres he was no match for the roundball which I drove down through his neck and he fell and died within a few metres. My first kill on video which I will endeavour to download. By the way I am attempting to make a traditional muzzleloading hunting video as I think it needs to be done to promote the old ways. When I am finished it I will make it available free to all forum members
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So that was stag number 2. The next encounter was the following morning at the top of the main hill which forms "the nursery" I closed the gap on a very pretty choclate coloured stag which was chasing the girls around over the open hillside. I doe called him to hold him as I closed the distance to 80 yards and he turned nicely broadside and without any rest I put a roundball into his ribcage. To my astonishment he ran about 200 yards before falling in some timber. A litle far back that, taking out his liver and part of a lung, effective nonetheless.
The next morning I drove to a different part of the property and before long got set up on a mature stag and doecalled him in from 200yds to 40yds. I had forgotten my video camera but had a digital SLR with zoom and had a merry time trying to get it to sit upright on the slope of the hill. I missed several opportunities for a broadside shot and by the time I had everything sorted the stag which again had split palms on 1 side and thus marked as a cull, had got a sniff of me in the ever swirling mountain breeze, so it was a frontal shot. The shot felt good but try as I might for most of the day I could not find that deer, nor any blood so who knows? Maybe that will be on the bloopers part of the dvd, or maybe the crows will lead me to him.
You'd think that I would've had enough by now but that night the stags went crazy and obviously the rut was peaking. I had a stag grunting right next to my tent that night about 1am. I put my flashlight on him and his litlle girlfriends were running everywhere.
I got up extra early that morning and drove to the bottom of the valley and walked up a small creek. Stags were grunting in every direction so which one to look at first?? I kept walking up the creek until I came to a beautiful open meadow with a beautiful white stag out grunting like mad trying to impress a white female. The wind got the better of me and they bolted straight uphill into one of the nastiest sections of the farm.
I was going to have an easy walk this morning as I had a party to go to but I knew I was in for it now as I ran up the hill after them. The dogwood was so thick I could only see about 3-5 meters in front of me. Every now and again it would clear a bit but there was a serious lack of tracttion on that hillface so it was a mad scramble. I doecalled all the way up to cover my noise a bit.
Does and pigs were bailing out left, right an centre as I continued upwards. My lungs and legs were burning as I made ground on the stag, slowing down into stalking mode put me within 5 - 10 yards but I couldn't see him. I sweet-talked him and he went off his head, grunting and thrashing. By the time he would present himself the wind and thermals would swirl and off the would run. This happened several times until I got the shot I was after. MISFIRE!
All that work, I was exhausted and a misfire to show for it. I sat down and laughed as I looked downhill and saw how far I had run uphill. My watch told me I had been going for over 2 hours. I thought about launching downhill and quitting but it was the peak of the rut and I know better.
Shortly after I heard him grunting down the bottom of the hill under some thick trees so the mad scramble began in reverse, straight down. At least the rising thermals wouldn't blow it this time. After a few close calls nearly falling down the hillside I was 20 yards above him and doe called. He grunted like mad, then the wind changed. This time the'd really had enough and bolted like heck straight downhill. I readied myself for the stag to enter the clearing and as he did, levelled on his shoulder blades and squeezed off the shot. No misfire this time - a miss instead. Oh well. I had done my best. I watched through the binoculars as they tore off down the mountain and up over the next. I followed for a while hoping they would settle but it was getting very hot and I knew they would shut down for a while now. Better to come back tomorrow.
I sat in the shade and tried to ignore the pain in my knees and rehydrate a bit when I saw a white stag enter the scrub at the bottom of the hill. Oh great another hill climb. As I watched him I saw movement to my right and the original stag I had shot at slipped across the creek and into timber. Ah the penny dropped, I had been chasing two white stags all over this bit of real estate. I started doe calling to hold him as I slid on my backside down back across the creek. He started to walk out and I estimated the range at 120yards uphill. It was as good as it was going to get. I calmed myself, set the trigger and levelled the sights on his spine. I touched the shot off and everything felt good but he bolted into nearby scrub. Seconds later I heard him crashing through it like only a dead tumbling deer can. The 450gn Lyman great plains bullet took the top off his heart, perfect placement.
He was a beautiful stag, white spotted cape, but smaller in body than I realised so not quite as big as he looked but a nice one all the same and worthy of the wall. After caping him and carrying him out I was totally spent but happy with the trophy I had taken.
I still have another week to go on this hunt and will direct my attention to some other types of game, such as foxes, goats, pigs. So will hopefully have some more footage and photographs. I am really starting to get the hang of the Lyman although it's starting to bear a few battle scars from being dragged around the bush. Stay tuned...
