It had been awhile since I had killed a decent buck and I was determined to get one this year. However, I wasn't putting in the time, I knew I needed to to get a good deer--a third of archery season nearly gone and I had hunted only twice.
On opening day of Primitive Arms Season here in Oklahoma, I spent all day in my new ground blind location. It had been raining off and on all day (good thing I was in the tent blind). I had seen 10 does and two bucks (non-shooters) and time was running out. I was beginning to gather things up in the blind when I scanned the area again, and caught a glimpse of this one coming. He was taking his time and I was running out of time (daylight time) and he wasn't in range. I had been practicing quite a bit with my muzzle loader and I had determined that I wouldn't shoot at anything past 150 yards.
I turned my scope down to 3x for better visibility and he finally came into comfortable range for my Traditions in-line 45 caliber. Using a broom stick I had left in the blind as a rest, I made the shot. Of course the smoke just boiled and I couldn't see a thing. When the smoke finally cleared, all I could see was the tall grass where he had been standing. I felt like it was a good shot, but you never know for sure until you see them on the ground.
I dug my gutting knife and flashlight (it was getting dark quick) out of my backpack. It wasn't until I got about half way to him that I saw the tip of his antlers and then the white of his belly. I had stepped it off as I went--123 yard--and he had fallen where he stood. He field dressed 146 lbs (the third largest I have ever killed) and his rack was the second best I'd ever taken.
On opening day of Primitive Arms Season here in Oklahoma, I spent all day in my new ground blind location. It had been raining off and on all day (good thing I was in the tent blind). I had seen 10 does and two bucks (non-shooters) and time was running out. I was beginning to gather things up in the blind when I scanned the area again, and caught a glimpse of this one coming. He was taking his time and I was running out of time (daylight time) and he wasn't in range. I had been practicing quite a bit with my muzzle loader and I had determined that I wouldn't shoot at anything past 150 yards.
I turned my scope down to 3x for better visibility and he finally came into comfortable range for my Traditions in-line 45 caliber. Using a broom stick I had left in the blind as a rest, I made the shot. Of course the smoke just boiled and I couldn't see a thing. When the smoke finally cleared, all I could see was the tall grass where he had been standing. I felt like it was a good shot, but you never know for sure until you see them on the ground.
I dug my gutting knife and flashlight (it was getting dark quick) out of my backpack. It wasn't until I got about half way to him that I saw the tip of his antlers and then the white of his belly. I had stepped it off as I went--123 yard--and he had fallen where he stood. He field dressed 146 lbs (the third largest I have ever killed) and his rack was the second best I'd ever taken.
