Sorry you didn't find your deer. I have been there many times and learned that diligence and hard work DO pay off ...sometimes.
Since early in the Summer, I have several trail cam pictures of the buck known as the "Swamp Buck". I could tell from the pictures over the course of several months. That he was on old deer, that was past his prime, but, a dandy none the less. He never showed himself during hunting hours but would frequent the area. I shot a decent buck the first week of November with a second tag. So, I was pretty content with harvesting one of the big bucks with archery equipment.
The days went past without the sightings of any of the three big ones that I knew of. The rut was a running a little late this year and was pretty mild compared to most other years. I first caught a glimpse of him on November 25th. He was a brief visitor to one of my rattling sequences but never offered me with a shot. He vanished as fast as he came in. I could do nothing but watch.
On Thanksgiving morning, He came in to check some does that were hanging out under my tree stand. I came to full draw and had him broadside at 22 yards. I released the arrow which went into slow motion. I watched as the arrow landed high and back of where I would have liked for it to went. I knew then, I had made a bad shot. I sat for over an hour in my stand trying to relive what just happened.
We left him for several hours before beginning to track him. I recruited some help of a couple buddies and we started tracking him. We had gone close to a mile with fair to good blood. We went, as far as where, he had bedded down. He had since gotten up and was on the move again. We lost our blood trail and decided the best would be to let him go until morning.
I continued to look myself on Friday. I caught up on some new blood. I instantly called upon my buddy to help. We spent the rest of the day on our hands and knees thru briar thickets, trying to put the pieces together. We attemped to stay on blood until it was too dark to see anymore.
Saturday brought 2" of new snow fall which pretty much whiped out any hopes of finding new blood or him for that matter. I spent the day in the woods looking for coyotes or magpies, In hopes that they would take me to my buck. We had lost any hope of trailing him with the snow on the ground.
On Sunday, I called up a couple of my other buddies, to continue the search. I had done some online research, made some google earth maps of the area, and found the owner of the piece of ground. We had a good feeling about he might have headed into. I gained permission and we could not find him anywhere. So we resorted to making circles checking every brush pile or cattail slough as best we could. Sunday evening came and we had all but given up. I had counted on him being dead somewhere and I would always have too wonder where he was? Is he alive or dead?
I made it out to my treestand about 2:45 pm on the 27th of December. I settled in with my 35 Remington lever action across my lap. I wanted to do take a nice one with my bow but had given up on that also.Season was winding down and I made a compramise with myself. I said "I will not shoot one past 40 yards".
I began to see some does heading my way out of the bedding area, to the north. As 10-12 does walked under my stand, I noticed some more coming. Along with them was a buck that I knew instantly when I saw his horns. It was the buck that I had hit with my bow. I wasn't sure until I saw the tuft of hair where the arrow had entered. I was relieved just to see him alive and well. He was acting like a normal buck would with no apperant injuries. There was another much bigger buck with him that was a true shooter! But wanted to fininsh the deal, I started almost a month ago to the day.
It took nearly an hour for him to make it down to my stand. He came within the 40 yards limit that I had put on myself. A doe and a fawn were under my stand, which, kept his attention. I raised my rifle and pulled back the hammer. He knew something was up and froze. I held the crosshairs on his shoulder. At the report of the rifle he nearly fell but kept his feet. I said" Ohhh no... NOT AGAIN!. He went a mere 50 yards before he fell. Even with a pefect shot, the big ol' ugly buck was still a pretty tough customer.
I gave him a few mintues to expire and went to retrieve him. The Saga of the "swamp buck" was laying at my feet. All the history and the worries were there with him. He was not as big as I what I could recall on the morning of Thanksgiving. But it was my buck just the same.
I am excited to put another good buck above the fire place. But, this one will hold something special. He tried he hardest, and I can rest knowing, I tried my hardest as well. He is at home where he should have been a month ago, if I would have done my job correctly. I guess, if nothing else, it shows that being relentlous pays off.
The Swampy Buck aka "Swampy"
Enterance hole complete with shaved hair...
The exit hole... (shooting an Grim Reaper Razorcut)
The holes were both scabbed over and appeared to be healing nicely.
Trail camera pics of "Swampy"...
It amazing to see just how hard a rut is on an ugly old whitetail buck. If you look at his trail cam pictures compared to the pictures from tonight. You can see how broken up his G3's are. Both are broken off nearly in half, from the end of September.
Hope you enjoy...