speardeer

I have had to use the .22 pistol on more than one occasion and was glad I had thought to carry it.

A few years back I came up on the sister-in-law in a real ugly situation.

She had shot and wounded a nice buck and fired the remaining rounds from her .243, (all misses).
When I walked up I was greeted to a scene straight out of a horror show. Crazy eyed insane woman covered in blood standing over the poor deer trying to bash it's brains in with a big rock.

Thankfully, for all those involved (especially the deer, I THINK), I had my .38 snubby and mercifully administered the coup degrace.

Always carry enough ammo.
 
Always carry enough ammo.
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Zackly why I leave the truck with 6 rounds of .30-30 in the Marlin and 4 back ups in my pocket.
We have a 2 per day limit so I figure if 5 per deer are not enuff... I need to go back to deer killin' school.:eek:
Brent
 
Two cases I guess...

I was 15, and it was my 2nd year bowhunting. Now, dad and I never killed too aweful many deer. We just didn't have the land for it, but we killed atleast one a piece every year. It was mid-day(we sit all day in the treestands), and I heard him shoot. We didn't hunt but about 100yds apart at that time. I heard a good solid hit, cool. I hear a second shot, it glances thru the trees. Third shot, rock, branches, tree. And so on for 3 more shots until the quiver was empty. Now, I'm looking and straining trying to figure out what army of deer dad had run into. As I'm looking I see dad climbing down, then running. So I get down. Then one more shot. I get up to dad. And he had clipped a limb and is first arrow had hit the doe in the back near the hips. He used the rest of the remaining arrows as she was trying to crawl out of there. It was the funniest thing...later. I can still remember hearing those arrows bouncing thru the woods.

A little worse...I had a buddy hunting down from NC with me in SC. He's a decent shot and a persistent hunter. He has no sense of direction, whatsoever. Once he gets 15yds from the tree, truck, or road...lost. He also can't tell the difference between a yearling doe and a mature doe. When I use the term yearling, I'm refering to just born that year. Well, he can't judge size...at all. Notorious for shooting little ones. Well he shot one. When I got to him, he had no blood and no arrow. He showed me where it was when he shot, and said it went that way. Well, it wasn't that way, it was the complete opposite direction. It was still alive when I go to it. Just too weak to do anything. It might have weighed 40 lbs, wet. I ended up running my knife into it's chest, watching it struggle to stay alive. Now I've killed hogs with knives and spears. Killed countless other critters. But that little doe...it will never leave me.
 
If you ever get the chance and can find one read the book, "Tigrero" by Sasha Siemel, he hunted Jaguars in the Matto Grosso of Brazil with a pack of cur hounds, the dogs would corner the Jaguar, and Siemel would walk up and induce the big cat to charge him and at the last moment he would impale them on the end of his spear with them thrashing around and trying to get down the handle of the spear to him before they died. Probably one of the greatest hunters of all time.

Although he did not use a spear, another great book is "Maneaters of Kumaon" by Jim Corbett of India. He hunted man eating Tigers and Leopards in India alone and on foot in the jungle. These cats literally had killed scores of people and some even hundreds of people, and he comes close to being killed himself on many occasions. Probably one of the bravest and greatest hunters of all time. Both these great men died I believe in the 1950's.
 
I remember "Tigrero" from when it first came out in paperback. "Maneaters", I vaguely recall, was in our junior high school library.

Worth the read...
 
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