FrankenMauser
New member
So, we have the typical "best shot" or "most impressive shot" threads a couple times a year.
But I'd like to depart slightly from that. I'm curious: What has been your favorite or most memorable shot on a game animal?
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It's tough to pick, and my choice might change day-to-day; but at least right now, my personal favorite was a shot on a doe antelope. Part of it was the stalk. Part of it was the shot. A small part was the aftermath.
I spent at least an hour stalking a herd of pronghorn, by way of a jog down a dry riverbed, that we had spotted from camp while packing up to leave. They may have only been 800 yards from camp, but I covered at least twice that in the winding, twisted, meandering riverbed. Half way through the stalk, I was nearly busted by two wandering bucks, at about 50 yards, that sighted me in the sagebrush on the bank while I was trying to see how close I was. To get them to lose interest, I bobbed up and down like a drunken duck and wobbled my head back and forth like a fox tearing apart a prized chicken. I also took off my sweater and wiggled it around until I tossed it onto some sagebrush. Antelope, while blessed with great eyesight, are stupid and easily confused, so they ignored me and went about their business in a slow walk toward the herd.
Once I finally reached what I determined to be the closest I could get to the herd through the riverbed, I crawled through the sagebrush on the bank; carefully planted myself behind a sagebrush with a large V-notch in the middle, at the edge of the grass plain; and set my .30-06 up on a set of home-brew shooting sticks my brother (cornbush) put together. I figured a neck shot would be good enough. If I was lucky and judged the range correctly, it would put the bullet square in the brain. Knowing that the .30-06 was sighted for a different load (8" high at 100 yards with this one!), I pulled half way up the neck with a good-looking doe staring at me head-on, and squeezed off a shot. All I heard was the report of the rifle.
As the rifle settled from recoil, my target was gone, and the rest of the herd was hauling butt out of there. They didn't know what had happened, but, honestly, neither did I. I racked another round into the chamber for good measure.
I watched anxiously, trying to determine if the shot had been successful, and just couldn't tell. The antelope had stopped abruptly and were still milling around less than 50 yards away, as if they'd been surprised but not spooked badly enough to make them run to the next county.
I only had one tag left to fill, and didn't want to drop another antelope if the one I had been aiming at was already on the ground. Still hidden behind the sagebrush, I kept scanning with the scope; but couldn't make out my target due to some mild swells in the land (I was in a low spot).
Eventually, I decided that I just needed to stand up and walk toward the intended target's location, to see if here was a body in the grass. As I stood, the herd took notice, and, to my surprise, actually started walking towards me. I got a little closer, and so did the goats.
As I crested a small mound on the grassland, I finally saw it: There was a gleaming white butt lying motionless in the 6" sagebrush and 12" grass.
The shot connected!
As I approached the animal to make sure it wasn't suffering, the herd started coming closer. When I got to the dead doe, saw that it was a clean kill, and crouched down to pay last respects, they came even closer. There were at least twenty antelope just 25 yards or less from me, now. Until my hunting party showed up to help with hauling the carcass back to camp, the rest of the herd just hung out, desperately trying to see what I was doing to this doe. I talked to them, yelled at them, and made random, wild gestures to scare them off. It didn't make a difference. I can only assume that it was the lead doe, since I've only ever seen antelope act like that when the lead doe was taken out. (And I do try to take the biggest does possible, when hunting for meat.)
As my brothers figured out how to get across the riverbed to my location with the trucks, I grabbed the doe's ears and picked her head up to see where I had hit.
Bingo!
The bullet hit her square in the bridge of the nose, passed through the brain stem, and exited at the base of the skull, dead-center. Total annihilation and a perfect, instant kill.
But I'd like to depart slightly from that. I'm curious: What has been your favorite or most memorable shot on a game animal?
------
It's tough to pick, and my choice might change day-to-day; but at least right now, my personal favorite was a shot on a doe antelope. Part of it was the stalk. Part of it was the shot. A small part was the aftermath.
I spent at least an hour stalking a herd of pronghorn, by way of a jog down a dry riverbed, that we had spotted from camp while packing up to leave. They may have only been 800 yards from camp, but I covered at least twice that in the winding, twisted, meandering riverbed. Half way through the stalk, I was nearly busted by two wandering bucks, at about 50 yards, that sighted me in the sagebrush on the bank while I was trying to see how close I was. To get them to lose interest, I bobbed up and down like a drunken duck and wobbled my head back and forth like a fox tearing apart a prized chicken. I also took off my sweater and wiggled it around until I tossed it onto some sagebrush. Antelope, while blessed with great eyesight, are stupid and easily confused, so they ignored me and went about their business in a slow walk toward the herd.
Once I finally reached what I determined to be the closest I could get to the herd through the riverbed, I crawled through the sagebrush on the bank; carefully planted myself behind a sagebrush with a large V-notch in the middle, at the edge of the grass plain; and set my .30-06 up on a set of home-brew shooting sticks my brother (cornbush) put together. I figured a neck shot would be good enough. If I was lucky and judged the range correctly, it would put the bullet square in the brain. Knowing that the .30-06 was sighted for a different load (8" high at 100 yards with this one!), I pulled half way up the neck with a good-looking doe staring at me head-on, and squeezed off a shot. All I heard was the report of the rifle.
As the rifle settled from recoil, my target was gone, and the rest of the herd was hauling butt out of there. They didn't know what had happened, but, honestly, neither did I. I racked another round into the chamber for good measure.
I watched anxiously, trying to determine if the shot had been successful, and just couldn't tell. The antelope had stopped abruptly and were still milling around less than 50 yards away, as if they'd been surprised but not spooked badly enough to make them run to the next county.
I only had one tag left to fill, and didn't want to drop another antelope if the one I had been aiming at was already on the ground. Still hidden behind the sagebrush, I kept scanning with the scope; but couldn't make out my target due to some mild swells in the land (I was in a low spot).
Eventually, I decided that I just needed to stand up and walk toward the intended target's location, to see if here was a body in the grass. As I stood, the herd took notice, and, to my surprise, actually started walking towards me. I got a little closer, and so did the goats.
As I crested a small mound on the grassland, I finally saw it: There was a gleaming white butt lying motionless in the 6" sagebrush and 12" grass.
The shot connected!
As I approached the animal to make sure it wasn't suffering, the herd started coming closer. When I got to the dead doe, saw that it was a clean kill, and crouched down to pay last respects, they came even closer. There were at least twenty antelope just 25 yards or less from me, now. Until my hunting party showed up to help with hauling the carcass back to camp, the rest of the herd just hung out, desperately trying to see what I was doing to this doe. I talked to them, yelled at them, and made random, wild gestures to scare them off. It didn't make a difference. I can only assume that it was the lead doe, since I've only ever seen antelope act like that when the lead doe was taken out. (And I do try to take the biggest does possible, when hunting for meat.)
As my brothers figured out how to get across the riverbed to my location with the trucks, I grabbed the doe's ears and picked her head up to see where I had hit.
Bingo!
The bullet hit her square in the bridge of the nose, passed through the brain stem, and exited at the base of the skull, dead-center. Total annihilation and a perfect, instant kill.