Jo, Meghan and I arrive at deer camp about 4 pm saturday. I sit my stand, Meghan hunts river feeder, Jo sets camp and starts fire/supper.
Nobody sees nothing saturday afternoon.
A fat T-bone, ranch taters (with onions, mushrooms and a jalapeno) and an ear of corn take my mind off not killing a single deer for the family freezer all year (doe and spike only this weekend).
Over sleep sunday morning, get in stand at 8 am and Jo goes to hunt river, NOTHING!!!! Now I'm starting to panic.
We cut/load about 2 cords of mesquite, breaking 1/2 way through for a few hotdogs and a cold one.
Decide were going all ou and hunting sunday evening, which we have not done in years, after all, season closes at dark.
I hunt my stand, Jo and Meghan hunt river feeder. We text back and forth for an hour about how nothing but stupid turkey around both feeders.
Then I hear it, the faint, light footsteps of deer through the shinnery oaks behind me, down wind.
Jo texts that theres 4 doe at the river feeder, I reply, for the love of God shoot something!
A spike and small 6 pt. run 10 feet downwind of me headed for the feeder. JACKPOT!
Boom! I let me 45-70 sound off, spike down! WOO HOO! Then BOOM! That's got to be Jo's 270. Yup, she text "doe down". BOOM! Again the 270. (missed 2nd doe).
My little 6 runs around in circles, apparently stirring up a doe 100 yards from my feeder, she comes in, BOOM! 45-70 sounds off, doe down!
3 deer for the freezer on last evening of hunt.
I text Jo to get the Jeep and come get me and my 2, then we'll go get hers. She and Meghan pull up and my dead doe performs a miracle.
She has been lating dead for 30 minutes, with a 45-70 hole, but stands up and runs off!
Long story short, I track her 2.5 miles, 9 bloody bed down spots, only to loose her due to the darkness.
We get my spike and her doe loaded and head home, pulling into my barn about 10 pm on a sunday night.
Was glad to have some meat for the freezer. High is 70 today, luckily Jo's off so she can skin, quarter, debone and get it all iced down in time.
I'd rather die myself than loose such a magnificent animal, but I guess we should chalk that up as a lesson learned and be grateful for the time shared out doors with family and God's majestic beast, as Uncle Ted puts it.
