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"Texas
Bounty"
By: W.S. Allen
The alarm sounded at about 4:30, awakening me from a very nice dream,
centering on umbrella drinks, sun tan oil, along with the usual
“suspects.” I’d been invited to a ranch near Junction, TX to hunt white
tail deer. I contemplated not going but my friend insisted I come down
and hunt what he called “The Giant.” “The Giant” was a twelve point,
190-class buck that made his home on my friends’ ranch.
This buck gets around, I’ve heard the same description many time and in
many places. He never gets any bigger or any older, funny how that
works?
I sat in my sanctuary that someone has cleverly disguised as an office,
going over a checklist for this hunt. I write for a living so I spend a
lot of time in my sanctuary/ office so I treated my self when I
decorated it.
Several shotguns in vertical racks adorn tables with two long gun racks
on the back wall. Over the gun racks is the world class Corsican Ram I
took in June of 2006. The gun safe is cleverly camouflaged as a closet.
I have a leather couch, mahogany desk and book shelves. I tell myself,
all of these creature comforts help me think.
I spent a lot of time vertically and horizontally on the couch thinking
about this hunt. At the end of a week, I had everything I thought I
would need to spend some quality time with “The Giant.”
I decided I would use my trusty old 257 Weatherby Mag. Great caliber for
white tail deer. I had binoculars, range finder, knives, camera,
backpack; a complete line of warm and cold weather cloths, and just
about anything you could think of. Just enough to fill the bed of my
pickup. Never know when you might need a map of Florida on a Texas deer
hunt. Yep, I had every thing I needed.
By the time I sucked down a pot of coffee, showered, and loaded the
truck it was 6:00 AM and time to face a six-hour drive to Junction, TX
with a full bladder.
The sun was just up when I made it to the highway, it was a typically
beautiful Texas morning. The air was clean with the hint of freshly cut
hay. The air was cool but living in Texas, I knew in just a few hours
the temperature would reach in mid 60’s. Along with nice temperature
would come the ever-present blue sky and light breeze or strong wind or
gale force wind depending on Mother Natures’ mood. We Texans take our
beautiful weather for granted some times, but it’s hard not to when most
days are accompanied by sunshine and warm temps. . .
I knew that at this time of the morning a lot of deer would be out and
about, so I decided to make a count. By the time I reached Junction I
had seen 43 deer. Not bad I thought for highways and towns. I noticed
two deer in particularly because they either didn’t like my truck in
their area so they charged it or, they were trying to committee suicide.
I finally got to Junction about 12:45 after several short but necessary
stops. I had no more than ordered a cup of coffee in a quick mart when
my friend Dave showed up. The look on his face was inquisitive. I asked,
“Something on your mind?”
His response was unexpected; looking in the back of my truck he
inquired, “You moving in?”
After an unneeded but self-satisfying explanation I followed Dave to the
ranch. Dave’s ranch is a wonderfully managed 3000-acre patch of Heaven.
As far as the deer are concerned it has every thing needed to produce
big, and I do mean big, deer.
Good ground cover, several spring fed tanks, food plots, protein feeder,
and not much hunting pressure gives the deer the opportunity to grow
very large. I asked Dave, “About how many deer are on your ranch?”
A smile crossed my friend’s face as he said. “Just enough to make the
hunting
Great.” That’s all he needed to say.
By now, after seeing the ranch again, I was pumped.
After moving enough equipment to outfit the entire 3rd ID from the truck
to my
Room, we decided to scout a little before genuinely getting into a deer
stand.
Dave took me to an area I’d never seen before. He informed me this was
one of his favorite spots on the ranch. We sat atop a small knoll that
over looked a cornucopia of different kinds and sizes of trees. I saw
some that were familiar and some if my life depended on it I couldn’t
name them. “Mark Trail” I’m not.
Several miles away the endless blue sky was interrupted by a bevy of
sand stone monoliths all decked out in their Sunday best. The ground
cover was prefect for deer and the eye.
This was the setting that didn’t require words. When Dave noticed
something significant he would point. My eyes would then leap to the
spot and absorb the cause of the silent instruction.
I know a lot of people from other places experience the same feelings.
Every outdoorsman knows the emotion of being in a place that by its
absolute beauty transcends stress and worry. That one place that takes
you away from bill paying, auto repair, children’s lives, and all the
other responsibilities that life demands in the twenty first century. It
didn’t take a rocket scientist to know this was Dave’s one place. It was
an honor to share the magnificence of this time and place with an old
friend.
We sat there for the better part of and hour an a half before Dave
mentioned the time. As we walked back to the truck I hoped that I might
have the honor of coming back to this spot someday.
Isn’t it interesting how good food taste after you’ve been out doors?
Dinner was Elk steak, baked potato, tomato salad, and a great bottle of
wine with peach cobbler for dessert. I asked Dave if he might not like
to adopt me. His response was not printable.
The evening was spent in conversation of old times and good time to
come. I managed to break away about 10 and went to bed to dream of brisk
morning air, sunshine, and huge antlers.
AT 4:30 AM I was jolted awake by what had to be the Claxton of the USS
Enterprise blasting in my ears, telling me and everybody else in
Junction, TX that it was time to go to battle stations. Even as a boy I
was not and I’m still not a morning person. At that time of the day I
can barely find the floor and most of the time I need help at that. If I
could have found my rifle I might have sent the Claxton to an unpleasant
end.
Hunting creates a dilemma for me. I need a lot of coffer to wake up,
however, if I drink the coffee I need I will have to use the facilities
often. So, I’m stuck going to a deer blind not awake with not much of a
chance of becoming awake any time before eight AM. Good time to nap as
long as I have a safety harness or a box blind.
This day was no exception; Dave managed to lead me, figuratively, by the
hand to a box blind somewhere between El Paso and Junction. He assured
me that I would see a lot of good deer in this spot. At that time of the
day he could have told me I was President and I would have believed him.
I wanted to tell him that the only way I would see deer at that time of
the morning, would be if they knock on the door of the blind.
A long about 7:30 my eyes started to focus on the morning. The day was
one of those beautiful Texas mornings. The air was crisp and clean. The
sun seemed to be going through the same things I was.
In my normal state of mind at that time of the morning I failed to
notice the six or eight deer homesteading the feeder. A few minuets
later thought squinted eyes and my binoculars I noticed a very good
buck.
He majestically stood at the feeder, as if waiting for any and all other
deer to take notice. He was there to eat, breed, or fight which ever
came his way first. A testosterone fog emanated from this buck and
spread over every living thing in a two hundred yard radius.
I on the other hand, started shaking. It’s amazing to me how a window of
a deer blind can, in a blink of an eye, shrink down to an opening no
bigger than an acorn. I knew, with my hands shaking like they were, I
couldn’t get my rifle barrel through such a small opening with out
alerting the entire state of Texas. My heart was beating in time to some
Caribbean rhythm.
In the mean time, Moe’ Grande was sniffing every butt that stood still
for more than a nanosecond. I’m pretty sure some weren’t even deer.
After what seemed like a half hour, I managed to get my rifle barrel
through the pinhole that masqueraded as a window. Now, if I could just
breathe this buck would succumb to a case of testosterone poisoning.
Looking through the riflescope, I told my self, breathe in and let it
out. Breathe in and let it our, breathe in hold it and squeeze the
trigger. The report of the rifle startled me.
At first I couldn’t see the buck due to the rifle trying to escape my
death grip on it. Once the rifle and I had recovered from the shot I saw
my buck fall to the ground.
It took several minuets for my heart to slow down enough for me to stop
wondering what a heart attack felt like. Once it had, I was out of the
blind and walking toward this magnificent animal. The closer I got the
less worried I was about ground shrinkage.
His size was in direct proportion to the size of my eyes. When I finally
got to him, he was a huge ten point that would score in the mid 150’s
according to my built in measuring tape.
I sat down beside the deer of my life and replayed every minute since I
was led to the deer blind that morning. I was still sitting there when
Dave showed up.
“Who shot the deer?” Dave asked. “I heard a shot and thought you might
have shot your self, so I came to see if I needed to call 911.”
His smile betrayed his emotion, as he came up to me and patted me on the
back. “That’s a great deer.” Dave added as he sat down beside me.
We spent the next few minuets touching and looking and patting what
would end up being a 158 and 2/8 B&C buck
After Dave and I loaded my once in a lifetime buck in the back of his
truck we headed for the ranch house to call the media and set up a time
for them to interview me. That was my plan but apparently not Dave’s.
When we got to the ranch house, Dave’s wife Sylvia came out to see the
deer.
Sylvia walked over to the truck looked in the bed smiled and asked. “Who
shot the deer?”
It seems that one of these two people has spent too much time with the
other.
Now, months later as I sit in my office and occasionally look up on the
far wall. I’m reminded that I didn’t take the giant 12-point. What I do
see is wonderful time spent with great friends in the magnificent state
of Texas.
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