Despite shivering uncontrollably through a deer-less hour and a half, the nostalgic feeling was enough to keep me happy. With an antlerless deer permit burning a hole in my pocket, I’d traveled to Surry, where I settled into my father’s old box blind “down back,” less than a couple hundred yards from my parents’ house.
Typically, deer activity fades away after the first hour or so, and if they haven’t made an appearance by then, you’re better off heading in for a cup of coffee. But just as I was about to start gathering my gear, the local doe group blasted out of the woods, and into the field less than 40 yards from me.
Tails up, ears cocked and noses lifted, they trotted and zig-zagged their way to the end of the field as I scrambled to settle in behind my rifle. I found the big gray doe we determined had no lambs, then, as if ordered, she stopped broadside at the bottom of the field. My crosshairs settled behind her shoulder, and the shot echoed.
All the deer disappeared from the field, and I headed back to the house.
The shot was 150 yards, and a bit rushed, but I felt confident in my favorite .308 rifle from a steady rest. When I opened the door, my father reported he had heard the shot, and excitedly asked if I had killed a deer.
When I told him I hadn’t gone to look yet, he seemed a bit puzzled. I told him there was no rush, that I wanted to wait a bit, and then brewed a cup of coffee. Thirty minutes or so later, I caved to his anxiety, and we headed back down to check things out.
Our initial observations didn’t leave us feeling all that confident. There was no blood, hair or other sign where the doe had been standing.
As we began to slowly and methodically search the area, my father pointed out just a few overturned leaves. He offered to expand the search farther down the edge of the field while I continued at the point the deer was last seen.
For several minutes, I tore apart every inch of ground on my hands and knees, but found nothing. Cautiously and begrudgingly, I inspected the overturned leaves. They had certainly been freshly disturbed, but there had also been a total of five deer in the group that all ran into the same piece of woods together.
Nonetheless, once again on hands and knees, I crept along the bread crumb trail of overturned earth and brown leaves. With still no blood or hair, I was feeling sick to my stomach, and second-guessed the shot. But I convinced myself to stick with my gut, and kept following.
Minutes later and 20 more yards, I found the big doe stone dead at the base of a maple tree. The shot was perfect. The bullet had passed through both of her lungs, but she hadn’t left a single drop of blood for us to follow.
It is said that the real work begins after the shot. As hunters, we have a responsibility to make use of the game we take, which relies on our ability to effectively and successfully recover it from the field.
I’m very thankful to the hunting mentors I had such as my father, uncle, cousin and neighbors, who taught me the finer points of tracking wounded game. I hold that skillset in the highest regard, and truly believe it is among the most important pieces of knowledge to possess as a big game hunter.
We are extremely fortunate for the “easy buttons” we have at our disposal these days. Like most folks, I enjoy being part of social media groups, chats, message boards and online forums. I find myself cringing more often though regarding wounded game recovery.
It is now very common to see online posts inquiring about blood-tracking dogs in the hunter’s area within minutes after a shot. It’s also common to see posts including pictures of what is clearly either a very good or very poor blood trail, post-shot sign or similar content with the author asking for advice on how to proceed.
A very solid and valid argument can be made in favor of the use of blood-tracking dogs, or immediately reaching out to experienced hunters willing to help. There will always be varying skill levels in all aspects of hunting.
The goal is to recover the animal as quickly as possible, and it’s difficult to challenge the means by which that can be accomplished. But skills, knowledge, proficiency and confidence in trailing wounded game were never meant to be optional for hunters.
Part of being a well-rounded, efficient and successful big game hunter is being able to put together every piece of the post-shot puzzle.
And sometimes, all you need to do is step away, pour a cup of coffee, clear your mind, head back in, then listen to your father when he points out the overturned leaves.
