Interesting hunting stories

[The Kill Dozer]

Anyone have any stories that they think are interesting? Most memorable trips?

[PawPaw]

I remember once, hunting with my Uncle Eddie, we were duck hunting from a family blind on Catahoula Lake. I ws probably 14 or 15 years old. We got there before daylight, waded to the blind and settled in. Shortly before daylight we heard movement in the decoys. The decoys were in about 6-8 inches of water in a shallow prairie lake in the Catahoula swamp.

Something was moving in the decoys. As it slowly turned to dawn, my Uncle looked out and saw a big hog. A really big hog, nearly 500 lbs, in the decoys, walking from decoy to decoy, eating the heads off of them. Uncle Ed stood and shot that hog, meaning to shoot it in the butt and run it out of the decoys.

Just as Eddie stood, that hog turned his head to look back over his shoulder. Some of that lead #6 shot hit that hog in the neck and the hog fell over, on his side, in the decoys. Now, we all know that a charge of lead #6 shot cannot kill a big hog, yet there he lay, bleeding, slowly turning the water red.

Uncle Ed looked at me. "Boy, go drag that hog out of the decoys."

"Like hell," I retorted. "Ain't no three men could drag that hog out of there, and we're the only two people here."

We didn't kill any ducks that day. The red water and the carcass of that hog was spooking them pretty badly.

[IdahoHombre]

Hard to beat PawPaw's story...

But a couple of years ago I was leaving the woods after chasing whitetails in Northern Idaho. While walking towards my vehicle on an old railroad track that had the ties removed, a big bull moose walked out of the woods about 50 yards from me. Incidentally, I had been standing still looking at some wild turkeys when he stepped out, and he basically walked right on top of them. It scattered the birds pretty quickly.

Anyway, this was early October, towards the late end of the rut, and he made it apparent that he did not like me being there, and immediately charged. There were no trees nearby, except for the ones he just came out of, so the only thing I had to hide behind was my 7mm Mag - which might be a little big to be shooting whitetails with - but it felt pretty darn too small with a moose closing in.

I was slowly walking backwards down the tracks, gun up, not sure what to do, when he stopped at about 20 yards. We stared for a moment or two, then I got the message, and slowly continued to walk backwards toward my vehicle.

[Rembrandt]

Killed an Antelope with a knife in hand to hand combat.......Took my youngest son (12) on his first Antelope hunt in Wyoming. He spies a nice buck that's only about 50 yards away and proceeds to shoot. Problem was the rifle was sighted in at 200 yards so the bullet went high and grazed the Antelope's back, taking all the hair off and stunning it as it dropped to the ground. Not realizing the goat wasn't dead, I picked up the head by his right horn and suddenly it sprung to life.....we'll, I wasn't about to let go, so I wrestled it to the ground like a Rodeo cowboy, reached for my knife and cut it's throat.

[rickyrick]

Originally posted by me

Skunk crawled into pipe, making for a handy container for final disposition of the skunk.
shooter got into a prone firing position with muzzle a couple of feet from the opening of the pipe,
shooter fired into pipe, aiming at skunk's backside, bullet, shockwave and gases entered the PVC pipe,
bullet strikes skunk in the biological weapon center causing bullet damage, releasing skunk fluids,
nearly simultaneous actions of pressure in the pipe and the skunk partially obstructing the pipe caused the PVC pipe to explode into pieces of assorted sizes and shapes. to the shooters suprize, pieces of skunk coated debris rained down on him, leaving him smelly and disappointed in the fact that he no longer had a vessel suited to carry off the skunk remains

[ripnbst]

I was sitting in the woods at about 15yrs old, no gun, just along for the hunt with a buddy and his father. My buddy and I were down in the woods and his father was up working on building a new addition to their cabin. He tossed me a can of skoal wintergreen and I proceeded to put the smallest little baby dip in I could without being made fun of. After about 5 minutes the woods started to spin and I got really woozy and light headed. Yep, it was kickin' my rear, I probably weighed 115lbs at the time.

I took it out after about 15 minutes so I wouldn't vomit and give every animal within a sniff a reason not to come anywhere near us. Just as the trees started standing still again a small doe starts walking in from the right. I was positioned on the ground leaning with my back against a tree to my buddy's right and maybe 6 feet in front of him with 20 feet between us. He was also sitting leaning against a tree.

I tried snapping my fingers to get his attention with no luck, gloves on and all in a Pennsylvania winter. This deer was walking right at us, I turned my head and whispered to him "Hey" then pointed. He saw the deer and raised his rifle, a .30-30 Marlin 336. Broke the shot and then deer scrambled. Whether or not he hit it the first time we don't know because he proceeded to unload the magazine on this animal. By the time it fell it was probably 50 yards from us and had 3 holes in it. We walked up to it after letting it lay there for about 5 minutes and it was good and dead.

And that was the first time I'd ever been deer hunting.

[Major Dave (retired)]

Even though I grew up in Texas, at age 28 I found myself going deer hunting for the first time - in Oklahoma. Fort Sill, OK, to be exact.

I had just returned from a 36 month active duty tour in Germany, and was on my way for a second tour in Vietnam, with a 6 week layover at Ft Sill, to get current training on Vietnam artillery tactics and procedures.

So, deer season was going on, but by the time I got there the drawings had all been held, and all 50 hunting compartment slots had been allotted. But, I could hunt "standby" for any unclaimed slot on Friday evening, for the following Sat/Sun.

Two problems.

First, the only legal firearm was shotgun, only legal ammo was slugs. The only shotgun I owned at the time was a SXS 12 ga with a bird bead sight.

Secondly, I had NEVER gone deer hunting - only read about it since the age of 14, in Outdoor Life, Field & Stream, and Sports Afield.

So, starting on Monday before the weekend I would attempt a standby hunt, I went to the library in the basement of the building where I was attending classes, for my noon hour - of reading, not eating.

I got me a yellow legal pad and started scouring back issues of the noted magazines, and wrote down deer hunting tips from the deer hunting stories.

If I came across the same tip in another story, I would put a little hash mark in the margin of the note pad. By the time Friday arrived, I had about two dozen deer hunting tips, with many of them mentioned in a dozen or more stories.

Friday afternoon, at 1700 hours, I rushed to the outdoor recreation building to see what unclaimed hunting slot might be available. There, on a big portable bulletin board, was a 1:25,000 scale map of the entirety of Fort Sill - all 100,000 plus acres. With about 10 of the 50 hunt areas having open slots - 3 slots per area.

So, the first use of my new found "book smarts" was how to map spot bedding areas, feeding areas, and most likely trails connecting the two, as well as how to identify natural funnels to deer movements.

I picked an area with all 3 slots open, bordered on the north by a lake, with a little feeder drainage leading from the artillery impact area (where deer feed at night - under the glare of artillery illumination rounds), on the south boundary.

After choosing my area, I had about one hour of daylight remaining to drive out to the area and do some scouting. When I got there, with a copy of the 1:25,000 topo map in hand, I literally ran up and down that drainage from south (impact/feeding area) to north - where I found "bathtub size/shape impressions" in tall grass near the lake shore. Bedding area.

I then went back south along the drainage looking for a way to get elevation above the drainage. I found it, and it was about a 10 foot high embankment on the east (sunrise) side, overlooking the drainage where the west side was low and gently sloping.

I had learned (from reading) that having the sun rise behind you would make it harder for a deer to see you. Also, "deer seldom look up".

The prevailing wind was from the north (I read somewhere that a cross wind was OK, but a wind in your face was best).

"Situate yourself with some kind of backdrop to avoid being silhouetted." Found a big, thick cedar about 8 feet tall to fill that requirement.

The next morning I was up about 3 AM, taped a fishing rod guide to the rear of the raised rib on my SXS 12 ga, making a functional (if not crude) "ghost ring" rear sight. No chance to actually take it to a range and "check the zero". Oh well, I thought, if the range was 40 yards, or less, it would probably be OK.

Drove out to the drainage, parked the car half a mile down the paved road, and used my (Army issue) compass and a little "dead reckoning to find my 8 foot cedar tree. Sat down on my little Army issue folding stool, and waited with my adrenaline level so high I wondered if I was experiencing the "buck fever" I had read about.

From all I had read, I expected the direction of travel to be from feeding area (to my left), to the bedding area (to my right). So, I was surprised when the first deer I saw was going "the wrong way". Hadn't that big, barren doe read the book?

Half an hour later here HE came - looked just like the deer on the front covers of all the magazines, Booner rack, and all. Never dawned on me that some deer have small racks. What did I know?

He came at a slow walk, never looked up. When his head went behind a tree trunk, I raised the 12 ga and waited for an opening for a shot at his vitals.

Forty yards - or less!

When his vitals were exposed, I put the bird bead of my SXS on the notch at the rear of his front leg elbow, pulled the bead down to the 6 o'clock position in the rear "ghost ring" sight, and squeezed off the shot.

He reacted by humping up like a bucking horse. According to one article I had read, that reaction meant "low lung hit". He then trotted (limping) about 20 yards and laid down behind a fallen Post Oak tree. I could hardly see him, due to the fact that the Post Oak had not shed its leaves (this was early December).

We, the buck and I, then went into about a 15 minute standoff, neither of us moving. Actually, I saw him blink once, and he also licked one nostril.

Finally, I decided to break the stalemate. I slowly and quietly broke open my shotgun, replaced the one spent hull with an unfired one, quietly stood up, then snapped the shotgun shut and shouldered it simultaneously. He didn't move.

But now, from a standing position, I could see most of his left side, as he was laying on his right side. Couldn't see his hind quarters, or his front legs, neck, or head. Then, I took careful aim as far forward as I could see, and touched off another shot.

He jumped up and limped away, at about half speed.

"Never follow up quickly on a wounded deer. They will go a short distance, then lay up and watch their back trail. Leave them alone for 30 minutes to an hour. They will often stiffen up and die. If you chase after them too soon, they will get an adrenalin rush and sometimes run for miles."

So said "The Book", so shall it be.

An hour later, after I had gone for some coffee, I easily followed the blood trail from the Post Oak to his bed, about 50 yards away. He bled about a quart, laying there. Now the bed was empty, and the blood trail was sparse. I worked the trail for about an hour, again relying on book knowledge

"A wounded deer will:
travel downhill
go to water
stay in thick cover"

I had moved only about another 50 yards, when another hunter showed up. I told him the story and asked for his advice and help.

He went on a loop to the east and north, to the lake shore, and began to search the drainage bottom,moving south, toward me, while I worked the drainage bottom from the south, moving north. When we were in sight of each other, the other hunter shouted to me, "There's your trophy". I asked if he was dead (couldn't see the buck from where I was).

"No, but he's too weak to get up" said the other hunter. "Never assume a deer is dead or too weak to get up and run off. Many of them do", according to The Book.

As I started running in the direction the other hunter was pointing, I heard myself yelling - "SHOOT him, shoot HIM, SHOOT HIM'.

He didn't. I DID - right behind the left ear, from a foot, as he had gotten his back legs under himself, but still had not gotten the front ones straightened out. Five more seconds, and he could have been gone!

Didn't that other hunter ever read books!!??

Long story short, he was a 17 pointer, gross scored 175, netted 156. G2's were palmated into 3 points each. Left antler G3 was injured while in the velvet, resulting in 3 points where there should have been one. MASS!! Biologist said his teeth indicated 5 1/2 years old.

Low lung shot. "Double sucking chest wound" by Army parlance.

I still read a lot.

[jmr40]

Not hunting, but the strangest thing I ever saw a deer ever do. Many years ago my brother and I drove up into the North Georgia mountains for a day hike in late February. It was COLD, with a couple of inches of snow on the ground. We were driving along a mountain trout stream when we rounded a curve and caught a small buck crossing the stream. He was out in the open and decided instead of running to just drop down and curl up in a ball in the stream. We stopped within 10 yards of him and he looked just like a rock under the water in the stream. Only his small rack, eyes and nose were above water.

After about 30 seconds or so he figured he was caught and simply stood up, shook the water off and continued across the stream.

[603Country]

Way back in time...the middle 60's, my cousin and I put up a wooden tree stand on the edge of a bean field where we'd always wanted to hunt. Flipped a coin and I won and got to hunt it that evening. Real cold and raining, and I was under a military poncho, just watching. Just about dusk, here comes a big doe from back in the woods and she crept to the edge of the bean field. She was the lead doe and once she had a good long look at the muddy cold and empty field, the other does and yearlings slowly filed out into the field. Then...so slow I could hardly see him move, came a small-horned buck. He crawled on his belly to the edge of the woods and then he crawfished backwards into some briars, and he did that whole process again. Then he crawled forward again and just laid on his belly and observed, for what seemed like forever. No sound but the rain falling and my heart thumping. slowly he stood and walked into the field. My old 35 Remington and I finally did the job, and what I found was that this was a very old and very shot-up buck. He was healed, but had several signs of having been 'slightly shot' over the years and he limped pretty badly. This was before we knew anything about aging them by looking at the teeth, but he was far past full maturity - though he still had quite a stable of girlfriends. He was an old smart buck, and if I remember correctly, the meat was tough as boot leather - though tasty.

[Kreyzhorse]

Some great stories guys.

Killed an Antelope with a knife in hand to hand combat.......Took my youngest son (12) on his first Antelope hunt in Wyoming. He spies a nice buck that's only about 50 yards away and proceeds to shoot. Problem was the rifle was sighted in at 200 yards so the bullet went high and grazed the Antelope's back, taking all the hair off and stunning it as it dropped to the ground. Not realizing the goat wasn't dead, I picked up the head by his right horn and suddenly it sprung to life.....we'll, I wasn't about to let go, so I wrestled it to the ground like a Rodeo cowboy, reached for my knife and cut it's throat.

I got a real kick out of Rembrant's antelope story. I've never had to cut the throat on one but I have forgot where my rifle was sighted in at and shot over the back of a couple of close antelope. Damn embarassing.

[mwal]

When I was 17 in NW Wisconsin we were making a deer drive through some mixed hard woods. I saw a hunter on a stand about 40 yards away midway through the drive. He waived to let me know he was there I waived back acknowledging. I go 10 more steps and see a deer rump the rest of the body was blocked by oak that had partially blown down. I sneak around the tree and a six pt start to jump up. I shot from the hip into its neck killing it instantly. They guy on the stand went ballistic yelling about shooting for no reason around other hunters. I yelled back that I killed a nice buck of course he yells some obscenities and comes over. He see that I did safely shoot the buck. He then offered his help. Since I was new to hunting I let him we went to pull buck away from tree his antler tip was under a root the size of my finger and broke easily allowing us to pull him away from tree to dress. We figured the buck was laying down and hooked his antler while that guy was walking to his stand and was calmly waiting for him to leave the stand until I spotted it. It was a perfect spot to hide slight depression half of tree tipped over. How many deer survive by just letting you stroll past? That is my story from 1979

Mwal

[603Country]

The knife and the antelope reminds me of another story from the 60's. My brother (we were in our late teens then), who's at best a decent shot, hit a large buck in the hips and the buck piled up in the palmettos. That's the good news. The bad news is that it was January and the buck was on the other side of a 30 yard wide Louisiana bayou. It wasn't deep water, but there was ice in it. No bridge available. My brother stripped down to his BVD's, put the knife in his teeth (yes, really) and waded the bayou. He found the buck, but the buck was a long way from dead. Aside from being just a mediocre shot, my brother never sharpened a knife in his life. So he jumped the wounded buck and tried to finish him off with a dull knife. Dad and I were on 'this' side of the bayou and had no plans to go to 'that' side, so we yelled encouragement. They were making one hell of a racket and we weren't sure who was winning, but finally my brother stood up, covered in freezing mud and deer blood, with what was left of his underwear. We think the deer had just finally had too much blood loss to continue the fight, but there was no blood loss from knife wounds. Brother might has well have been using a butter knife. He was also a pretty fair middle linebacker, so maybe he had just been hit in the head too many times for rational thinking.

[Hog Buster]

Years ago we squirrel hunted across the road from a friends house. In the years we hunted there we had never seen anyone else hunting that area. On one hunt I found a 16 gauge Remington Model 1100 leaning against a tree. It was loaded with number 6 shot and in excellent condition. I took it back to my friends house and we speculated whose it was and what to do with it.

Thinking that someone might come back looking for it, we made a sign, tacked it to the tree where it was found. On the sign, a large piece of white aluminum, we painted “ Lost a Gun?” and our phone numbers. My friend asked around also, but no one in the area had lost a gun. Also checked with the sheriff's office, but there was no record of it being stolen. The sign lasted for many years, but we never got a call.

Many times I’ve speculated as to why and who leaned it against that tree, but I’ll never know for sure.

[rickyrick]

That would make me wonder till the end of my days, that shot gun.

[The Kill Dozer]

That reminds me of a story my friend told me.. He was out walking in the woods with his grandfather and noticed a very old gun leaning on a tree(30-06). He asked his grandpa if he could take it, but his granfathers reply was no because they didnt wanna steal. He told me the gun was very rusty, and had not just been setting there for a day, but rather years. He never could remember the spot he was at to go see if it was still there.

[PawPaw]

HogBuster's story reminded me of another.

Many years ago, a friend and I were hunting in Kisatchie National Forest west of Alexandria, LA on a creek near what is now called Kincaid lake. We crossed the clear-running creek on a log and my friend noticed a gun in the sand. He dropped down into the creek and retrieved it. It was a Browning auto-five in 16 gauge, with the gold trigger. He took the gun home and ran an ad in the paper, telling where he'd found the gun, but no one ever called to claim it. As far as I know, it's still in his gun locker.

[markj]

Dad always said dont set a gun down in the field cause you will never find it. He must have been right LOL

I was hunting a field had some trees, I was crossing thru the trees dog in front when a squirrel fell out of the tree, he lit on the ground looked at us then run off to another tree. Dog looked at me as if he was seeing things. Was kinda funny.

I was hunting deer, nothing so I went out of the stand got my shotgun and a dog, went pheasant hunting. I get over a few hills and see a doe walking up the path 10 feet or so in front of me, I got down real low and watched a buck come up nose to the ground following her scent. I shucked the shells out and put in 2 deer slugs. Buck got up on the doe, was going at it when I shot him..... He fell over still pumping air, almost felt bad about it.

[sc928porsche]

I've been hunting for 53 years now, so I do have a lot of hunting stories. Some that got away, others that didn't, and even some that should have. Just remember, all sportsmen tell tall tales except you and me, and sometimes I'm not too sure about you.

[Hog Buster]

You want to hear some tall tales? Spend some time working in a gun shop. It gets so deep that many times I’ve needed hip boots...... Get more than 2 BSer’s in and it becomes an episode of “Can You Top This”.

[warbirdlover]

I had a friend who was up 15' in a tree standing on a limb bow hunting. All of a sudden something GRABBED his right shoulder very tightly. He just about s*** his pants and slowly turned his head to see a huge owl had landed on his shoulder. The owl blinked his big eyes and flew off. That had to be terrifying!

My first year of deer hunting (almost 50 years ago) we were camping on paper company land in central Wisconsin (marshy) and there was a freezing rain. All the tree branches, bushes and foilage had a heavy layer of ice on it. It was like a scene from a Disney movie, just beautiful.... but we were wet. And so were our guns. One of the guys had an Argentina Mauser and there was a sheet of ice on it. We were sitting under a tree trying to stay dry and this guy was sitting on a stump. All of a sudden here is a nice 8 point buck CRAWLING on his belly not 3' behind the guy on the stump, nose to the ground sneaking away. The guy turns, aims and nothing. His firing pin was froze solid. He couldn't cock the gun or do anything but watch this nice buck crawl away. This was right by our "camp" so no one else had their rifles out. The buck was not injured because as soon as he thought he snuck by us he got up and took off, tail in the air. It was pretty funny and cool.

[warbirdlover]

(Now you got me going)....

One year when I used to hunt with my BIL and all his DNR buddies in their cabin WAY up in the northwest corner of Wisconsin there was a huge snow storm the week before gun hunting. There was easily snow averaging waist high with drifts much higher. My BIL told me to buy, beg or borrow a pair of snowshoes or I wouldn't be able to go 20 yards. I had a relative who had a nice pair so off I went.

If you've never walked on snowshoes, the first few times are really "learning lessons". I spent more time with my head burried in that snow then walking on it I think the first day but I got the hang of it and it was one of the coolest deer hunting experiences I can remember. I had a MONSTER buck 40 yards away coming right at me (I saw his lower half body under the pines and I've never seen a deer that huge before) but somehow I dropped my attention span for a second and he just disappeared. I used my tag on a nice doe and had a great hunt that year. I've never hunted in snow like that since.

[tchunter]

I was in south dakota hunting white tail on public land a couple of years ago. When I found out that I drew the rifle tag all I could picture was dropping a deer at 500 yards just like all the shows. In southern michigan all we can use is a shot gun. So for the next couple of months I shot religously. I was confident to 500 yards and had even gotten prety good out to 700. Then the day came there I was, I had been stalking in grassy prairy for an hour. I found a goo spot to take a shot from and got settled in. I ranged the deer at 265 yards but I was breathing too hard to shoot that far. While I was recovering my breath the nice buck and doe layed down. After about another hour passed a little 4 point came along grunting, as he got within a few feet of the doe the big buck jumped up and charged him. They ran right to me and I took the shot at 30 yards with a 300wm. So much for my long range hunting. It was a 10 point that scored 143.