This property is only an hour or so from Biggar, Saskatchewan, where Milo Hansen shot the WORLD record whitetail buck a number of years ago. I have heard about the monster bucks in this area, for many years, and of course always hoped I might get an opportunity to hunt them. Never did I really believe I would get one, but a fellow can always dream............and the icing on the cake would be to take one with a muzzle-loader. I have owned a number of muzzle-loading rifles over the years, and once did shoot AT a deer, but never shot a deer with a front-stuffer until yesterday. And what a buck he turned out to be! For those not familiar with the smoke poles, a muzzle loader is loaded from the business end rather than the breech, as in a modern rifle that shoots cartridges. So one pours a measured amount of gunpowder down into the barrel, then pushes a bullet down on top of the powder using a ram rod to seat it properly. Depending on the type of muzzle-loader, the ignition source can be more gunpowder and a flint, or a percussion cap on a nipple, or a regular primer as one would use in a modern rifle, pistol or shotgun. My rifle is a modern, so-called in-line muzzle-loader, and it uses .45 calibre bullets seated in a plastic sleeve called a sabot, and the ignition is a shotgun primer. I have a very good quality scope on it since my eyes aren`t what they used to be. It looks, feels and handles like a heavy bolt action rifle. So I suppose a purist would consider my rifle to be cheating – you know, nothing primitive at all about this shootin` iron. BUT!!!! It is a single shot, by necessity for a single-barrel rifle, and one just does not get a follow-up shot if one misses on the first shot.
All of these thoughts were playing through my head yesterday when Ray and I went out for an afternoon hunt. We still-hunted to the end of his property, passing some really spectacular deer habitat, with deer trails beaten down in numerous spots. Ray has not been using ladder stands or tree stands, but there was one spot I told him that would be a FABULOUS location for an elevated perch. It would command a field of view of perhaps a hundred yards or more, and overlook probably eight major deer highways. In this part of the province there is no rifle season, so a five hundred yard shot isn`t going to happen anyways.
When Ray and I arrived near the end of the property, I thought I saw antlers in the far tree line, and immediately hit the dirt, rolled onto my back to remove my pack and rifle sling, then crawled on my belly up to a slight rise to get a better look and take a shot. When I put the scope on the antlers, it turned out they were actually branches on a birch tree, something of a let-down, but then after six weeks of not seeing any legal and shootable animals it is not exactly a novel experience for me either.
The slightly elevated piece of land gave me an excellent view over a hundred yards or better of pretty deery-looking terrain, and I set up against an old weathered fence post while Ray went to push the bush in hopes that a deer would spook and run in my direction. As it turned out, for once a plan came together as it was supposed to. I had removed my pack, took a location fix with my GPS (YES, I was optimistic), and was glassing the tree line with my binoculars, confirming for example that the antler tree was still there and had not grown fur in the meantime. My rifle was across my legs, safety on but ready for action. Fortunately I had not leaned the rifle against the fence post or similar............as I was glassing the woods I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and there he was, bounding out of the patch of scrub into which Ray had disappeared perhaps five minutes earlier.
Those of you who are hunters know how everything kind of kicks into high gear and slow motion all at the same time. Within perhaps a second of seeing the movement I had dropped the binos and had the rifle in my hands, hoping for a shot. Initially it looked like there would be no opportunity for a shot, since he was bounding at top speed through scrub trees and tall grass, headed to an impenetrable thicket perhaps a hundred yards to my left. Suddenly he changed direction and began charging directly at me. I shouldered the rifle, slipped the safety off, and put the scope on the speeding deer. I have shot a LOT of deer in my life, probably around a hundred or so, but have not made many successful shots at running deer, But by golly if that was the shot I was going to get, I was going to take it. At this point, I had not even attempted to count the points on his head, I was just concentrating on the buck who was now closing on me at top speed. At less than 25 yards, heading directly at me, he put the binders on full, obviously concerned about the odd looking camouflaged lump against the fence post. A full frontal shot is not the best possible scenario, but it beats the snot out of a running broadside shot, and the instant the buck stopped I dropped the hammer. He flinched mightily, turned tail, and ran back towards the direction from which he came. His tail was down, and I had felt confident about the shot, BUT!!! He ran at least a hundred yards that I could see.
My hands were shaking as I reloaded the rifle, and I settled back against the fence post to wait for Ray to return. Within about five minutes Ray was back, and congratulated me on taking the shot. Well, I have been hunting long enough to know that a shot does not always equal a dead deer, and I had not SEEN the buck keel over, so I was only cautiously optimistic. After all, my record with the smoke-pole was not exactly stellar, and I had taken a shot at a pretty small target, as far as making a fatal shot goes. So I had Ray stand where I was, as a reference point, and went out towards the path I had seen the deer take after I shot. Quite soon I saw blood, and followed a good blood trail to just inside the woods, where my Saskatchewan buck lay dead as a doornail. Ray joined me, and exclaimed that he had NEVER seen a buck this size in all his time in Saskatchewan. And I was mighty pleased with myself, as a matter of fact. But where was my camera?..................back in the truck at the house. Story of my life.........anyways no hero picture of the buck in his final resting place, with my rifle across his antlers, or similar.
Ray owns a small farm tractor, and we were directly beside a trail, so off he went for the tractor while I gutted the buck and tagged him. The shot had been slightly right of centre, and the bullet had created a dreadful entrance wound that I could put my hand into. I suspect that the bullet had hit a small twig or similar before it hit him. And as it turned out, the bullet had continued through the body cavity and exited near his hind leg on the opposite side, which made for a slightly unpleasant cleaning job, but that is not too unusual either. I had done my part of the job when Ray returned and we trussed up the buck for him to take it back to the house. I walked back, feeling the usual emotions one often has after killing such a magnificent animal: gratitude for the opportunity for the shot and for the successful conclusion, exhilaration at the size and shape of the buck, wonder at the ability to take an animal with a muzzle-loader, and of course a certain amount of sadness for the creature's life that I had taken.
Temperatures here are unseasonably warm, so we hung and skinned out the buck before supper and left it to cool overnight. A couple people have dropped by to look at him, and they have all said they never saw a buck this size out here. We are about to butcher the buck this afternoon (since the celebration last night went a tad late), and I will get Ray to take a picture of me with the head, so I can post that. Obviously I have not had the antlers scored yet, and for sure he is not going to top the Hansen buck, but he is one for the record books, no doubt in my mind.
Doug
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