Rotten Luck | Field Ethos
By Jim Zumbo I was waiting on the ground in the dark under my treestand when my friend…
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By Jim Zumbo
I was waiting on the ground in the dark under my treestand when my friend Doug walked over from his stand.
“How’d you do?” I asked.
“I think I got one, but I don’t know what the hell it is. I shot it just a minute or two before legal light. I hope to hell it’s a doe and not a small buck. If it’s a buck I’m screwed for the rest of the season. There are really big bucks here.”
We walked over to his stand and immediately found a good blood trail. We followed with flashlights and found his buck 60 yards away. Doug quickly shined the light on its head.
“Son of a bitch! It’s a spike. What rotten luck.”
We were hunting Ohio with crossbows. The law allowed one buck per season. The little buck had its head down eating acorns and Doug couldn’t positively identify it, but since any buck or doe was legal he took the shot.
We hung it in a barn by its head so it would cool overnight. “Let’s leave the barn door open a little so cold air will circulate,” Doug said.
“What about coons and foxes?” I said. “Maybe we should hang it from its hind legs. If any critters find it they’ll have only the shoulders to chew on.”
Doug thought it was okay as it was.
The next morning we heard noises inside the barn as we approached.
This couldn’t be good.
We opened the door and three beagle hounds dashed out. A quick look at the deer revealed most of the hindquarters were gone.
“The little motherfuckers,” Doug yelled.
“How are the tenderloins?” I was almost afraid to ask.
Doug looked inside the carcass. “They’re gone! So is part of a backstrap.”
The next afternoon we were back in our stands. I could see Doug in his tree from my location, hoping for a doe to come by. I couldn’t believe it when I saw a huge 10-point buck walk about 20 yards from his stand.
Through my binos, I saw Doug give it the finger. Then the buck took a shit, flipped its tail, and wandered off in the woods.
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