For as many archery seasons as I can remember, they’ve always started the same way; I’ve always seen deer my first time out. In fact, I’ve come to expect it. None of this must be confused with boastful over-confidence, because no one wonders more than me why this happens year after year. Note that I didn’t claim to shoot deer every year my first time out, for that is a rare event indeed.
It was the snap of a tiny twig that revealed their presence. I glanced down from my tree stand and could barely make out their shapes in the murky pre-dawn light. They were small deer; a pair of fawns. As they foraged below, it struck me how gracefully they moved, almost slithering as they nosed their way among the dense raspberry canes and goldenrod. It was like looking down at a pair of fish gliding through pond weeds.
Suddenly the lead fawn’s head shot up and it looked right at me. It stared at me for that excruciating length of time which all deer hunters know, before deciding that the strange blob in the tree would do it no harm. The fawn was right, this time. I do not know what sense revealed my presence to the young deer, for technically there was no reason for me to be detected. But whatever it was that put that deer on alert, it made me think, “Hone that skill, Little Deer, and it will serve you well.”
The two fawns eventually drifted off into the woods and the sun was just beginning to break the tree tops when the third deer arrived. It had come from a different direction than the other two and it hadn’t been there a split second ago. But I had blinked and it was there now, just to my left on the main trail. The deer wore no antlers and looked bigger than the earlier two. Not big, but bigger. Perhaps it was a doe, the only kind of deer I hoped to shoot this morning. I did have a buck tag as well as a doe tag in my pocket, but my buck tag was reserved for my northern hunt in November. Queen Bee had buck tag we could legally share, but I dared not shoot her buck if it came by me. She was after her first deer and she intended it to be a big one.
As the deer slowly moved along the trail beside the creek, conveniently stopping in every one of my shooting lanes, no amount of squinting or mental gymnastics on my part could convince me that it was a grown doe. It was a fawn and I let it walk like the others. I wondered if these deer would make their way over to Queen Bee’s ground blind. And if they did, would she shoot? I kind of hoped she would. Every new deer hunter needs some success and there certainly was a time not all that long ago when I would have taken that shot. But as the sun rose higher, I heard no distant “twang” from Queen Bee’s crossbow.
Eventually the magical early morning light gave way to plain ol’ morning light and I climbed down from my tree stand. There was no real reason to end this hunt so soon, other than the best time of the season for long sits was yet to come. So I walked towards Queen Bee's ground blind, looking forward to hearing about what she might have seen. We’d pick up coffees on our drive home and plan our next hunt. It was only the beginning and, just as I knew we would see deer this first day, I also knew that the best thing about deer hunting was that I had absolutely no idea what was yet to come.
It sounds like you guys had a great morning. Did QueenBee get to see any of those deer? I wish I had a spot to see so many, you have a great spot there. I have corn between the woods next door and my woods which is good for travel but fresh cut beans are on the side of the other woods. The rest of the fields surrounding my woods are dead fields this year - that however means they will be full of corn next year which usually provides a really good spot for me.
Eventually you know the sound and want to look but dont for fear you will scare a deer when you move.
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