A blustery south easter accompanied me as I quietly made my way in the pre-dawn darkness towards my lookout - a 30minute walk later and I'm easing into position to observe the swampy clearing that starts 150yds to my left and extends out to 400yds to the West. The fuzzy light of dawn starts to reveal shapes and shadows and my bino's are put into action. Slowly they scan the clearing looking for movement or a strange shape by only pick up clumps of rushes.
A cock Pheasant's raucous alarm call rings out and then the flutter of wings about a 1/3 of the way up the swamp instantly draws my attention. Wondering whats disturbed him I scan the edges and there it is, a deer slowly grazing out of the bush edge but it's still too dark to comfirm it's gender. Time ebbs on, with it the light increases to reveal a young stag of 6-8 points still in velvet. I range him at 240yds then continue to watch. A few minutes pass and he starts to give the telltale sign that he's not alone, glancing back the way he came. I shift my attention back to the bush edge and sure enough a second stag emerges, another young boy of maybe 10 points. I watch as they quietly feed thier way towards the far end of the clearing, relaxed, content. Suddenly they're nervous, agitated and in an instant are gone. My mind is curious, has this blasted wind given me away? Is there another hunter? No there's something else, a new shape right at the end of the clearing.
Still locked in deep shadow it's hard to pick out but it's definately a deer. A quick range reveals 390yds and then back to the bino's just in time to see a flash of white - action stations! I nestle in behind the 300wsm, check my drop chart, dial 1.2mils, set paralax and locate him in the scope. The angles all wrong and with the shadows it's impossible to see a clear aim point, he's just a dark blob. Then he's gone! Swallowed by the bush.Was that it? Just that short glimpse?
I stay glued to spot, 2 or 3 minutes pass when I detect movement in the treeline, a little closer - 376yds. Adjust the scope 1 click and follow him with the crosshair, waiting for the shot to be presented and there it is - the wsm sneezes, unleashing 208 grains of fury! Momentarily I lose sight under recoil, as I focus again he's running and then the sound of a hit reaches me- but he's running!!! Instinct takes over, the bolt effortly cycles chambering a fresh round but it's too late - swallowed by the bush again.
I cautiously approach the spot where he was standing, fully expecting to find sign of a hit - nothing! No blood! No hair! I begin to track his route of departure through the muddy swamp. I've gone 20-30yds and still no blood. Doubt raises it's ugly head. Did I? Surely not. The shot felt good, I heard the whack. Pushing the thought from my mind I concentrate on his trail and continue on into the bush. Another 30yds and something catches my eye, up with the scope and there HE is! You beauty! A gentle poke in the eye but there's no response.
I relax and admire the fallen beast at my feet, count the points of his freashly rubbed antlers that still have a little stringy velvet here and there - 13. I sit with him and count them again, yep 13 again. Letting the moment sink in I notice I've got a bit of a shakey hand and my heart is racing - exhileration is pumping through me as I realize this is the biggest stag I've shot in 20 years!!
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