04 July 2009

During the deer hunting season of 2006-07 I harvested four bucks and one doe. That was not a bad season for an old preacher. I hunted mainly on land belonging to my good friend Bubba Taylor down in the Sardis Community just south of Highland Home in Crenshaw County , Alabama . This here is a tale I like to share with everyone who knows that I am rather addicted to this sport of looking for the elusive Whitetail deer. Well, it goes like this. Me and Bubba were walking across an open field when a buck jumped up from where he was bedded down about 50 yards from us. Since we both had our rifles in our hands we both aimed at the creature and fired about the same time. I want you to know that buck fell dead in its tracks. We walked up to where the deer was laying and we saw that it was a ten point buck and it looked like it would easily weigh at least 180 to 200 pounds. I just knew that I had hit the deer and I really wanted this trophy but I couldn’t say much because I was hunting on Bubba’s property. Well about that time a game warden came walking up and wanted to check our licenses. I informed him quickly that I did not have a license but he could tell by my appearance that I was so old that I didn’t need one and since I was hunting with the land owner I did not even have to have a written permission. (You see, there are some advantages about being ancient.) He said he also heard us shooting and wondered if we had killed anything. It was then that we told him our situation about our shooting at the buck at the same time and that we did not know who killed the deer since we both claimed to have hit the buck. Well he walked over to that poor dead deer and stared at it for a long time, even examining it. He then walked over to us and said “one of you is a preacher.” I asked, “How did you know?” He said, “The bullet from a preacher’s rifle killed the deer.” Now that startled me and I inquired, “Sir, how in the world do you know that?” To my surprise he answered, “Because the bullet from a preacher’s rifle that killed that buck WENT IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER!!”
My good friend RD from Carbon Hill and I went down to hunt deer on some property owned by a nice gentleman who had land just east of the small community of Grady, Alabama. The man informed us in no uncertain terms that he wanted us to kill only does unless it was a large antlered buck. I had sat in this nice shooting house previously and I had harvested a very nice doe so I thought I would permit my friend to have this location from whence he would see some deer eating over the green field. I went in the opposite direction and sat in a tree stand in a wooded area where most likely I would not see any wildlife except for squirrels ~ but eating a bushy tail rodent is not my idea of a delicious meal. Well, anyway it was getting late and the sun was beginning to sink low in the western skies when all of a sudden I heard the blast from my friend’s 270 caliber rifle and I knew old RD had bagged him a nice doe or a record sized buck. I got down from my tree stand and began walking toward the farm house and the green field where my friend was undoubtedly rejoicing with his marksmanship and kill. It was then that I heard a tractor heading my way. Our generous farmer friend thought that I had shot a deer and he was coming to drag my kill with his tractor. I got to thinking about that and I suppose he thought I had killed a buck that perhaps weighed around 200 to 300 pounds. I informed him quickly that it was not I who shot but my friend in the shooting house.

About that time we heard him shoot a second time. I suggested that we wait at the gate instead of going toward the green field. It was then that we heard a third shot. I thought to myself that old RD had wounded a deer and had to track him down to finish the trophy size deer down and finish him off. My, I thought it must be a humongous size buck to take three rounds from his 270 caliber to finish the monster off. It was then that I saw my friend come over the rise of a small hill dragging the deer behind him so the farmer and I started toward him to assist him because we did not want my friend to suffer a strained back or a pulled muscle. I got to him first and I saw what he had killed. It was a very small doe. RD looked at me and with a sad countenance on his face he told me that the deer looked larger at 100 yards and that he shot it and then had to find it and shoot at it again and finally finished the job with another round from his rifle. When the owner saw how small the deer was he said with a loud voice, “Why you have killed Bambi.” Well at least it was a doe. Now do you suppose that I have let my good friend RD forget those words spoken by the owner of the property. No way! Oh, we didn’t have to use the tractor to drag the poor thing out of the green field. It would have almost fit into a game bag.

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