Leatherwood Sucks
After two successive hunts having been the beneficiary of some first-rate guiding from @craigc and @Shootm respectively, I decided I would share the love and try playing guide myself. David, a mate of mine who hasn't done much deer hunting and was yet to bag his first got the last minute call for an after work hunt last night. I left home at 6pm and pulled into his driveway shortly thereafter where he was ready and waiting. He slung his day bag into the Suuby and tossed his WWII 303 in with my 7-08. At this point I couldn't help but feel a bit undergunned for the planned outing - David said he was confident with the 303 to about 200m and my 7-08 bush pig is maxed out at about 300m (for a clean kill) given the snail's pace at which the pill squirts out the tube. The spot we were headed has glassing options with a chance of deer from 150 - 700m+ and my 7RM was out of action needing to be zeroed. The plan was to head into a local spot on public land and, if we were lucky enough to see a deer within range, was for David to shoot and me to provide back-up as required.
We arrived at our glassing point after a leisurely walk in right on the start of the "golden hour". As we sat and began glassing I ranged a few prominent points to determine maximum range for each of us should we see deer. It didn't take long before a young spiker popped out feeding, oblivious to our presence. He kept looking back into the scrub from where he came which made me think there may have been more (probably wiser) animals waiting in cover for the light to fade. I pointed the spiker out to David, who after a detailed explanation managed to get a bead on him. I ranged the deer at 255m, right at the limit of David's comfort but well within mine. After faffing about for a couple of minutes trying to get a decent rest, David informed me he was ready to shoot. I told him to calm himself and take his time as the deer had no idea we were there and was happily feeding in the open. I watched through my scope as David lined up and squeezed off a round from the 303. The deer immediately turned downhill (a good sign) and made unsteadily for the scrub. We watched for a minute, confident of a hit - although David said he felt like he pulled the shot a bit. Moments later I caught a glimpse of the spiker breaking cover on the next clearing. He was facing us almost directly head on, as he paused mid stride I exhaled and squeezed off a round from the bush pig. The 8MOA correction was spot on and the round slammed home in the centre of his chest, dropping him on the spot.
A couple of congratulations and a photo or two of the slip from our firing position later (I find this very helpful for finding shot deer in unfamiliar country), we were on our way shortly before 8:30pm. A plan was hatched to back track to the known track and drop down onto the slip rather than sidle from our firing point. To this point it had been fairly easy going. That all changed fairly quickly when we were faced with a 300m bush-bash through seemingly impenetrable leatherwood. Just short of 2hrs later we broke out onto the slip and I gave Harley (the dog) her "find it" command. At this point I have to say that having a trained deer-dog is awesome. We were tired, scratched and bruised and physically drained but the dog made the find simple and what was already a long night would have possibly been a hell of a lot worse had we not had her.
Initial inspection of the spiker only revealed one bullet hole (exactly where I had aimed). Out of caution, and not wanting David to get down on missing, I suggested there may be another hole that we just couldn't see and that he should get a photo with "his" kill. On conducting an autopsy , it became apparent there was indeed another wound, David was correct in his assertion that he'd pulled the shot. His round had entered a little far back and high in the back steak and, because of the angle, penetrated the gut before smashing his left hip at the ball-joint and the bullet lodging in the left rump. His shot would have definitely resulted in a kill but my shot meant no suffering and a much easier find. With a hole at each end, we were only able to harvest one leg and one and a half back steaks. David had conveniently not brought a meat bag so I was left to carry out the meat to earn my guides badge, luckily there wasn't as much as there may have otherwise been.
With the butchering done we only had to get back to the track, then on to the car. By the time we left the scene it was almost 11pm and we were faced with a ball (and spirit) breaking climb back through the leatherwood. By the time we reached the track, an hour and a half later, our scratches had cuts and our bruises had scratches. Every piece of exposed skin was torn to shreds and blood flowed from multiple sources.
After dropping a very tired but grateful David off at home to deal with his less than impressed wife, I made my way home. With the venison in the chiller, I jumped into the shower to wash away the 4hrs of blood, mud and tears and rolled into bed a little after 2:30am. Maybe I should have done something about the open wounds before getting into bed because this morning the sheets look a little freaky (hopefully I can either wash the blood out or buy some new ones before the mrs finds them).
A bloody good hunt and especially rewarding getting a mate his first deer.
