The first rays of light began to peek through the clouds as the sun rose for another day; my first day off from work for seemingly ages.
http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k2...0trips/002.jpg
Being a mad keen hunter, any chance I have, I am out “having a look.”
This particular spot is tricky to get right, the hill runs north south and drops down into a valley, to the north that runs east west.
The high pressure system working its way towards the south island, was forcing warm dry air down from the north so the walk was pleasant, but it also kept my sent behind me, as I worked my way northwards.
On the southern hill, no sign was to be found, but I decided with the wind as it was, I should check the northern hill which was covered in native vegetation. I can glass from a distance and see if there is any deer, then use the valley floor to hide my approach.
I popped through and into the clearing, glassed the face in front of me but saw no animals. “Not to worry, I will drop down into the valley floor and work my way along” I thought.
I walked a wee way down the valley and rounded a bend. To my dismay, I spooked a yearling red deer. It was hidden from my view by bushes but I saw movement and watched as it bounded up the hill.
A young animal would be perfect, as the freezer is a little light and venison sausages are a family favourite.
I squatted down and raised the Browning Shortrac with the hope that the deer may pause, and sure enough at 250 meters away it stopped and turned to look at what had spooked it.
I hurriedly held the cross hairs on the shoulder and paused, just long enough that once again; it turned and bounded further up the hill.
I cursed myself for the pause. I was not feeling 100 percent about the shot, as it was long range and I was not settled, I was glad I did not shoot, because I picked the deer up in a small clearing just as it was about to hit the dense native bush.
The deer once again paused, facing away on a steep uphill slope about 300 meters away, looking at what direction to take. I managed to take the opportunity and settled the cross hairs on the base of the neck. Trigger squeeze, BOOM the .270 spoke.
I lost sight of the deer due to the recoil, but as i recovered I thought I saw movement up the hill and to the right. Doubts immediately set in.
Did I place the shot? Did I allow enough for the drop of the bullet in flight? 300 meters plus is a long shot for anyone, is the gun accurate enough? Is the shooter accurate enough? My head likes to mess with me at times.
I sat for a moment, scanning he hill side to see if I could pick up any movement at all. I studied the area where I last saw the deer, so I could check for any sign of it being hit.
I worked my way up to the area where it was, after a bit of scanning the ground I had my doubts. The .270 shooting 130 grain federal soft points, would leave a big exit wound on all but the biggest deer. So, if it were well hit, I would normally expect a downed animal on the spot or a big splash of blood and a short thick blood trail to the animal.
I worked back and forth around the area and found a few small spots of blood. Hit! Worryingly it was only a few spots and there was no trail. The mind begins again; I start to curse myself, should I have held off on the shot? Did I place the shot well? Should I have waited and tried for another animal?
There is no worse feeling than loosing and or wounding an animal. It is far worse than missing altogether. My heart sank, I worked to the right, where I thought I saw movement, and I worked up hill, no sign. In the thick cover, line of sight can last only a few meters, 2 steps left or right and you will see nothing.
With such a small amount of blood I had all but given up hope. I sat down, took stock and collected my thoughts.
I tried one last time and you guessed it, I spotted a small splash of blood! The deer had ducked under a small bush and from there worked its way through the thick cover.
http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k2...0trips/010.jpg
I tracked the sign and soon the little drops became a thick trail. Feeling a lot more confident, I ducked and crawled through the vines and tangled scrub. Pools of blood showed where the deer had paused, then moved on.
http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k2...0trips/011.jpg
http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k2...0trips/012.jpg
Soon enough I came across the deer, a yearling hind and perfect size for fitting into the freezer.
http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k2...0trips/013.jpg
The bullet had struck higher than I had allowed for, entering the top left of the neck and exiting the right. It had severed the arteries to the head, but missed the spine. I was surprised there was not more blood immediately at the sight of the bullet impact. Considering that she had only travelled about 50 meters and was completely devoid of blood when I came across her.
http://i91.photobucket.com/albums/k2...0trips/015.jpg
I was also surprised at the flat trajectory of the .270, something for me to get used to.
The best part was I had done all the uphill work, I gutted the carcass and carried it down to the valley and then on to the car so I could run it home whole, to hang and set properly.
