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The morning hunt of November 25, 2022 proved fruitless. We were in an area Lucas’s dad, my son Dan had scouted out earlier. We encountered a couple of other hunters who were going to hunt an adjacent cutline to where Dan had set up a ground blind and a couple of chairs. We walked in about twenty minutes. Lucas packed in his Savage model 110 rifle that his dad had purchased the year earlier from a friend, I packed in a grunt tube.
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| Lucas at the gun range. |
The snow was probably nine inches deep. I followed Lucas in as I had never hunted this clearing before. We settled into our chairs while it was still dark out. Dan also had an unfilled tag and time was running out. Dan had given up a 3x3 he was hoping Lucas would get a shot at but whenever Lucas showed up on a hunt, the bucks eluded him.
For two hours we did what we could to keep from seizing up in the minus 15 degree quiet morning air. After four Werther’s Original hard caramel candies and a couple of grunts the sun came up, our spirits went down, and we decided to make our way back to the car. We had not heard a shot all morning.
After taking off some gear and putting my grunt tube on the console I enjoyed a coffee and a granola bar on the drive out of the bush. Lucas’ spirits were uplifted a bit by some hot chocolate. I asked him if he wanted to try the tree stands in the field his dad was hunting for an afternoon hunt. He agreed it was probably going to be more productive and have less hunting pressure than the clearing we hunted that morning. I told Lucas I’d pick him up at two in the afternoon. Dan saw nothing while hunting the field from his tree stand in the morning.
By this time, Lucas had probably been out about fifteen times without a decent shot at a buck. I was impressed by his determination and persistence. I was also impressed by his shooting skills. He spent a lot of time plinking with a pellet gun on the acreage he called home. When Dan bought Lucas a 270 the previous summer, I worked up a reduced load for him. After doing some online research, I purchased a pound of Hodgdon H4895 and found some 130-grain Nosler Accubonds at Sylvestre’s Sports in Bonnyville. During COVID I was finding it harder and harder to purchase reloading supplies. Long story short, 36-grains of powder with ten thousandths of an inch jump made for an awfully long bullet but they managed to fit the magazine of the Savage bolt-action rifle.
After tightening up the action and sighting the gun in at the Cold Lake Fish and Game Shooting Range, Lucas managed to put four shots into a two-inch bull’s-eye at 100 yards. A friend, Daryl Harris, who owns Dead On Scope Works set up his chronograph and said the muzzle velocity was 2460 feet per second. Although Lucas only weighed 90 pounds at best, he was determined to hold his gun steady for the duration of a fine trigger release.
When I showed up at five minutes to two, Lucas was still looking for his gear. Dan would try another area made up of clearings and bush that he had hoped had little hunting pressure.
Lucas and I drove out of the yard at 2:15 pm and were in the driveway of the field we would hunt by 2:30. I took my time walking to the stand looking at the deer tracks in the snow. The tracks seemed to be moving in a northeasterly direction. There were lots of old tracks and some fresh ones. There were some scrapes along the edge of the field too. A mild breeze out of the northwest meant the wind would be in our favour for any animals coming in from the west.
Lucas and I were settled into our tree stand at around 3:00 o’clock. When I unzipped my jacket to pull out my grunt tube, I realized it was still sitting on the console of the car; we would have to do without. It wasn’t worth the trip back to the car for my buck stopper. Lucas and I sucked on Werther’s candies to pass the time. It would be at least an hour before anything would start moving... if we were lucky.
At about 3:40 Lucas whispered to me, “Deer!” I was completely taken off guard, as deer usually don’t show up until close to last light. The buck had a decent rack with his nose to the ground and he was on a mission. I whispered back to Lucas to bring up his gun. I pursed my lips and squeaked at the buck, which was about 70 yards out in an effort to stop him so Lucas could get a shot.
“I can’t see him!” Lucas muttered.
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| Lucas with his first ever buck. |
I flipped up the transparent objective lens cover on his scope. I had purchased a set of lens covers for Lucas for his birthday. I’ve had occasions in the past sitting in a tree stand while it’s snowing only to have snow deposit itself on the lens. The ocular lens cover was off. Little did I know that Lucas still had his variable scope set on 9 power, which is where it was set at the range when Lucas field tested a new load a month earlier.
The deer was unstoppable. He kept on at a steady march. No matter how much I squeaked, the buck was not stopping. All of a sudden the shot was touched off and the buck went from a steady pace to an all-out sprint. He traveled about 30 yards and crumpled.
I couldn’t believe it! Deer usually travel at least a hundred to a hundred and fifty yards when hit with lighter calibre bullets. At least this is the case with 100-grain partitions shot out of my 25.06.
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| Grandpa and Lucas pose with Lucas' buck. |
I sent a text to Lucas’s dad who was hunting another area 30 minutes away.
“4x4 down.”
“Lucas?”
“Yup.”
Dan came out to get pictures and congratulate his son on a job well done. The projectile took the buck just behind the shoulder and about two inches below the backbone. A perfect shot for a boy’s first buck. I’m not sure who was happier, Lucas, his dad, or his grandfather.
A week later after we butchered the buck (the skull made a lovely European mount), I fried up slices of loin in Grandfather’s famous pickle juice sauce. Two ounces of homemade pickle juice, a good shot of Worcestershire and some soya. Throw this on top of the onions when the chops are just about done and it makes for a delectable meal. Lucas ate more than his dad and grandfather combined.
Now I can relax. When I’m too old to hunt anymore, I know I’ll still be able to chow down on some fine venison once in a while. ■
For previous Reader Stories click here.
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