My son got drawn for the youth antlerless/spike hunt this weekend, so we left Kingwood at o-dark-thirty on Saturday morning to make it to the orientation on time. Met a fellow TBHer @mjjust and his nephew and finally got picked second to last out of the group of 10. My son was nervous all the good spots had been picked over until we got in the blind and saw deer within 20 minutes. He got a shot on a doe later that afternoon but we couldn’t find her. The TPWD guys were nice enough to let him keep hunting, so we tried again this morning. It was 46 and raining, and out comes a big mature buck that must’ve known it was a doe hunt. He didn’t have a care in the world. We watched him graze broadside at 40 yards for a good few minutes before he mosied on.
Around 8am, another group of does came out near the same spot as the first, and Stratton took another shot. The doe jumped straight up about 2 feet and took off into the woods. He was concerned he’d lost another one, but I had a good feeling that she was down. The two others that were with her kept looking in the direction she went and then milling around like they didn’t know what to do next. Waited 20 minutes and went to check. No blood. Weird. I figured he was flinching. He insisted he wasn’t, but it was frustrating that he’d had two opportunities with no recovery. We were soaked and cold, so we went back in the blind and fired up the Mr. Buddy.
No other deer came out within his range, and after a while he decided he was good with the hunt and was ready to call it quits. I still felt weird about the two does that had lingered after his second shot, so I suggested that we go down to the creek bottom and hike around just in case we saw the deer he’d shot where we hadn’t seen it before.
So we set off stomping through the tall wet grass and picked our way down to the creek bottom. We went about 100yds and jumped the two deer that had hung around with the one he’d shot at. I thought either that doe is dead in here somewhere or this is just the jackpot area where they bed down. We hiked about another 200 yds and came to a dead end. I recommended turning back, but Stratton wanted to climb out the end of the bottom area in hopes we’d see something to shoot in the high grass. So we climbed out. Might as well let him keep having fun. Didn’t see anything so began walking through the grass back to the blind about 250yds away. We made it about halfway, and he shouted “blood!”. Crazy. When we originally went to look for the second deer he’d shot at, we were 25yds short. Just didn’t seem like that far of a shot. We found more blood, which led back to the creek bottom.
We’d been pretty thorough in scouting the bottom, so I had a sinking feeling the doe hadn’t been hit in the vitals and had made it across to the other side. The blood trail got thinner and disappeared as we gradually descended back towards the creek bottom. Stratton asked me to hold his gun so he could steady himself, and as I turned to grab it I saw his doe. We were blown away that we’d found it. It was now 10am, two hours after he’d killed it. No way would we have found it except the crazy long way we’d taken. That south Texas brush had nearly covered her up from every angle.
The crazy chance recovery is the fun part of this hunt.
If...
1. The two does hadn’t lingered we wouldn’t have tried for a second attempt to find the doe.
2. The two does hadn’t jumped in the creek bottom, we wouldn’t have gone the next hundred yards to the dead end
3. We hadn’t gone to all the way to the dead end, my son wouldn’t have asked to check the grassy area
4. Which put us further out than we’d gone before, which in turn put him in a spot to see the blood
5. Finally. If he Hadn’t asked me to hold his gun I wouldn’t have turned and seen the deer...we’d have walked right past it.
Around 8am, another group of does came out near the same spot as the first, and Stratton took another shot. The doe jumped straight up about 2 feet and took off into the woods. He was concerned he’d lost another one, but I had a good feeling that she was down. The two others that were with her kept looking in the direction she went and then milling around like they didn’t know what to do next. Waited 20 minutes and went to check. No blood. Weird. I figured he was flinching. He insisted he wasn’t, but it was frustrating that he’d had two opportunities with no recovery. We were soaked and cold, so we went back in the blind and fired up the Mr. Buddy.
No other deer came out within his range, and after a while he decided he was good with the hunt and was ready to call it quits. I still felt weird about the two does that had lingered after his second shot, so I suggested that we go down to the creek bottom and hike around just in case we saw the deer he’d shot where we hadn’t seen it before.
So we set off stomping through the tall wet grass and picked our way down to the creek bottom. We went about 100yds and jumped the two deer that had hung around with the one he’d shot at. I thought either that doe is dead in here somewhere or this is just the jackpot area where they bed down. We hiked about another 200 yds and came to a dead end. I recommended turning back, but Stratton wanted to climb out the end of the bottom area in hopes we’d see something to shoot in the high grass. So we climbed out. Might as well let him keep having fun. Didn’t see anything so began walking through the grass back to the blind about 250yds away. We made it about halfway, and he shouted “blood!”. Crazy. When we originally went to look for the second deer he’d shot at, we were 25yds short. Just didn’t seem like that far of a shot. We found more blood, which led back to the creek bottom.
We’d been pretty thorough in scouting the bottom, so I had a sinking feeling the doe hadn’t been hit in the vitals and had made it across to the other side. The blood trail got thinner and disappeared as we gradually descended back towards the creek bottom. Stratton asked me to hold his gun so he could steady himself, and as I turned to grab it I saw his doe. We were blown away that we’d found it. It was now 10am, two hours after he’d killed it. No way would we have found it except the crazy long way we’d taken. That south Texas brush had nearly covered her up from every angle.
The crazy chance recovery is the fun part of this hunt.
If...
1. The two does hadn’t lingered we wouldn’t have tried for a second attempt to find the doe.
2. The two does hadn’t jumped in the creek bottom, we wouldn’t have gone the next hundred yards to the dead end
3. We hadn’t gone to all the way to the dead end, my son wouldn’t have asked to check the grassy area
4. Which put us further out than we’d gone before, which in turn put him in a spot to see the blood
5. Finally. If he Hadn’t asked me to hold his gun I wouldn’t have turned and seen the deer...we’d have walked right past it.
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