Novice Deer Hunters
We had taken Sam deer hunting at the start of the season. Sam was a good friend who had never hunted deer and now in his 60's he decided he better go if he was ever going to do it. Sam had an old 8mm Mauser that was in great shape and he shot it pretty accurately so we encouraged him to use it. Which he did. We got into the deer before 9AM the first morning out and a half hour later Sam had the deer down.
We took photos but Sam was looking a little green around gills. We packed the deer back for him ... me and my good friend Dale. But Sam never got too happy about killing the deer. And that was the extent of his hunting. Once. Which is OK. Not everyone can or should hunt.
Once Sam had taken a deer his wife Fran decided she wanted to go deer hunting. And I agreed to take her. Both Sam and his wife were good friends with my wife and I. They liked shooting and hiking and finding old ghost towns, and though older than us they were active and always ready for an adventure. We made plans to hunt on horseback. Fran would use Twyla's Remington 600 .243. She had shot it and was comfortable with it.
Early one morning we caught the horses, saddled them and tied our gear on board and set out. I had a place in mind where I had seen a lot of deer. It would take us a couple hours to get to it and we might run across deer anywhere in between. Fran was riding Stardust, our old, gentle mare. I rode Shays Gal, my Quarter Horse. Both horses could be trusted in the mountains. Both were broke to gunfire and to packing dead critters.
I had coached Fran that if we jumped any deer to step off the horse, pull the rifle from the scabbard, work the bolt to put a cartridge in the chamber and then shoot the deer ... being careful where she pointed the rifle and to keep her finger off the trigger until she had sights on the deer. We went over it a couple times. As I said, Fran and her husband were shooters and she was very safety conscious.
We rode for an hour or so, enjoying the country. Coming out of a canyon we rode into a wide clear area with just low brush. As we rode in a nice big buck stood up about 70 yards away and stared at us. I was expecting Fran to get off the horse and pull the rifle up and go to work. but instead she sat in the saddle and yelled loudly, “OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT DEER!” The buck must have thought she was yelling at him for he snorted and then bounded away, never to be seen by us again.
Fran was embarrassed .. I was laughing and trying not to fall off my horse. After things settled down a bit she said, “I was so excited seeing the deer that close I forgot about shooting it!” I told her it was OK. We all get excited and we would find more deer, so we set off again. We had not gone more than 20 minutes when while riding through some trees with a lot brush around them a buck stood up not 40 feet from Fran's horse. Fran screamed, “THERE'S ONE!” and away the deer went. Again.
About an hour later she did it again!
So I decided it was time to stop and have a sandwich and a drink of water. As we were eating Fran said, “I don't think I am cut out to be a hunter.” I reassured her that it was OK. She said that we might as well ride towards home and I said we would do that. When we were rested we packed up and started back. I was still determined to get her on a deer if I could and explored a few likely spots on the way back. Riding up over the top of a fairly large hill, we came to clearing that had a steep bank down the north side. I rode up close to the bank, looked over and pulled my horse back. Down at the bottom ... maybe 120 or 150 yards was a large herd of deer feeding. I rode back to Fran and told her that there were deer down below us, they did not know we were above them and that this was her chance. We got the horses secured and then eased up to the edge of the cliff. There below us were more than 20 deer milling around, feeding. I got Fran set up with the rifle and told her to pick one and shoot it. She looked through the scope for quite awhile and then whispered to me, “I can't do it. But I want the meat. Will you shoot it for me?” I said sure I would and took the rifle. I sat down on the bank, rested my left arm on my knee, picked out a deer and shot it. Then we went back, got on our horses and made our way down to where the deer lay.
The herd had scattered at our approach but the one I shot lay out in the open and we did not have to search for it. I cleaned, quartered it and packed it in the saddle bags on both horses. Then we went home without incident.
A couple weeks later we had venison with Sam and Fran. I am not sure which deer it came from but it was good. Neither one ever again expressed any desire to hunt. Which is OK. It never affected our friendship one bit.
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