It was the 3rd day of Mule Deer Season and so far I had not done very well. I had hunted the first 2 days on horseback but contrary to common opinion, you cannot just "ride right up to the deer" and shoot them from a horse. I have done it on occasion, but it was more a matter of coming upon them by surprise and quietly enough that they were not immediately spooked. The main advantage to hunting by horseback is the ability to get into country not easily reached on foot, and getting the critter home providing you actually shoot one. That is, if you have a horse that is not boogered by gunfire or the smell of blood or both.

Anyhow, on the 3rd day of the season my friend Dale South asked if I would like to hunt with him on foot. He had an area that he felt not too many people were hunting and where he felt the deer might be. It was several miles south of a private Game Reserve. Dale figured the deer would be going in and out of there on their rounds for food and mating. So I told him, "Sure. It will give my horse and my backside a rest." and made plans to pick him up early in the morning.

Before daylight we were out in the hills. This country is real cut up, with hardly any places other than the sand washes that are somewhat level. The hillsides are steep. It is located on the slope of the mountains that drop off into the San Pedro River country above San Manuel, Arizona. The mountains drop from the town of Oracle (at 5000 ft. altitude) down to San Manuel (about 3500 ft.) on down to Mammoth, AZ on the river about 2500 ft. altitude - if my memory serves me correctly. If I am wrong on the exact altitudes it is only due to lack of memory on my part. The point being the hills drop for 10 miles and are pretty steep. They are intersected and cut up by washes, valleys and draws. The brush is fairly thick in places and there are lots of areas for deer to hide. The hills are home to some nice herds of Javelina also, the little wild pigs that over-run this part of Arizona.

We planned our hunt so we would know where each other were and hopefully if we spooked anything we would push it toward the other one. Then we set off. I was carrying my Linebaugh Custom Sixguns Ruger .45 Colt. The Ruger had a 6-shot cylinder (non-fluted) and a special cast-bullet barrel. It was 8" long with a left-hand 1-22 twist and was hand-cut and hand-lapped especially for cast bullets. This was the first gun that we put the "Taylor Throat" in. The load was the 300 gr. #454629 GC bullet cast hard and lubed with Paco's Apache Blue bullet lube. I had it loaded over 18.5 gr. 2400 for around 1150 fps or so. I carried the gun in a Bianchi shoulder holster which kept it out of the brush.

Hunting up over the ridges was slow work, but I eased my way through the catclaw and cactus, taking my time. After about an hour and half I came up over a ridge that was fairly bare on top. I thought, "Well, there ain't nothing here" and began walking across at a normal walk, heading for where I knew Dale would be. About halfway across the ridge top - maybe 100 yards - I suddenly heard a noise slightly behind me to my left. Turning my head at the same time I saw a nice large Mule Deer buck jumping across the brush, heading basically in the same direction I was going, but 50 or 60 yards to my left. To his left was a steep cliff and later I figured why he was running in the same direction that I was going. He was heading for one of the only ways down!

As he ran I turned, pulled the Ruger, lined up on him and fired. And missed. As I pulled the hammer back for a second try I heard Dale's rifle go off. The deer was running right at him and Dale had taken a shot, angling away from me but at the deer. And he missed. Of course he was farther away than I was. I should not have missed that shot.

At Dale's shot the deer turned abruptly left and went down the cliff face, disappearing from view. I ran over to the edge of the cliff in time to see the buck break out of the brush at the bottom of the cliff and run into the large sand wash. I lined up the sights on the deer - it was nearly straight down but about 100 yards - and fired my second shot. And he dropped. Right there in the wash.

I watched him, ready to shoot again but he was down. In a little while Dale made his way up the wash, approached the deer and then waved me on down. It took some doing but I finally found a place to get down off the hill. I don't know how that deer made it down the cliff but he sure gave it a good run. I wish I could have seen him do it. When I got to him I found the buck was still alive but wounded badly enough it could not get up, so I put a shot through his neck.

The rest was anti-climactic. I was able to drive my 4WD down the wash and pick the deer up easily. He was a nice big old buck with a high narrow rack. Blind in one eye, he had scars all over his face from the battles he had been in. While the rack was not as big as some I have taken, he was about the heaviest-bodied Mule Deer that I have ever shot. The 300 gr. flat-nosed slug went in the top of the shoulder, near the spine, came out the chest and went through the right front leg and then who knows where. Just like it was supposed to. I guess the reason I missed the first shot was, ....he was too close...?