Breaking a 15-year deer-hunting drought

I have to say that my efforts in trying to bag a deer up until recently have been a complete disaster. Chasing these flighty types has been on and off for me for the past 15 years, with no success at all. For some reason deer have been the monkey on my back that I just have not been able to shake.

While I have chosen the bow for this period of time, I have had plenty of success on goats, pigs and bunnies, but had trouble getting the drop on a deer. I have no doubt that if I had been using a rifle, I would have harvested deer by now, but the challenge of a bow-shot deer was my ultimate goal. With the start of a new year, I broke the drought in exhilarating fashion. Well, I thought, as the saying goes: ‘You never forget your first.’

While on a job I by chance met Peter Orton, who as it turns out was a seasoned deer hunter with the rifle and was keen to try out bowhunting. After helping Peter set up with a new Hoyt Pro Defiant and all the trimmings plus a bit of practice, we ventured out for a hunt. The property was in a spectacular location and steep but for an old, unfit guy like me it was a challenge.

I did my best to keep up with the younger, fitter man but too much time sitting on my butt had definitely taken its toll. I’m sure Peter was being polite when he said I was doing well as we approached the halfway point of the climb. But it helped spur me on. Upon reaching the top it was surprising to say I was still alive and even had a little gas left in the tank, which was a good thing because a couple of minutes later I spotted a large mob of deer out in the middle of an open paddock.

They were about 200m away but with the wind favourable and a tree and a small crest for cover, I decided to try my luck. The first 50m was easy as the lay of the land kept me covered but it flattened out quicker than I hoped it would, so my walk became a belly crawl. With nine deer in the mob, it was just too many sets of eyes to risk an approach any other way.

At the 100m mark I had to stop as I spotted a fox out of the corner of my eye heading straight towards me. I hunkered down and watched this incredible little critter walk straight past me at no more than 5m away, seemingly with no clue I was there. At that point I thought to myself that this was a successful hunt, whether I shoot anything or not.

A few minutes later I reached the relative safety of the lone tree, which gave me cover and time to assess the situation. Of the nine deer, I could see a fantastic stag, a spiker and the rest were does. The stag was not on the cards unfortunately as he was at 60 yards and had plenty of does in between us.

The spiker on the other hand was only 30 yards away and standing broadside. By now the blood was really pumping at the thought of finally taking my first deer. With arrow nocked and at full draw with a good anchor, I stepped out to take my shot. The spiker had not noticed me until the wind and noise of the arrow in flight went straight over the top of his back. What went wrong?

After that, the trek back down the hill felt longer than the climb up. Upon reflection in the ute on the way home, replaying the shot over and over in my head I figured out what had gone awry. In the heat of the moment, I thought to myself: ‘Thirty yards, third pin, shoot.’ How dumb can you be when your third pin is set for 40 yards. With that, the monkey was still hanging around.

A month later we had decided on an early morning hunt in a small area we had access to that often held good numbers. With a quick plan made, we split up about 50m apart and moved in the same direction. I noticed some movement in front of Peter so I quickly nocked an arrow just in case. It turned out to be the right decision as Peter spooked a mob of deer and they headed my way. It was crazy, with most of them bolting straight past me at about 20 yards. But two stopped in front of me at roughly 30 yards.

I was already at full draw by then and it only took a split second to pick one and touch off the shot. There wasn’t time to over-think it, just aim and release. Everything felt smooth as I watched the arrow smack into my target, dropping it on the spot. Peter heard the shot and the unmistakable thud of an arrow hitting its target, then he picked up my yelling out in celebration of finally achieving my first.

With closer inspection, we found I had tagged a good-sized spiker. After congratulations from Peter and photos taken, the work was about to begin. Peter was kind enough to show me the best and quickest way to break down this beast and obtain as much meat as possible. Plus, he suggested we take the very small antlers as it was my first, and he would make something out of them for me to remember my feat. And that he did. A couple of weeks later he presented me with two bottle openers he had made out of them. They looked and worked fantastic.

A couple of months from then the rut was in full swing and my hopes were high. I had never actually heard a rusa roar and was interested in learning how to call one in. So, YouTube became my new best friend. With a bit of practice, I thought that my imitation of a stag was pretty close, so I hit Peter up to join me for a morning hunt. My main goal was to harvest a stag with my bow, but I asked Peter to bring his .300 Blackout in case we found one out of bow range. I had no issues with using a rifle to get the job done.

It was a wonderful morning for a hunt with no clouds around and little wind to speak of, so we left the warmth of the car to pursue our quarry. The crisp morning air was alive with the sounds of rutting stags but unfortunately for us, all the action was away on the other side of the valley on another property that we did not have access to. So the only thing we could do was watch.

They were feeding out in the morning sun with what looked like 20 does, five stags moving around them and an absolute monster stag running the show. We spotted a small satellite stag closer to our position being vocal so I decided to give him a call and see what happened. I let out a roar and had a response quite quickly. After a couple more roars I had his attention and he was heading my way. As exciting as that was, we also noticed a hunter on that property, so we decided to leave him to it and headed back up into the hill of our designated hunting area.

Unfortunately for us it was all quiet with absolutely no action at all. The excitement of the morning was dissipating quickly, with not even the sight of a doe in our area. In a last-ditch attempt we picked a spot and decided to let out a couple of roars in the hope of a roaming stag. Waiting patiently and hoping to hear something in return, the sound of silence is all we got.

With that it felt like our day was done so we started to move off. Not 50m on Peter happened to glance back towards the hill we hoped was holding a stag. The hunting gods must have been on our side that morning as he spotted a mid-sized stag peering over the lantana at us about 120 yards away.

Being well out of bow range, Peter offered me the rifle and gave me a tip on how much fall I should allow for as the .300 Blackout was only sighted in to zero at 75m. With that in mind and a small target area, I moved myself into position, picked my aiming point and squeezed off the shot. With virtually no recoil I was able to watch the young stag drop on the spot as the projectile hit its mark, finishing him instantly.

The realisation of what just happened slowly set in as we made our way up through the lantana to his location, which was not an easy task by any means but well worth the effort. He couldn’t have dropped in a better spot as the area was clear and not steep, which made it easier for photos and meat retrieval. What a morning…

As it has turned out, I had managed to harvest two young stags with a bow and rifle in a short space of time. Perhaps soon I will take out one of the big boys we saw. One thing is for sure – 15 years in and I’m only just getting started.