The good news:

I had not really thought about how many years I have been hunting until the question came up on this form a few months ago. I did some remembering and decided that I started hunting deer when I was 16. This last hunting season one of my older brothers joined my group for our annual elk and deer hunt in Colorado. One of my hunting buddies is married to his daughter, my niece and he joined us through an invitation from that side of the family. I have been avoiding taking my brother to Colorado for the last five years. I DID NOT want him in camp. He had a heart attack a few years ago and even here on the flatland, he will last a few seconds doing physical labor such as swinging a sledgehammer and then he�s finished. He lasted two days at 8,000 feet and then he had to leave for lower climes. He couldn�t catch his breath. Even walking to the outhouse drained him. I love my brother dearly, but I don�t want to see him die on a hunting trip. That�s why I didn�t take him with me in years past, even though he told me he wanted to go. Telling an older brother that he won�t cut it isn�t easy. I couldn�t do it, so I took the coward�s way out and just left early each year.

While he was in camp, we talked over old times around a campfire, hunts long past. During the conversation my brother mentioned loaning me a rifle when I was a kid just starting to hunt deer. That brought back a forgotten memories. I started hunting when I was 14, not 16. I bought my first rifle at age 16. Remembering that borrowed rifle gave me an additional 2 hunting seasons that I totally forgot.

Now the bad news:

No luck in Colorado. I did fill a buck and a doe tag here in North Dakota. I took the second biggest buck I ever took, but it wasn�t pleasant.

Adding the discovered years to my total hunting experience, I have hunted for 43 years. In all that time, I have never gut shot a deer. I was proud of that and a bit smug. My older brothers taught me not to take a shot unless I could place it exactly where I wanted it.

I came on the buck after sunset and just before legal shooting time close. I still had plenty of light. Distance, a bit over a 100 yards.

I sided out from behind some shoulder high clover, squatted into a solid kneeling position and took careful aim. I saw the buck clear as can be through the scope. He was grazing and had no idea I was there. It was close to a broadside shot with his head and shoulder turned slightly from me. Then he took a step and put some brush between us.

I moved to my left to clear the brush, took a kneeling rest, and started my trigger squeeze. I was rock steady and the buck was standing still chewing grass.

About that time a pheasant took off right next to me. The bird was so close, I felt air off the bird�s wings on my face. The disturbance pulled my aim the same fraction of a second I pulled the trigger. I knew the moment the shot went off that it was a bad shot.

The buck didn�t run off. He sort of bunched up in the middle and walked off. A few steps and he was out of sight behind a rock pile. My luck there was fresh snow on the ground.

I made sure I had a flashlight in my fanny pack and went after the buck. The tracks were easy to follow. There was a blood trail. It sickened me to find most of the buck�s intestines on the ground about a 50 yards from the spot where I shot him. It sickened me even more when he made a CRP field with shoulder high clover.

Fortunately, he didn�t go far into the clover before bedding down. I got within 20 feet several times, only to hear him run. I couldn�t see to get a shot because of the thick cover. The clover was brown, the buck was brown. Hard to see. I heard him, saw clover move, but never saw him. I did notice that he always ran either left or right, never straight ahead.

By now it was dark. I was tracking by flashlight. The next time I heard the buck run, I ran sideways paralleling him. That did it. He stopped to listen for me and he stopped in a lane. I saw enough of him silhouetted against a background of snow for a neck shot. I took it and ended it. Gutting the buck I found that I put the shot right through his small intestines. There was a softball size hole where the intestines fell out. Not much crap in the cavity. That was good.

I hoisted the buck up on a scale when I got him home. He went 260 gutted. I had a hell of a time dragging him out to my pickup and then had a hell of a time loading him. I rigged a come-along and winched him aboard.

I went back to where I fired the first shot. I saw my tracks and where the pheasant bedded down in the snow for the night. My footprint was inches from the bird.

Sickening shot. Humbling experience. I did everything right, and still screwed it up.

I�m still studying the rack and thinking about it. From the unusual configuration, he may be a hybrid. I haven�t measured him, but it will be a good number. He has numerous split points. Don�t know what to make of them or how to count them.

Took a doe a few days later. Clean shot, instant kill.

Freezer is full of some prime meat.

Roger
Unfortunately sometimes things happen while hunting and a shot is muffed. The only thing we can do is handle it the best we can and try not to get to upset about it. I think you handled the situation very well.

As far as your brother goes I have to disagree with you on that one. Some of the best memories I have is of older relatives and friends that have came to hunting camp. They may be too old to participate in the hunt but they are still welcome at my camp. They hang around camp and just add to the atmosphere of the situation. They don't have to (or are expected to) do any of the camp chores, they are there just because they (and me) want them to. The nights stories around the camp fire with the old ones are just priceless. You should see the look in their eyes when someone brings an animal into camp, they just sparkle!

IMHO you are missing out on one of the greatest pleasures in hunting that is the sharing the moments with someone who is not physically able to hunt anymore.

As they say 'shit happens' main thing is you got your buck. If there ever was a next time or should it happen to anyone else then wait 20 minutes plus. Depending on the circumstances I'd rather leave the area and go and hunt another area for a couple of hours before I come back. By that time the deer has lain up and either died or stiffened such that a careful follow up will recover it.

I did not understand how bad your brother was. In this case I would agree with you that your hunting camp is not a good place for him. Is there any chance he could get on portable O2 and thus be able to spend some time at camp?