Last night, in company of my future son in law, I was ambushing the spooky old buck that was playing games with me since weeks. Twice before and for a brief instant, I've had him in my scope but at a wrong angle and I lifted my finger, not wanting to tear him up. We were sitting for 2 hours, watching does and kids come and go when finally, at 21:45, a big shape appeared at the edge of the wood. A quick glance through the binos, confirmed it was a large buck. He still was hesitating to step out in the clearing and remained hidden by the bushes. However, his size, the height of the antlers and that long frontal tine (all I could make out) left no doubt : there he was. I shouldered my rifle and aimed at an opening just in front of the animal. Finally, with half an hour daylight remaining, he took one step and uncovered his shoulder. I let fly and he dropped like a sack� I held on an excited Christopher, who wanted to jump off the ladder and run to the bush where the buck disappeared and, pretending to be calm and relaxed, told him to wait 10' in case he wasn't dead already. 3' later, I expertly concluded it should be the case and off we went in the fading light. 100 m down the clearing, lay the very dead large Roebuck. I nearly fainted when I kneeled near the body : heavy antlers, 6 points all right but, not the one I was after and definitely not as impressive a trophy� Damn me, I shot a wrong one ! My turn was over for this season as only 1 buck remained to be shot in compliance with the legal shooting plan and 3 fellow hunters haven't shot yet (my only hope now lies in the fact they don't come often and are bad shots who miss most of the time (I shouldn't think like that, I know, but I'm no holier than the pope either ). Last year, they couldn't connect and I was called in a few days before closing date to help make the number, which I agreed to very helpfully�

Still, I try to look at the positive side of my adventure :

1. a hard lesson of humility. After years of experience and many succeses, one becomes complacent and starts to think he knows it all, mistakes being for the others. Well one thing is for sure, you can't recall a flying bullet and erase a bullet hole� ;
2. shot placement. The buck folded down, my theory of aiming for the aorta knot (see, I'm teaching lessons again, damn old f**t�), got supported by a third reference (3 examples still don't make a law, but it betters the previous 2) ;
3. my daughter's boyfriend, who often comes along, dearly wanted to witness an actual shooting and he's beaming now (usually, he's either sitting on another highseat or walking through the woods to keep game on the move and, while he sees lots of it, he always arrived after hearing the shot).

Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa .

Andr� Mertens,

This one is for sure good to eat

You need to wait till next year (I guess) so the old roebuck will have 7 years next year very old isn't it.

Thanks for sharing your expereince with us.

Andre',

Been there, done that, got the tee shirt!

Just be glad you can eat your mistakes.

Don

Yep, I've done the same thing more than a few times. Most times I could blame it on gradually failing light. More recently I can begin to blame it on gradually failing vision. But like the feller said, at least you can eat your mistakes.

Thanks for helping me find excuses, fellows. I'll just call it a more advanced stage of plain old buck fever. A "greenhorn" will be so rattled and shaking that, very often, he'll miss. We, older hands, get very good at maintaining a cool, � la John Wayne, composure (the kind of show off that so much impresses rookies ). As for myself, I'm excited when I spot game, then cool off very fast as soon as I bring up the rifle until I'm totally absorbed by things technical (distance, wind, possible flight route if wounded, aiming spot, backstop for bullet, line up the crosshairs, half-deflate lungs, aim, squeeze, BANG). At this very moment - and while an onlooker would still be very much impressed (at least I hope so as I'm working very hard at it...) by my professional and cold attitude,if one could take a look at what goes on inside of me, he'd find a trembling mass of jelly, trying to talk sense into itself for not rushing the spot where the animal went down . I'm not blushing to admit it as I've often remarked that, come the day I become so mentally disciplined as to be able to kill without emotion, I'd quit hunting right there as the hunter-me would have evolved into a cold blooded killer...

[ 06-22-2002, 19:39: Message edited by: Andr� Mertens ]

Andr�,did that my self, and more than ones
The artora knot....tell me more about it. Any pics or drawings??
Always eager to learn...and roes are defenately good eating

Arild, when you shoot an animal through the heart, 2 scenarios are possible :
1. the heart is full of blood (diastole) and explodes like a water-melon. Collapsus is instataneous ;
2. the heart contracts and expells blood (systole). Even a high velocity bullet wil only punch a hole through the deflated "sack". Blood will leak in the body cavity but the heart will still be pumping blood (albeit lesser and lesser) to the brain and the animal will run for a distance as long as the brain gets irrigated.

So, the classic heart shot is only a 50/50 proposition in terms of instant demise.

Now, if you aim for the aorta knot (see "X" on drawing), you will immediately cut off the blood supply to the brain (in effect, disconnecting the latter) and coma is instantaneous.


[ 06-25-2002, 20:49: Message edited by: Andr� Mertens ]

Andr� Mertens,

Very interresting post on heart shooting.

Andre

I have done the same and there is nothing more to do about it. It have happend for me more than once. Hope the buck will live untill next time

/ JOHAN