The Last Hunt

 

My favorite place for hunting and relaxing, years ago was in the river valley where I grew up and lived for 15 years. The valley is located just below a ledge of limestone that ran for miles along the Peshtigo River, north of Harmony. This several mile-wide valley followed the coppery colored river that is bordered with a limestone outcropping that rises 50 – 60 feet on the western side.

At the top of the ledge, I could see for miles, across the river, beyond more farms and glimpse the Tamarack bog in the distance. During the peak of fall color, the beauty of the valley is amplified. Four families lived in this side of the river valley and called it home, two of them farming the land, a vacation home in the river, and hobby farm owned then by my parents. The crops in the fields were now stored in the barns, and only the stubble of the cornrows showed, as if waiting for the covering of the 1st snowfall. Every so often the lazy flow of the river cutting through the valley peaked out from the colorful hues of the trees, and along with the view of the fall foliage, it was, as always, breath taking.

The foliage was bursting forth in fall colors with the golden hues of the maples, along with the amber, orange, and red flags of higher branches in the trees as if shouting, “notice me.” The shimmering yellow of the poplars, birches, and ash, and the dark greens of the evergreens dotting the landscape - much like exclamation points - added more colors to the canvas of my mind’s eye for years to come. This ledge of limestone became my mother’s byline and title (under the ledge) of many articles in her writings as she entered the areas writing contests. It also became my blog’s name in tribute to her.

It was the start of Thanksgiving week, traditional deer opener in Wisconsin, and I had spent the previous two weekends scouting where I wanted to be opening morning at daybreak. I had selected the perfect place to lay in wait in the middle of 40 acres of woods at the crest of a knoll, in a comfortable crotch of a Sugar Maple tree as the best place to ambush a wily buck.

I had driven from Hudson, WI. the day before, and it was unseasonably warm with the temps in the 60's! I arose at 3AM to have breakfast, pour a thermos of coffee, and to get dressed in my blaze orange gear. I hiked out to my tree about a good mile away, crossing a gravel lane, a harvested cornfield, a small gurgling creek, and walked into the woods. It was still dark out, and as I walk and listening to the crunch of the leaves underfoot, I heard a rustling of the brush to my right and figured I had spooked a deer from its bed. Evidently, my selected hunting area was also a desirable place for deer to bed down for the night. I felt the rise of the terrain to the knoll, walked to the top of it, and there was the Maple tree. I climbed the tree into the branches and pulled up my rifle and made myself comfortable.

As dawned approached, I heard a squirrel chatter, then jump into my tree, and exited from the other side into another tree. He was on his way, to the distant oak tree by the field. The woods came alive with sounds of the forest, as more wildlife started moving about, and the birds were singing their songs welcoming the crack of dawn. Slowly, the silence returned to the woods and surrounding areas became peaceful, and in the silence my mind I wandered as if in another time. I had a panoramic view and there was truly little I could not see. I watched, waited, and listened, always on the alert for my buck to walk into view. Suddenly, I heard noise coming in from my left, looked and there was a hunter walking below the rise of my knoll. He did not see me, and as he disappeared, I realized any deer in the area would also lay low now and this would be a good time to pour myself a cup of coffee from my thermos.

An ebony raven chuckled in the sky overhead, sounding it alerts to all that would hear on this bright sunny day. The sweet, fragrant scent of fresh pine and cedar mingled in the still morning air, a rich, pleasant aroma that never leaves the senses once it enters.

Another couple of hours passed, and I heard a gunshot off to the east at the edge of the woods, and someone yelling, “I got it.” The voice sounded like one of my neighbor friends from the valley. Soon other voices joined the exchange, and I knew it was the neighborhood hunting party, and figured I may as well get down and join the group. I made sure I made some noise along with talking, so as not to surprise anyone, and walked out of the brush at the edge of the woods. A neighbor had shot a doe and was talking about doing a drive to clean out the woods as he had seen a buck slip into that area moments after he shot the doe. He decided he would carry the deer on his shoulders out of the woods, and he would then post at the top of the ledge on the road.

Since, we knew each other, I joined up with them, and we posted 4 hunters, Sam, Jim, Clyde, and Kenny on the other side along the road, with Sam being down a farm lane where he could have good shooting if they flushed out in the harvested cornfields by him. Sam had been injured in a farming accident several years before and had lost his right eye, so he liked clear shots. The fields would give him that opportunity. The woods followed a creek bed, along the limestone outcropping, and I was to walk just below the top of the ledge.

Since the wooded area was only about 150 feet wide at this point, another friend, Charlie, walked below me along the edge of the field and creek. Thus, we had 2 drivers, Charlie and me, for flushing the deer. We had walked for 15 minutes and were within 100 yards of the road, and as planned, the buck along with two does flushed into the field, except they were at the top of the ledge and not in the cornfield below us. The buck would be an easy peasy shots for me, and I could already see him hanging in the tree, but for the moment some patience also was needed as a farmhouse was now silhouetting the deer. I calmly waited for the deer to move more to my left and I aligned my sights on the buck’s brisket and followed his movement. Finally, he was almost to the area of a clear shot with open fields behind him.

I took a deep breath and just as I was ready to squeeze the trigger, I heard a buzzing sound, much like a deer fly or angry bees, then another - and another -whizzing by my head and chest. These were followed by the cracks of a rifle from below, and another bullet hit the rocks in front of me, spraying my pants legs with rock fragments, only then did I then start to realize what was happening. It was as if I was in a dream, and nothing was making any sense. I was ready to shoot; yet I was now the target! Or at least I was in the way of the intended target. Time seemed to stand still, as I froze with nowhere to hide. Charlie, by this time had dived behind a log and was looking up the ledge towards me, motioning for me to hit the deck, yet I had nowhere to go.

However, this buck was making the most of this turn of events, and in my dream-like state, I just stared at him as he scampered back into the woods. The fun of this hunt had evaporated in an instant and as I emptied my gun, I looked down the hill; Charlie was still lying behind a log! I focused down the road, and there Sam was yelling and gesturing wildly, that if I would not shoot the buck, he would do it from his position. He had tried firing around me to get the buck himself! I looked to see if I had been hit and did not see or feel any wounds. I then walked out of those woods shaking and speechless, but my mind was cussing a blue streak, and as I hit the road, Sam looked at me with a perplexed look, and I angrily yelled at him, "you are lucky, that I did not shoot back, but next time I will!” Then my mind and tongue became one and I unleashed a verbal onslaught aimed directly at him. He just shrugged his shoulders and said he did not know why I was so upset. That was the last time I talked to him or hunted.

Years have passed, and as well as a decade or two, and as I reflect on this last hunt, I know that that day, I had kept several guardian angels busy. Every fall, as I look out onto the panorama views of golden hues, flaming reds, and green exclamation points, my new choice of weapons seems so much wiser. With the camera, I can snap a picture, and still experience the joy of being close to nature and leave the area as I found it. Peaceful and quiet.