Sunday, November 19, 2006 8:15 PM
Thought you might like to know.
I’m a rifle, pistol and archery hunter. Saturday morning I sat on the ground with my bow, on the side of a pretty steep hill looking down on “funnel” area. The weather was 35 degrees with an occasional swirling breeze. I was snuggled in between a 14 inch maple tree on my left and a windfall oak on my right. They were close enough together that I had to turn sideways to draw my bow.
After about an hour a doe walked out and wandered off on a trail that took her away from my shooting lane. Twenty minutes later another doe appeared and repeated the previous doe’s every move. Another hour passed when a third doe appeared. She was trotting when she came out but quickly stopped and started to feed about forty yards from my best shot area.
I waited and watched as she fed when she suddenly broke into a trot again and cut the distance between us in half before she again stopped to feed. She walked as she ate and soon came to the spot where the other doe had taken the “wrong” trail. She paused and then again broke into her trot and started right toward me. Her speed was quite deliberate and her bearing was perfect. She was soon about four yards from where the trail forked and I would have a shot either way she went.
My heart was gearing up and I was about to go to full draw when she failed to turn but instead continued straight up the hill, directly for me. Things were happening so fast I wasn’t sure what to do next.
The doe came to within three feet and then in one move, veered to my left, and jumped up the hill. In the same instant that I was relieved that she hadn’t run over me, I also realized she had stopped. Her body was motionless less than a foot and a half away and her head was just out of sight on the other side of the tree next to me. Her hind feet were balanced on the same dead branch on the ground that mine were on. I’d moved my arrow when she jumped or she would have run into it. There we were, together, separated by a tree and your Scent Loc Savannah. I sat for all of 10 or 15 seconds until I couldn’t stand it any more. I leaned back ever so slightly and looked her straight in the eye. It took her all of a second to realize what was what and then she was gone. I sat there a few minutes and then collected myself and my pack and went home for the day. Thanks for the fun.
Stephen Kantz - Corning, NY


