A Day of Hunting It was early one chilly fall morning, just getting ready to go hunting my Dad and I. There was hardly any rain water on the ground. The tall field corn was standing still. The birds were going bonkers from us walking out there. We could hear cars flying by on the main road. An old 1960’s John Deere tractor went by. We could hear it through our winter hats.
We could hear geese flying over our heads. They flew for a really long time. The both of us could hear the squawking far away in the distance but we could no longer see them. Then it was as quiet as night, nothing to hear but the frogs croaking.
Then about fifteen minutes later we heard something come in. We did not know what it was. My dad and I were in a two man hunting stand about seventeen feet in the air with the wind blowing in our faces. We were in an oak tree. Right above me something
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He had ran away into the corn so we ran into the corn. We saw some blood on a few pieces of corn and, I followed it. A lot of the corn was knocked down from the buck running in there and not paying attention to where it was going. Then we found a piece of my arrow it had been broke it was now about 6’’ inches long.
My Dad and I had searched for about 4 more long miserable hours. We did not seem to even come close to finding him like we thought we had when we saw the blood. It started to rain that was not good, not good at all, the rain will wash all the blood away. We searched for another half an hour of aching feet and soaking wet clothes. Sadly we did not find him and I still think to this day what it would have been like to bring a kill that home. That was one heck of a buck. That would be a buck that you put on your wall and look at it every day, and every time you look at it I would would think of the day that I shot that