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As usual, Saturday morning comes around and I find myself having breakfast alone as the rest of my family is still sleeping. It is November 14, and with my bowl of cereal slowly disappearing, I started to ponder whether or not to head out to my favourite hunting spot just fifteen minutes away. As all whitetail hunters know, the anticipation of what we might see while perched eighteen feet up in a tree overpowers us and we find ourselves heading out to our favourite tree.
I arrive at my spot and begin the ritual of changing into my hunting attire that has been carefully stored in containers to assist in scent control. A final check to make sure I have all my necessary gear and a thorough spraying down with a scent eliminator will ensure the best chance to outsmart a whitetail.
It is about 7:30 a.m. and the walk is a short one as the chosen stand for today is only about three hundred yards from the landowner’s house. As I am slowly making my way to the stand, walking on an outdoor carpet that sounds much like the raw cereal I was eating just a few minutes ago, I realize there is not much chance of sneaking up on a whitetail while on the ground. After reaching my stand, I am feeling positive as I didn’t hear or see any deer bust out during my walk.
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Two of the three coyotes Wayne shot before his buck appeared. |
The stand of choice this morning is a ladder stand overlooking a low spot with intersecting trails merging to a tee at about twenty yards. Upon getting in the stand, I do the customary tie-in with my full body harness, hoist up my backpack and bow and proceed to get comfortable. With life being as busy as it is, I cherish the quiet, peaceful time I am fortunate enough to have while out in the bow zone near Edmonton. I use my rangefinder to verify my memory of various landmarks in case a shot opportunity should arise.
The morning starts out with the sounds of mice scurrying about doing their daily business and squirrels start to chatter to each other. A great horned owl silently glides past and perches in a tree about sixty yards away. With his head on a swivel, he is checking me out and searching for those busy mice throughout the forest floor.
I decide to give a few grunts with my call in hopes of enticing a good buck to check out the visitor he thinks is invading his territory. There is a well-used trail in front of me with shooting lanes cut clear to spots at about 22 and 26 yards. I grab my rattling antlers and begin to lightly tickle them together for my first sequence of the morning. Fifteen minutes has elapsed so I get a little more aggressive with the rattling antlers I faithfully haul out to the stand every trip at this time of year.
It is now about 8:45 and I hear some footsteps off to my right. I’m hoping my rattling has caught the interest of a soon to be wall hanger. I can hear the steps approaching quite close now but the brush is so heavy I have no visual. Soon I spot movement and realize it is a wily coyote searching for a breakfast of mice, while easing his way through the underbrush. Immediately some thoughts come to mind, the morning has been slow so far and at the landowner’s request, I began to prepare to get rid of the coyote. Upon grabbing my bow off the hanger and clipping my release into the D-loop, I was ready to do my deed as the coyote walked in front of my stand. At about twenty yards, I noticed he had friends with him. There was a second, third, and fourth coyote coming through the underbrush. Over the years I’ve seen many coyotes while hunting, one or two at a time but never four.
The first coyote changed his direction and began to head on a course that would take him behind my stand and being a right-hand shot, I would have to turn to my left and wait for him to clear the back of the tree. Thankfully, the noise of them walking on the forest floor camouflaged my ever-so slow movement as I turned on the stand in preparation for a shot. The first coyote came into view past the back of the tree and started up a slight hill behind me at about 25 yards. I drew my bow and sent an arrow through him. He leaped up and crawled over the hill and out of sight. To my surprise, the second coyote was following on almost the same trail. I nocked another arrow and sent it through the second dog and he too bolted over the hill to what would be his final resting spot. I thought I must be in a dream when the third one proceeded down the same path, and a beauty he was. He was much larger than the first two and sported a lush fur coat. I can only think that the noise of the crunchy floor is what masked the sound of the shots and why they kept on the trail. I sent an arrow through the third coyote and he crawled slowly over the hill with a major hurt on.
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Wayne Schultz with the whitetail buck he rattled to his stand. |
What an experience, I thought as I looked down at my quiver that held my last remaining arrow. I thought I better let the fourth coyote go even if I did get a chance because if a deer comes by and I have no carbon left, I would be extremely disappointed. I know this is hard to believe but this thought was barely out of my mind when I heard the unmistakable crunching of a deer’s footsteps coming down the trail I was initially there to observe. I slowly turned my head to the front and I could see a decent whitetail approaching fast. He must have been coming to check out the rattling I had done a few minutes earlier. I reached down and popped out the last arrow I had and nocked it; all the while slowly turning to face the trail he was approaching on. The moment I hit full draw I grunted to stop the deer as he was already in my 26-yard shooting lane. With the pin settled slightly behind his front shoulder, I sent my last arrow on a flight that would conclude a morning I would never forget. The deer jumped up, wheeled around, ran off about fifty yards to the north, and stopped. He was looking around trying to figure out what just happened. He was dead but didn’t know it yet. He turned and walked out of sight.
Hunters dream of days like this and that is what keeps the fire alive to leave the house at what my wife says is “some un-Godly hour.”
While leaving the deer, I thought I would recover my arrows and try to locate the coyotes that managed to disappear behind my stand. I found two arrows and two of the coyotes but never located the third, as it must have made it farther into the thick brush. I do believe it was a lethal hit on that coyote and my conscience tells me that all three coyotes perished that morning.
I recovered my deer very close to where I had last seen him. I placed the tag on him, took some photos and proceeded to start with the work ahead of me. The deer wasn’t that big, only about a 132-inch 5x5, but with the next two weeks being very busy in our household, I was extremely happy with the morning I’d had.
I would like to thank the landowner and all of the other landowners for the many years of free therapy sessions they have allowed me to attend. And I can’t forget to thank my family for allowing me the time to enjoy the sport I love so much. ■
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