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I would not outright show my excitement but the truth is I was exploding with excitement for my 13 year old son as the thought of him big game hunting at my side was soon becoming a reality. He had been with me a couple of times before but this time he was carrying a borrowed rifle from his grandfather and he had his own tags. The week before he had been with me as I successfully harvested a cow moose and I could see the excitement in his eyes as we spoke.
Like many proud fathers before me I am sure, I barely slept a wink in anticipation of the next day and my son’s first deer hunt.
The alarm went off at 5 a.m. so that we could have a good breakfast and of course a coffee for Dad. Off we went with the George Canyon song “Son I wish I could be more like you” playing on the radio as we traveled south on Hwy 2.
We arrived before sunrise hoping to get in place well before the game started moving. I planned on having him watch an intersecting set of cutlines where I had seen animals taken in the past. There was sign to support activity again this year. The ground had a crust of frost from the cool temperatures overnight but would likely warm up during the day and make things a little messy but quiet for us in the afternoon for walking. There were only trace amounts of snow in the area we hunted southwest of Edmonton.
No sooner did we get set up when another hunter came from where we parked and wanted to go up the line to the west. I didn’t see it being a problem and you never know he could have easily pushed something right past us in the process. We watched from the cover of some trees and it wasn’t long before a couple hundred yards in front of us four white-tailed does crossed. My son took a knee and looked through his scope but they were on a mission to get back under cover and didn’t present enough time for a shot. We watched a while longer and then I said, “Son, let’s start moving slowly up the line.”
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| Perseverance paid off for Marshall and his dad. |
We made our way slowly with the wind in our faces, stopping frequently and listening until we reached a narrow line that went to the northwest. I knew it to be a great spot and thought we might even see the does we had seen earlier. As we began our stalk only 30 yards in we got busted by the does. They proceeded to snort and show us only their bright, white tails raised high as they bounded through the mixed aspen cover only a few yards away. We looked at each other and I said, “Be patient. One may present itself yet for us, be ready.” We continued on through a slight bend in the trail and as we came out of it there was a big doe standing almost perfectly broadside at 65 yards away. Earlier in the morning I said to Marshall, “A doe or buck would be just fine.” He surprised me by again taking a knee and resting his elbow on the other to try to get a steady shot. He found the doe in his scope and pulled the trigger only to find that the safety was still on. He went to click it off but our time was up and the doe headed back into the bush. I reassured him that it was okay and that it has happened to us all. He did not seem bothered by it and we proceeded with an increased level of anticipation.
We got within about 50 yards from the end of the trail where it opens up into a clearing when we saw three deer trot with tails down steadily in the clearing going left to right in front of us. I said it was likely the does we had seen earlier, but we should make an attempt of getting in position in case the fourth presents itself. No sooner did we get within a few yards from the end of the trail when a good buck crossed hot on the heels of the does. We picked up our pace in the hopes of a shot at the buck. We dodged and weaved thought the last remaining scrub brush between us and the open field and there he was, a heavy 3X3 whitetail buck, nose to the ground and completely oblivious to our presence. For the third time in an hour and a half Marshall took up a position to shoot but when he acquired the deer in the scope he took notice of the cattle and farm outbuildings some four hundred yards away and he chose not to shoot. I could not have been prouder of him at this point and of course supported his decision. It was only a year ago that I would have been almost terrified to walk with him in the bush with a gun as he did not yet understand the respect it deserves.
Just this past summer he had completed the Alberta hunter training and firearms safety training courses offered through the Alberta Hunters Education Instructors Association. What a transformation; he had an increased level of confidence and respect for the firearm he carried today. I would hunt at his side any time with this new found mature quality.
We proceeded to watch the deer closely in the event we had a clear shot but it ended up back into some cover. We decided to set up at the end of the cover with the hope he would present himself out the other side. But after an hour we decided that he must have winded us and went elsewhere.
It was approaching noon by now and the days were short and getting shorter. I knew we had a chance of seeing deer moving at any point during the day. We made our way to the south end of the clearing and set up in a big pile of deadfall to get a good view of the field. I tried rattling in hopes a deer would show up but after an hour we started to get cold and decided to try another area nearby.
We started to head southeast out of the clearing back to cutlines and truck trails. We then turned directly south and now had a crosswind, which in some cases can work for you. This trail was overgrown and sheltered from the sun so the leaves on the ground were not doing much for our stealth as we made our way. We could see old deer sign along the trail when 50 yards ahead of us stood a buck broadside with one side of his antlers completely broken off. I said, “Son. Deer. Take him!” Down he went on his knee, off went the safety this time and a crack of his .243 rang in the crisp air. I thought I saw the bullet impact for a high shoulder shot but wasn’t sure.
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| Marshall Courchene with his first whitetail buck! |
I asked, “Where did you aim?” He replied, “Low behind the shoulder.” We waited about five minutes and then went to where we thought the deer was standing to look for a blood trail. We scanned the ground with anticipation of seeing some blood on the mixed leaves or frost that covered the trail. A few minutes of searching we didn’t see any blood. I said that it was not uncommon for the animal to not bleed for a little while depending of the shot placement and effectiveness of the bullet. At this point we started searching in a semi circle pattern around where we thought he was hit, but still no blood could be found. We increased the size of our search and ended up back on the trail empty handed and surprised at the possibility that he may have missed the mark. No blood trail, no sign, no nothing but a son and his dad shaking their heads as to what had just happened. Some hard learned lesson in the field told me not to give up the search just yet. I had a good feeling about the shot and that we should not give up just yet. So back we went to increase our radius once again. As we combed the area a little further this time crossing over a well used game trail I said, “Marshall, there he is!” As we made our way up to the young buck from behind I said, “Give him a poke and make sure he’s down.” There was no movement. I proceeded to shake Marshall’s hand and gave a small prayer thanking the Lord for providing us with the animal and experiences of the day.
Marshall had his deer and memories that I hope will last him for the rest of his life as I know they will me. It’s just too bad he’s going to have a hard time eating jerky with braces on. ■ |
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