The Callaghan Buck

By Sean Callaghan

Callaghan Buck

So, it was a Wednesday morning. I like to hit the mid week when I know that other hunters are not in the woods. I hunt either public land and or land that any one that asks can hunt. I was waiting for a North West wind to hunt a new stand that I had my two Uncles cutting shooting lanes over the summer... while I was perched in the tree giving orders.

I had a stand close by for years and always had luck it,but knew that the big guys was not coming out of the trash. Mr. Big could see all that he wanted and still stay in the thick part of the woods. I knew that any buck coming into this patch of woods could scent check the patch and not come into the open woods. After hard scouting I thought that if I could get in that oak and get high enough I would be able to see the whole patch and not have to clear cut the low thick stuff. I did just that.

Before this great morning I passed on eight bucks from a spike horn to a nice 8-point that didn't let me think about him for very long before he was out of the shooting lane. I went in the woods with two of my friends that morning. They went off to their spots and I to mine.

At first light I had a doe and a skipper(fawn) walk in behind me. I thought, "Oh no, there goes the morning." After five minutes or so she relized that some one was in the woods. She started blowing and took off. I did the only smart thing that I could do at a time like this, curse under my breath and maybe out loud once... all though positive about the rest of the day.

After about 8 a.m. I thought I was into texting mode with guys at work and my friends in the tree. They were watching a small buck chasing a doe around and a few turkeys doing there thing. As I watched the woods I started to think that maybe this new spot wasn't what I thought it was going to be. At 9 a.m. I hadn't see a thing since that old doe caught me.

Just then I notice the horns in the trash. It was only twenty paces away. I slowly grabbed the bow off the hanger and started to point it at the buck. He looked up and I instanly become mad. Why would you make a move while this buck is walking toward you? By this time I already have the bow pointed at him. What I like to do is block out my face and the deers with the bow, it helps with camo and buck fever. Nothing gets me like the Texas show down.

He starts to walk, but really slowly. Two steps and then the nose in the air. Again and Again. What seemed like five minutes later he is eight paces away from my tree and is looking all over but is relaxed. For some reason unknow to me he desides to start walking slowly quartering away and heading to a shooting lane that will have him 15 paces tops. All I could think about was, "Aim Sean."

He walks into the lane and with out stopping him I drew, anchored, found the back rib and pulled a great shot. He ran off just a few bounds and stopped. I thought, "Oh, no." He turned and ran back toward the way he came in for another few bounds and fell over. It was not untill I walked up on him that I knew that I killed a true brut. I have a few on the wall with the bow, but not like this one. The thing that tops it off is that I was able to get him on land that gets a lot of pressure with the bow and gun.

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