Heavy clouds hung low across the oak and cedar covered hills. Lightning flashed and thunder clashed. I glanced at Dustin Blankenship, cameraman for our ‘DSC’s Trailing the Hunter’s Moon.” Dustin pointed to his camera. Rain and cameras are not a good mix. I nodded, then we made a run for an enclosed deer blind two hundred yards distant.
First a few drops fell. Then rain drops increased in size and number. They were cold, almost slushy. More, bigger and colder raindrops followed. Just as we dove into the blind, the sky opened to a deluge! The sky grew dark and rain fell at such a rate I expected to see fish swimming through it.
We waited for the rain to subside. I hoped it would. Nearly forty minutes passed before it did. When it let up, I could hear what had been a “gurgling brook” now rumbling loudly, swollen with flood water. Thankfully we would not have to cross it to get back to camp.
Thirty minutes of “daylight” remained before we would be out of camera light. Stepping out of the enclosed blind, I could hear the distinctive “roar” of an axis stag. “Sounds like a mature chital stag and he’s not that far away!” I told Dustin.
Dustin looked at me questioningly, “Chital? I thought that was an axis buck.”
“Is!” I responded, “In India where axis deer are originally from they are known as chital. Unfortunately, we’ll run out of camera light before we can get into a position for a shot. Sit and listen. Chances are he’ll be somewhere near there in the morning.”
We sat back against a rock and waited. Other axis stags opened up. We could distinguish no less than seven different bucks. The late afternoon June rain storm had turned on the Axis roar and rut.
Later that evening sitting around the campfire with Blake Barnett, my TV show co-host and his cameraman Al Shacklett, we compared notes. Blake and Al had “ridden out” the storm in Blake’s pickup. They had seen several axis bucks right before the rain started and planned to go back into the area before first light. Dustin and I would walk the area between camp and where we had hunted before the rain came.
At first light we heard several roaring axis stags, but we could not close the deal. The cedar was simply to thick to get a clear shot.
Mid-morning, after meeting Blake and Al, we heard three roaring stags. Blake and I decided to go after the buck in the creek bottom. His loud, coarse roar sounded like that of a mature animal.
In a matter of minutes, we were within a hundred yards of the stag. We eased forward very cautiously, continually scanning the trees and brush ahead. I spotted the stag through the cedars moving left to right. Grabbing Blake’s shoulder, I pointed him toward where I had seen the buck just as he disappeared behind a wall of brush. Blake moved forward slightly and he too caught sight of the stag.
I watched him raise his .308 Win, Ruger Number 1 loaded with Hornady’s American Whitetail ammo. A couple of seconds later he moved to his right, held steady his aim, took a deep breath, let it out, then squeezed the trigger. The buck fell at the shot. Blake quickly reloaded the single-shot, but none was necessary.
Moments later I extended a congratulatory hand to Blake. He had just taken his first axis stag, but something told me as I shook his hand, it was not going to be the last one!