We discovered a wealth of gamebirds and grand bucks!
“Pheasant, behind!” shouted Cody Mohler. I turned, shouldering my 20-gauge Ruger Red Label. But before I could get on the long-tailed rooster another flushed, this one much closer to where I had my shotgun pointed. I swung slightly ahead of the quartering away cock and pulled the trigger. Off to my right there was another shot, and then immediately I heard my hunting partner Billy Shoemaker say, “Good shot!”
I watched as Cody’s retriever fetched the first and then the second pheasant. I love watching good bird dogs work, both points and retrieves. My viewing pleasure was interrupted by Billy whispering, “Point, other side of bush from you!”
Billy and I approached from behind, shotguns at half-port. Moving slowly forward we flushed three chuckar under foot; one flew left, two headed right. I heard Billy shoot as I was getting onto the second of the three birds. My first shot went right behind, but the second dropped the bird.
Cody’s pointer took about ten steps and locked up again. Billy and I moved in. Just in front of the pointer a covey of seven bobwhite quail flushed. I picked out a cock flying to the right and shot. He crumpled in mid-air. I swung on a second quail and it too, dropped at the shot.
“I thought you said you were not much of a shotgun shot,” commented Billy, who indeed is a fabulous shotgunner at both live game and clay birds. I smiled, frankly amazed at my day’s shotgun prowess. While I like shooting a shotgun, I very seldom do. I spend my time shooting hunting rifles and handguns.
When I originally set up my whitetail hunt with Greystone Castle Sporting Club (www.greystonecastle.com), I did not think about doing a bird hunt, even though I knew Greystone is known far and wide for their excellent upland game bird and waterfowl hunting. Before leaving home I had called Billy to tell him I would be hunting whitetails on Greystone Castle near the old Texas mining town of Mingus, a bit west of Ft. Worth. “Bring your shotgun and I’ll meet you there,” Billy had replied. “I know you can take off at least one mid-day to do a bird hunt. Greystone’s upland game bird hunting is nothing short of fantastic!”
Billy had indeed been spot-on with his evaluation. I had a fabulous time shooting birds and it rekindled my interest in shooting a shotgun!
Back at the well-appointed castle-lodge, after a quick though superbly delicious meal, I exchanged my over-under shotgun for my Ruger Number 1 chambered in .300 H&H Mag and a hand full of 180-grain Hornady ammo. I then hurried to meet Cody for our afternoon’s hunt.
Our intention was to return to the basic area where during the morning’s hunt we had seen several impressive bucks; bucks with racks which, had I not been hunting on Greystone I would have pulled the trigger on.
One buck in particular caught my attention. We spotted him on our way back to the lodge, just prior to our bird hunt. He was a basic six-by-six typical, about twenty-three inches wide with a six-inch drop-tine on the left main beam. His antlers were majestic to say the least. But he was small of body and thin-necked, obviously not yet fully mature.
“How old do you think he is?” queried Cody.
“Times like this I almost wish I was not a wildlife biologist who spent many years convincing hunters to let bucks mature before putting hunting pressure on them…I’m guessing he’s likely a four-year old. He could possibly be three based on body conformation. Either way, I can only imagine what his antlers will look like when he reaches six or seven. Then his body will be fully grown, and any nutritional intake not required for body maintenance can be channeled into antler development. No doubt he’ll be way above 200 in the future.”
As we headed toward our afternoon hunting area, I hoped we would again run into that particular buck. Really wanted another look at him!
“We’ll sit for a while and watch one of our food plots planted with Tecomate seeds,” Cody said.” But then the last forty-five minutes of the day, I think we should still hunt toward one of our bigger food plots next to a stock tank.”
“About a week ago I saw a buck there I’d really like to look for,” Cody continued. “Saw him after dark when I drove through the food plot on my way back to the lodge. He’s not overly wide, probably only about 20-inches or so outside.
“He’s got twelve long typical points with some kickers. One of the more impressive things about his rack is one brow-tine looks like it’s 18-inches long or longer. Longest brow I’ve ever seen. Too, he’s an older buck, probably at least six or seven. Hope we can find him. If we do, I got a feeling you’re going to really like him!”
From 2 o’clock until 4:30 we watched several does, fawns and a double hand full of three-year old and younger bucks. “Let’s head out. Where I want to go we’ll have the wind in our face and the sun at our back. I’d like us to be about a half mile from here at last light. We can hunt slow heading that way.” I nodded in agreement.
We had hardly gone fifty yards when we spotted a big slick ten-point. I glanced at Cody who wagged his head in a negative manner. I shrugged shoulders and then followed him.
By the time we reached the edge of the food plot where Cody had seen the long brow-tine buck, we had seen six more bucks, as well as eight does and six half-grown fawns. We carefully glassed the field. A cold front had blown in mid-afternoon and the deer were anxious to fill their rumen for the coming long, cold night.
We moved closer to the stock tank and again peered into the food plot. There were no less than twenty deer feeding in the field, but we could not find the big buck Cody hoped we would see.
The sun had been down about twenty-five or so minutes when I turned to look at a patch of tall grass on the tail end of the stock tank. Something in the tall grass looked like bare-limbed bush. Up went my binoculars. As the object came into focus it materialized into the giant rack of a whitetail buck. My jaw dropped. I pulled Cody around to look toward the tall grass. “It’s him!” I whispered excitedly. “The buck we are looking for!”
“But too close to the end of legal shooting time (which in Texas ends 30-minutes after sun set)!” I added disappointedly.
“You’re right!” responded Cody, after looking at his watch. “Don’t move, let’s see where he goes.” No sooner had my guide made that statement than the buck lowered his head and disappeared into the tall grass. We stayed and watched to see if he might slip out. He could have, but we did not see him do it. With darkness approaching, Cody advised, “Let’s back out. We’ll come back here in the morning.”
Morning found us sitting next to several oak trees where we could see about half of the food plot near where we had seen the big buck the afternoon before. We saw several nice bucks, and if the long brow-tined buck was there we did not see him.
When deer activity ceased, we built a natural ground blind of limbs and logs, near where we had seen the big buck, for the afternoon’s hunt. Then we headed back to camp for a quick lunch.
An hour later we were back at the ground blind. Another cold front was blowing through our area. With the threat of freezing weather, I felt assured the deer would start feeding early. They did!
Within thirty minutes of getting set up we had no less than 28 deer feeding in the field in front of us, some less than twenty yards away. As the afternoon progressed deer fed in and out of the field. Several excellent bucks came in and fed ravenously on the green forage. Two of them were truly impressive!
About an hour before sunset I spotted the upper tips of of a rack coming toward us from behind a rise in the field. I watched as the buck came more into view, able to see more of his rack and his body with each step he took toward us. There was no doubt it was the long brow-tined buck! He strode to within about seventy-five yards, then started feeding on the Tecomate Greenfield blend.
My crosshairs were planted on the buck’s shoulder when he turned broadside. I gently squeezed the trigger on the Ruger Number 1. The buck went down. I quickly reloaded then got back on the buck and waited for any sign of movement. He did not move again!
At the deer’s side I could not believe the size of his rack. Undoubtedly he was one of the better bucks I have ever taken. I was thrilled!
Next day we measured the long brow tine. It was over 18 inches long!