“Sometimes I dearly hate whitetails!”
My humbled, mumbled comment brought a snicker from my hunting partner, J. Wayne Fears. I was glad it was only a small laugh and my friend had recovered a bit. Only moments before he had been laughing so hard I thought he might actually fall and roll around on the ground.
I shook my head in disgust mixed with disgrace! “I guess you could truthfully say you got skunked on this last set up!” said Fears, his snicker again turning to a loud, robust laugh!
I had long prided myself in my ability to rattle up whitetails, be it “Up North” or as now in my native Texas. Over the years I had rattled in, quite frankly, more bucks than the average serious whitetail deer hunter gets to see in his or her lifetime! For years I had been on a roll.
I could only assume my string of great successes of enticing mature whitetails to respond to my rattling horns would continue.
My friend, legendary outdoor writer J. Wayne Fears, had joined me in the South Texas Brush Country on one the ranches I managed at the time as a wildlife biologist. The property had been under a solid whitetail deer/wildlife management program for five years prior to my inviting Wayne to come hunt with me. I had timed his arrival when normally whitetail bucks readily respond to the sounds of two antlers being banged and meshed together imitating mature bucks in dire combat. Those same several days had in the past produced many encounters with wild-eyed, drooling, rut-crazed rattled-in bucks.
Mr. Fears arrived the day after a cold front had passed through the region. Temperatures were dropping, no doubt local whitetail bucks’ testosterone levels would be at an annual high; perfect conditions for rattling in bucks!
First morning, we left camp before daylight. As predawn darkness turned to gray light, we were set up right where I wanted to be. Any buck that would circle to get down wind of us to catch our scent, as most whitetail bucks tend to do when responding to rattling horns, would be seen.
I started with a series of grunts, rubbed antlers on brush, snort-wheezed, then clashed the rattling horns (two shed mule deer antlers) together, at the same time kicking the ground with both feet to simulate two bucks pushing against each other. I kept up “the fight” for a full minute, then jerked the two big sheds apart and waited.
I had fully expected to see younger bucks come charging in as soon as I started my sequence. The day before Fears’ arrival I had seen five shooter bucks and six younger bucks working scrapes in the immediate area. The property’s buck to doe ratio was one buck per one doe with a density of a deer per eight acres – lots of bucks!
In spite of all my efforts, nothing responded. After about five minutes I did another rattling sequence. Still no bucks. I rattled a third time. Nothing! I could not believe it! There should have been at least eleven or more bucks within easy hearing distance.
Knowing older, mature, wary bucks often take their time in responding to rattling horns, I waited forty minutes before moving about six hundred yards distant to rattle. Again, same results or rather no positive results. I tried a third and fourth place, all usually lousy with bucks! I rattled throughout the day, knowing that sometimes bucks respond best during mid-day. Nothing!
Next day I had the same results. No matter what I did with my rattling horns, I could not so much as even rattle in a mere yearling spike buck!
Third morning I rattled three more prime spots. No deer!
I had been saving a special remote creek bottom in case I needed to pull an ace out of the hole. Fears and I still-hunted our way into the tall grass bull mesquite “flat” adjacent to a free-flowing creek. It was here a few days before I had seen a buck that was well into the record book quality, easily 170s B&C.
The slight breeze from the north stopped when I started meshing “horns” together. Immediately I heard something running toward us through the waist-high grass. I glanced at Fears, exaggerated a wink, then continued rattling.
Finally, it seemed a buck was responding. With any luck it would be a true South Texas “muy grande!” I scarcely took a breath anticipating the monster whitetail’s appearance! Pride swelled inside. I was about to prove to my friend and mentor I could indeed rattle in a big whitetail buck!
Suddenly I saw a flapping of wings and watched in total dismay, as the anticipated monster buck morphed into a fighting rooster! He landed on the ground about ten feet away and immediately started crowing. Fears started laughing. Just about the time it appeared he would quit, he imitated the crowing of the rooster and started guffawing all over again!
Did I tell you I sometimes hate whitetails!
We finally ambushed a good buck in a food plot, then left South Texas and headed North Texas to the spacious, and then soon to become famous Nail Ranch.
That’s how Fears and I happened to be on a ridge overlooking a gorgeous mesquite and cactus studded bottom, my rattling horns in hand. I was bound and determined to rattle in a buck for Wayne!
Soon as I started rattling I saw the tall grass below us move, a wake coming in our direction. Finally, and thankfully, I would be vindicated!
“He’s coming! Get ready!” I whispered continuing to mesh the tines of my mule deer sheds. I saw Fears raise his 7×57 Ruger No. 1 RSI loaded with a Hornady soft-point and point it in the direction of the moving grass waiting for the buck to appear.
Suddenly Fears jumped and started backing up. Coming fast at his feet was a true trophy…..skunk! I could not believe it! The responding to rattling horns skunk ran past us. Thankfully he did not spray!
I guess sometimes it is simply “tails you lose”, especially when white ”tails” are involved.
Did I happen to mention I sometimes hate whitetails!
There’s something about the deer-hunting experience, indefinable yet undeniable, which lends itself to the telling of exciting tales. This book offers abundant examples of the manner in which the quest for whitetails extends beyond the field to the comfort of the fireside. It includes more than 40 sagas which stir the soul, tickle the funny bone, or transport the reader to scenes of grandeur and moments of glory.
On these pages is a stellar lineup featuring some of the greatest names in American sporting letters. There’s Nobel and Pulitzer prize-winning William Faulkner, the incomparable Robert Ruark in company with his “Old Man,” Archibald Rutledge, perhaps our most prolific teller of whitetail tales, genial Gene Hill, legendary Jack O’Connor,Gordon MacQuarrie and many others.
Altogether, these carefully chosen selections from the finest writings of a panoply of sporting scribes open wide the door to reading wonder. As you read their works you’ll chuckle, feel a catch in your throat or a tear in your eye, and venture vicariously afield with men and women who instinctively know how to take readers to the setting of their story.
This is an anthology to sample and savor, perhaps one story at a time or in an extended session of armchair adventure. That’s a choice for each individual reader, but rest assured that on these 465 pages, there’s an abundance of opportunity to be enlightened and entertained. Buy Now
