Saw a car in front of me hit a deer. It ran off on three legs. I stopped, and by coincidence the driver was a boy I know. We gave the deer some time to expire or at least weaken, and set off to spoor it.
Quickly found where it had lain down and bled quite a bit. Then spent two hours and covered about two miles trying to puzzle out where it had gone from there. Lost the trail several times amongst other tracks, but by following individual tracks for a distance we were always eventually able to find a speck of blood or a spot where it had fallen.
Happened across some other interesting tales in the snow, including a spot where coyotes had recently eaten another deer. The life-and-death dramas that happen every night in the woods are a lot more visible this time of year.
We knew we were getting close when we started finding spots of blood that hadn't frozen yet. Eventually caught up as it tried to climb a hill in the deep snow. It's hind end was so damaged that it just couldn't manage. I was able to close to about 15 yards, and shot it with the pistol I usually carry for personal defense.
By then we were tired and had no idea where we were. We didn't want to backtrack all the way to where we had started. We could hear occasional traffic, and dragged the deer down to that road. Once we got our bearings, we were surprised at how far we'd gone.
Finally delivered boy, car and deer to his parent's house. His mother cooked the heart for us with onions and garlic, and his father sent me home with the backstraps, some home-made beer, and a dozen eggs from their henhouse, and the kid's got a story he'll remember.
It paid off to be wearing practical clothes and boots with a pocket knife and a pistol. Among the supplies I keep in my trunk for emergencies were a saw and some rope, which came in handy for field-dressing and dragging.
It was very satisfying to stick to those tracks like hungry wolves and end up successful.
Quickly found where it had lain down and bled quite a bit. Then spent two hours and covered about two miles trying to puzzle out where it had gone from there. Lost the trail several times amongst other tracks, but by following individual tracks for a distance we were always eventually able to find a speck of blood or a spot where it had fallen.
Happened across some other interesting tales in the snow, including a spot where coyotes had recently eaten another deer. The life-and-death dramas that happen every night in the woods are a lot more visible this time of year.
We knew we were getting close when we started finding spots of blood that hadn't frozen yet. Eventually caught up as it tried to climb a hill in the deep snow. It's hind end was so damaged that it just couldn't manage. I was able to close to about 15 yards, and shot it with the pistol I usually carry for personal defense.
By then we were tired and had no idea where we were. We didn't want to backtrack all the way to where we had started. We could hear occasional traffic, and dragged the deer down to that road. Once we got our bearings, we were surprised at how far we'd gone.
Finally delivered boy, car and deer to his parent's house. His mother cooked the heart for us with onions and garlic, and his father sent me home with the backstraps, some home-made beer, and a dozen eggs from their henhouse, and the kid's got a story he'll remember.
It paid off to be wearing practical clothes and boots with a pocket knife and a pistol. Among the supplies I keep in my trunk for emergencies were a saw and some rope, which came in handy for field-dressing and dragging.
It was very satisfying to stick to those tracks like hungry wolves and end up successful.
