Experienced some mixed emotions this past week, marking the first time I've killed a buck that I followed the previous year (fairly confident the same buck)... that, and sadly the first I wasn't able to recover quickly enough to salvage the meat. Still, glad to have recovered it, confirmed my aim was true / it didn't suffer too long, and to not have the buck's fate gnawing on me for years.
Though decent for a Florida buck, it's not the biggest buck to visit my place. Not even in the top 5 I've had on camera the past three years I've owned the land. But what it lacked in mass or crazy points it made up for in character with notable curved G3 and G4 points on its right side during 2015 that led me to call it "Flame."
It walked out on me the opening day of gun season in 2015 and I quickly made the call it could use at least one more year of growth. Sure enough it was like it read my mind and made it a point to tease me the entire fall while bucks on the hit list stayed nocturnal (or were harvested by neighboring properties).
It actually spent much of the bachelor season on my place this summer and as its rack developed / it gained muscle I tentatively put him on the hit list. Week leading up to gun season he was the biggest buck showing on camera and was beginning to chase does.
First sit of gun season this year, a group of 8 does and fawns entered my favorite plot with about 45 minutes of daylight remaining. Fifteen minutes later with the group still feeding Flame poked his head out of the far corner of the field, freezing there about a minute before entering. Camera I have in a small adjoining clover plot captured him as he approached the larger field.
Sure enough he spooked the bulk of the group out of the field with one doe peeling off and walking directly in my direction. The doe actually paused, but Flame slowly continued walking my direction first directly facing me before slowly turning to give me a quartering shot. He honestly moved slowly enough I began overthinking 1) did I want to go ahead and take him, and 2) should I wait for any more turning and a better broadside shot. Though moving slowly he was almost to the field wood edge when I gave a soft vocal grunt to stop him and took my shot with him still quartering. Instantly I could tell I had a solid hit, with him making an arching jump, running just 10 yards or so before crashing in the woods, with an audible jump up before another crash, then one more jump up with a few seconds of audible running through an adjoining field. I let darkness fall and waited about 30 minutes before getting down to start tracking blood. Fresh red blood just feet from the spot I hit him, follow a consistent trail into the adjoining field and see he paused with heavy bleeding before making a 180 degree turn... and then... NO MORE BLOOD. Not a drop. Crawl looking for more, no luck. With my old tracking lab having died the previous year, I resign myself to lassoing my loony dane/mastiff mix Zeus and he follows the trail to the heavy pause spot before stopping to lap up the blood. When I try to get him to take the trail up again he sprints to the neighboring property's wood-line but without his nose to the ground and without seeming focus on a certain path. With my adjoining field head high in Bidens Alba / Spanish Needles, I'm guessing the buck has simply run into the field. Do my best to walk through it but as I become a human pin-cushion I begin to feel it's a lost cause and with it now late enough I don't want to bother friends to help track, I decide to resume the search at first light.
Get up the next morning, follow the solid blood trail and it's like a UFO picked it up at the place it paused and turned. Mow the field of Spanish Needles... nothing. Walk about 10 yards into the neighboring property (quail plantation) and see no signs of blood or Flame's body. Walk the entire west half of my 100 acres looking for Flame... nothing. Now about 20 hours post shot, and in warm FL at that I resign myself to waiting for the buzzards to help me find him. And that's exactly what happened. While I had noticed them flying high (common) over my place earlier in the week, yesterday I saw them flying low just west of my plot about 50 yards into the plantation property. Turned out that Flame had run the same direction as my dane indicated but at the end of the field hooked north before falling for good. Having taken broadside heart shots in the past, I'm almost certain my shot was true to where I aimed but that I should have moved the shot a few inches forward to maximize damage to the lungs. Had it been broadside I feel comfortable it would have been a double lung shot but replaying the shot in my mind and with the blood darker red than frothy lung blood, I believe if I hit the lung it only clipped one before striking the liver more solidly as the bullet path progressed.
Wish I could rewind time and do a few things differently but will do my best to live and learn from the experience. Not a story I'm racing to share with many folks, but again felt right sharing here to at least honor Flame's memory a bit.
