Tard had just talked me into trying bow-hunting that summer. It really came down to me having a place to hunt. You see my brother-in-law had rented a beat-up old farm house on 23 acres not far from my home. I'd always wanted to hunt but never had a place to go except public hunting grounds and being the only son of non-hunting parents with no male relatives I'd had no teachers. But Tard and I had put our heads together and gone duck hunting the previous fall and he spent most of the weekend talking about bow-hunting.

I thought bow hunting was a little out there. I mean, come on, why not just shoot the dang things with a gun and be done with it. Well I decided to deer hunt that 23 acres and gun hunt it to boot. Then I looked at the season dates. I could bow-hunt for almost four months versus a week or so with gun. So the decision was made, I was a newly minted bowhunter. And so for $65 I picked up a 1980's era Ben Pearson bow off of Ebay.

Then I called Tard - "Where do the Arrows Go?" I said. $200 later Tard had me set up and ready to shoot. It was August and I had six weeks to get prepared for the season. By late September I could put it in the kill zone at Tard's bow-hunting club's 3D course out to about 30 yards. Good enough; now let me at those deer.

When the season came around I went back to the woods and hunted from the wood stand a friend and I had put up about 8' in the air 10 yards off the main trail through the woods. "Damn, hunting is boring" I muttered. This is just like when me and my buddies would take our 22's and tromp through the Hoosier National Forest and squirrel hunt. We'd walk right down the trails talking to each other about why we never saw any squirrels. Maybe there is more to hunting than just going out in the woods with a weapon.

So more consultations with Tard and I had a keen desire to hunt downwind of where the deer should be and a brand new portable stand. Still no deer, but hey at least I got to see lots of other hunters. At least three other people were hunting the area. According to my brother -in-law no one else had permission to hunt so I figured a good trade would be for me to start using these other hunters' stands. And then one Saturday afternoon just before sundown it happened.

I saw a deer. I was sitting up in stand with my bow in hand when I heard a noise off to my left. It had to be another one of those stupid squirrels. If I had known that you could see a million squirrels by just sitting still I would of bagged a few with my old 22. Anyway, when I looked over there stood a six point buck 20 yards or so from my position. He was looking back the way he had come and my heart was beating so fast I thought he would hear it.

Then I froze. Even though the buck was distracted I didn't move a muscle. I was both scared that he would sense my presence and fascinated that I was invisible to him. In 30 seconds he moved silently into a briar patch and I never saw him again. But I was hooked and I spent every afternoon or morning that I could in the woods. And it never bored me again

So the morning in early November came cold as you'd expect with frost on the ground. I woke up with a terrible gut pain. So I spent the hour from 4:30 to 5:30 in the john alternating between crying and banging my head on the ceiling. I fell asleep on the couch till my wife woke me at 9:00. "I thought you were going hunting?" she said. I replied " My stomach hurt." But it didn't hurt anymore. Of course, everyone knows you only see deer at dawn and dusk so why bother going out?

Well, I had recently read an article on Edersbow.com about midday bucks. So I went out and was on a borrowed stand by 10:15 enjoying my new hobby of watching squirrels. Off in the distance towards the swamp on another property I could hear gun shots. And soon there they were, two does making their way to my stand from their beds in the swamp. Casual as can be, taking only the occasional glance back towards the bog. While they sauntered to my stand I slowly stood up and got ready.

The bigger of the two does walked into a shooting lane at 30 yards. I drew and let fly. I don't know if it was my shaking that caused the arrow to deflect off a branch just ten yards out but the arrow went careening off course and hit a tree about 25 feet up with a loud CRACK! The deer bolted and I began cursing under my breath and sat back down. But during my self flagellation I noticed that they had only run behind a clump of bushes 60 yards out.

I nocked a new arrow with steady hands and watched those deer with silent intensity. The big doe decided to hang back behind the bushes but the smaller doe started working her way back in my direction. She alternated between nibbling and making occasional glances my way. She walked across the same firing lane as the other doe but closer this time only 23 yards out and I was standing ready to draw. As I drew back on my old bow the world went away.

All I could see was my fiber-optic pin sight and a blurry tunnel leading to the deer. I put my twenty yard pin on the high side of the kill zone and held my breath. The arrow left my bow on its own. As the deer was beginning her leap the arrow struck with a wet thud. Farther back than it should of and I wondered if you should lead a walking deer.

She kicked her legs high in the air and made a quick U-turn back the way she'd come. I could hear her panicked escape through the woods as she barreled through the trees and undergrowth. Soon off in the distance I heard a crash. I sat back down, the shaking was back and I felt woozy. Had I gut shot her? I prayed that it was a quick kill. The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was cause the slow wasting death of a beautiful creature. And I waited. I tried for the 30 minutes they say you should wait but only made it to 20.

Down on the ground I found my arrow. It was covered in bright red blood. I slowly walked in the direction she had gone. "What does a blood trail look like?" I wondered. Fifteen steps told me what today's blood trail would be. It looked like someone had used a paint roller to cover the forest floor in a swath of crimson. My arrow had found something vital.

After the blood trail had turned back on itself and lead me in an alternate direction into thick cover I found her. As I stood there looking down no sense of triumph came to me. I felt instead sadness for the end of something and appreciation for a gift. I was a predator.

Click on the Photos to see full size picture of Mongo and his awesome deer!!