Just back from three brilliant days stalking Roe, in great company, in great weather, & having a carcass in the chiller, what more can I say?, I'll start with this, having walked away from the caravan, I get 100 yards along the forestry road, just about to get into the real stuff when a scruffy little buck stands up in the deep roadside ditch!!! bayonet distance, both of us were gobsmacked, needless to say gone in a flash, Oh & he remembered to bark when he'd gone about a quarter mile. Twenty minutes later I'm halfway into a downhill ride, I freeze having spotted a perfect broadside Buck in fine fettle, around 60 yards, all that was missing was the little target rings you get on the paper ones, he's staring at me, I'm staring at him, I think much more of this & I am going to fall over sideways like fools & horses fashion, after what seemed an age something made him turn his head & neck to his offside flank, I make a half step sideways into the spruce & up sticks, a split second later reverse the move, just start to settle into the butt stock, squeezing off beginning ... just as the lock time starts the sticks sink in the moss, causing the shot to enter the ground directly underneath the buck, followed by the sound of galloping & barking, I now refer to the title of this thread once more!.
Another stalk, with the intention of taking a Buck seen more than once, in a spot I know well begins with arriving at the place to get off the road & go downhill just as the light is threatening to break, up with the bins, damn & blast, a big fat Doe meandering back to forest edge, so had to follow her quietly to gain the spot I intended, great practice but not what you want right now.
Returning along the forestry road back to the caravan for breakfast, the wind is directly behind me, a bitter cold easterly, glassing as you go as always, another little spikey buck heading straight towards me, feeding as he approaches, I get the rifle on a handy section of wall, & intend to just wait it out, but you already know how this one ends, a view of the tips of his little spikes, slowly moving to & fro testing the wind, then he moved into the forest & was gone.
On a previous visit here, I shot a nice little Buck from the caravan kitchen door, so I have always thought the chances of this happening again are pretty slim, now I'm driving Miffy's truck this morning, as He's elected to walk to his beat, I arrive at the caravan, park up, exit the vehicle walk around the front to remove the rifle from the passenger side, a cracking Buck springs up from the inside of the bend around thirty yards away from me, barks and is gone in two mighty bounds.
Note to self, in future, Always stalk right back into the digs! & switch on soon as you step out the door!.