Nice but chilly night last night so it was with not too much pondering I accepted an invite from Gazza to head down to one of his woods. We stalked down the forestry road for about 200 yards where we separated. He went left onto a clearing. I paralleled him and gave him htime to glass the area before I continued down the road which skirts the side of said clearing. I had barely covered forty yards when I spotted a white patch in the trees on the opposite side. Bins up. You beauty. Roe. I was screened by whins. I had a forked birch one yard in front of me. Simple task. Drop rifle into V cross hairs on the sweet spot pull trigger, dead deer. Problem. It was eating head down. Gazza was tying Deisel, I was waving like a loony but he never looked round. He climbed into the metal high seat. The deer never lifted its head. So we had an impass. Gazza was seated sixty yards from said deer but totally unsighted. I was sixty yards away but totally stuck because this creature intent on clearing the forest floor of al vegetation never raised its head. I could not make out a shaving brush on the patch but was that good enough reason to shoot it. I had at least five perfect broadsides but would never forgive myself if it was a doe. Eventually it went in deeper so I was unsighted so stalked back up the road and took the long way round to my allotted seat. Gazza later got a buck from the clearing but it entered in from the opposite side. My position blanked. What might have been had it raised its head. I could not even bleep it. Two yards deeper it would have been totally obscured.
That's stalking. The tension between sighting and completion. Knowing when to walk away and leave it for another day. Jim