Really?
What if the deer all ran off because you were too busy faffing about with your fancy kit?
Or banged your sticks on a fence?
Or stuck your big moon white face clear over the peat hag?
Or refused to crawl because that tiny birch sapling provides enough cover?
Or insisted on carrying your ruddy great cumbersome sniper tripod through Sitka thicket stage restock?
Or were too busy taking selfies?