In the cold snap a few weeks back I headed out after fallow on a permission.
It was -7C so I knew it would be crunchy underfoot and thus close range shots unlikely.
Wearing 7 layers on top and two thermal layers under winter trousers, I set out.
It was certainly beautiful but difficult to move quietly on the frozen ground.
At first there was little activity on my ground and I heard only a few shots from neighbouring land. I was getting cold and a bit demoralised, despite the beautiful frosty countryside, so I decided to move position.
The walk warmed me up and as I approached the crest of a rise, I glassed two fallow across the small valley ahead. 260m on the rangefinder. There was little chance of closing on them and even if I could, I'd then be shooting uphill from the valley bottom, losing the backstop.
Furthermore, when I went prone, the deer were partially obscured by the tops of trees between us.
My trusty Limulus quad-sticks came to the rescue; a remarkably stable shooting position compared to the traditional pair.
Luckily I'd taken the 300PRC out, instead of the 45-70 Cyber-punk Marlin GSBL I'd used for the last few deer.
Why? Because at this range the 300PRC, with its 186m zero, needed only 5 inches of holdover (0.5mRad) whereas the 45-70 would have needed 61 inches (6.2mRad)! A handy little rifle but it has its limits.
As quickly and quietly as possible I set the rifle up on the sticks and got settled.
My reticle was steady as a rock and I knew the shot was on. I’d been shooting PRS at longer ranges and off less stable props the weekend before, and I know my limits where live quarry are concerned. I dialled the 0.5mil elevation, let the crosshairs ease onto the deer that was broadside to me and squeezed-off the shot.
The distinctive "THWOCK" of a bullet striking chest cavity suggested a good hit and once the scope settled back from the recoil, I could see the deer on ground. I reloaded as more deer had appeared, milling about in confusion. On this occasion they didn't stop moving and legged it.
For the rest of the morning I moved periodically and kept seeing deer, but never in a shootable position. On one occasion a group hopped out of cover behind me, not more than 30m away but directly in line with buildings! Elsewhere, these two sauntered by, seemingly knowing there was no backstop:
At midday, I decided I needed to get off the land, pick up the Mule from my brother-in-law, and get the deer home for butchering before it got dark.
So I headed back to the grassed buck and performed the gralloch (with a Spyderco K390 Mule):
That done, I strode back to the car, making no effort to be quiet on the frozen leaves. To my surprise, a buck I'd seen earlier jumped a fence 100m in front of me. He was standing still, broadside on.
He had a good backstop but I was in the open with my sticks folded, mag in my pocket and rifle on my back.
In slow motion, I deployed the sticks, eased the rifle onto them and tried to seat the mag without clicking. Breathing downward to avoid fogging the scope, I gently chambered a round, sure that he'd hear it and run. He didn't.
CRACK!
He dropped where he stood.
Again the Spyderco Mule did the business with the gralloch, during which I noticed a tell tale bump under the hide of the deer. Sure enough it was the remains of the expanded bullet:
I noticed he had scalp damage that has affected antler growth.
Later, I returned with the Mule and made a right hash of loading the chunky beasts into it. My brother-in-law had modified it since last I used it, raising the floor of the load bay to create a storage space underneath. He'd also added a metal roof so I couldn't haul the deer in while standing in it. If you've never had to lift a dead deer into something that high, imagine trying to pick up a huge, sleeping cat that is dripping blood and seems to be trying to slither out of your arms the whole time. If anyone was watching they'd have ****ed themselves. At one point I was flat on my back with the deer straddling me.
Finally, I got the deer hung up and cooling at my brother-in-law's place, with time to butcher one before it got dark.
While I was returning to my other brother-in-law's place, where I was staying, he called asking if I'd mind picking up some beers for the footie.
Accordingly, I pulled in at a posh petrol station that has an M&S and a cafe, failing to notice the TWO police cars parked up nearby...
I chose the beers and headed to the till. As I rounded the last aisle, entering the small cafe area, I came face to face with four armed police (sidearms only).
They were standing up, chatting around a table. The chat stopped as this mud-caked, dishevelled figure, with heavily blood-stained clothing, wrists and even face, appeared in front of them. With a creeping sense of unease I remembered the Spyderco Resilience clipped in my pocket (yes, I like Spydies!)
One of them looked me up and down and asked "busy day was it, sir?"
"Er, yes; deer cull" I replied, trying not to look guilty and therefore probably looking dodgy as hell.
"Looks like you had a successful day then" he said, with a wry smile, and turned back to his colleagues, who resumed their chat.
I paid and then fled home for a much needed hot shower and cold beers.
Video: I put this together as I was interested to find that the bullet didn't exit.
Video: deer sauntering by, somehow knowing I don't have a backstop (the white buck is actually one I shot later)
Some pics of the frost:
A satisfying outing and freezer number 4 is now half-full (or half-empty, if you’re a pessimist.)
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