Heavy mist this afternoon had me practically writing-off my plans for an evening stalk, but having spent the best part of two hours being dragged around Hobbycraft I was desperate to regain some sanity. Seeing the slightest break in the weather, my natural optimism (some may say blind stupidity) saw me sally forth, with my beloved (and newly-unmoderated) .270 sitting nicely-balanced no my shoulder. I've been seeing a lot of deer no my permission recently, and the farmer's asked me to do what I can to get numbers down. An almost impossible task given the proximity to over a thousand acres of forest, but I struggle on in my own wee way 
Half an hour or so of wandering through the mist saw it gradually disperse, and as luck would have it I spotted a likely buck a couple of hundred yards off grazing through the winter barley. I managed to get fifty yards or so closer, then had the sticks set up and rifle mounted ready for him to turn and offer a shot. He duly did so, and I sent 130 grains of Speers finest on it's way. Of course, not having the moderator meant I lost the sight picture momentarily, and when I got back on him I was just in time to see his back legs fold and that was him down. Not a bad wee buck at all, and it's reinforced my affection for the .270. I don't know what it is about it, but it'll always have a place in my stable.

Closer examination showed the bullet had gone exactly where I wanted it, with none of the damage and bruising some would say is typical of the .270. The heart was split, and the lungs had been hit. It was a shot I was very pleased to see go well, as it's the first buck I've taken since removing the mod'. Entry on the right of the photo

The buck's now lardered, and I'm ready for a well-earned beer!

Half an hour or so of wandering through the mist saw it gradually disperse, and as luck would have it I spotted a likely buck a couple of hundred yards off grazing through the winter barley. I managed to get fifty yards or so closer, then had the sticks set up and rifle mounted ready for him to turn and offer a shot. He duly did so, and I sent 130 grains of Speers finest on it's way. Of course, not having the moderator meant I lost the sight picture momentarily, and when I got back on him I was just in time to see his back legs fold and that was him down. Not a bad wee buck at all, and it's reinforced my affection for the .270. I don't know what it is about it, but it'll always have a place in my stable.

Closer examination showed the bullet had gone exactly where I wanted it, with none of the damage and bruising some would say is typical of the .270. The heart was split, and the lungs had been hit. It was a shot I was very pleased to see go well, as it's the first buck I've taken since removing the mod'. Entry on the right of the photo

The buck's now lardered, and I'm ready for a well-earned beer!


