I was surprised to see a patch of brown through the brush coming over a small hill 40 yards away. I quickly moved a few steps off the main trail behind a group of raspberry bushes that would hopefully help conceal me. The wind was still coming from the north, the same direction I had been hiking. She was 20 yards from me when she saw me. She stopped in her tracks and watched me. Another doe came bounding over the same hill and the first one stomped her hoof as a warning to her friend. The second doe stopped but couldn't find me or any other credible threats. Nonetheless she stood still waiting for the first doe to give a signal. The first doe bobbed her head up and down trying to gain a new perspective through the brush and figure out what she was looking at. I stood as still as a statue. My camera was in my backpack, but my rifle was accessible, slung over my left shoulder. My goal of shooting a deer with my camera first was not likely to happen.
She studied me more, still as a statue herself. She stomped her hoof two times, trying to get a reaction out of me. I didn't move. Bobbing her head again, she seemed to come to the conclusion that whatever she was looking at wasn't a threat, but she wasn't comfortable enough to hang around. She turned around and slowly walked away periodically looking back my way.
Her counterpart had turned around with her and was cresting the hill from where they came. The first doe passed behind a group of oaks, putting me out of her sight for a moment. In one motion, I slung off the gun and put the butt into my left shoulder while flipping the safety off with my left thumb. I slammed my cheek against the stock and my eye peered through the scope at my prey. As she came past the oaks, she looked back again to find me in a different position than when she last saw. It was enough for her to start running. I placed the center of my reticle on her front shoulder and moving it with her I squeezed the trigger and sent my shot.
I immediately regretted taking the shot. I could see there was quite a bit of brush in the way, now that I wasn't looking through the scope. And I should have had my reticle behind the shoulder and not on it. I reloaded my gun and put my spent shell casing in my pocket. I waited 5 minutes listening for any sounds that might tell me if the deer was still nearby and alive. But all I could hear was the ringing in my ears from shooting my rifle. After 5 minutes I went to where she stood when I shot. Nothing. There was no blood, no hair, no tissue. There was no evidence that she had been hit. I stood in disbelief. I couldn't believe that I had missed. Refusing defeat, I fanned out my search, looking intently at every leaf and twig on the ground for even the smallest droplet of blood. Only a few yards away I found what I was looking for.
The caramel brown leaves holding a few drops of crimson was a welcome sign. A few steps further were more drops of blood, and I was feeling better about my actions. I took a moment to study the area further away, trying to see where she might have gone. Most likely she went north through thick willows. "That's just great" I said aloud. I was hoping I was wrong and wouldn't have to track her though that mess.
I marked the spot on my map of where I stood and proceeded to follow the blood trail. I was looking for any sign of where she went. Blood, hair, tracks, disturbed piles of leaves that might have been kicked up in her rush to safety. Slowly I started to find more evidence. I found a few more droplets of blood and could see where she crashed through a small opening between two trees. She left some hair and a fresh scrape on the bark of the tree. The blood trail was becoming more prominent, and it was becoming increasingly likely to me that she went into the thick willows and possibly beyond. I cursed myself again for taking the shot and could only hope that it was only a flesh wound, and not something that would cause a long excruciating death.
I texted my friend Nick a picture of the blood trail I was following. Nick is a much more experienced hunter than I am, and I was hoping he would tell me if it looked like a promising blood trail or not. As luck would have it, Nick was on the same spot of public land as me, only 2 miles to the south. He was in the process of cleaning out a doe and dragging it to his truck. I continued following the trail while waiting for Nick to join me.
About 80 yards from where I took the shot, I found a large pool of blood. This was likely a spot where the doe took a minute to lay down and recover. My guess is that she got up a moved away while I had my focus on looking for blood on the ground. The ringing in my ears from the gunshot would have kept me from hearing her movement through the leaves at that distance. From this point I couldn't find any more blood. I sat down for a while, accepting defeat. Having such a large pool of blood and then nothing showing where she went, likely meant she clotted up and ran off. It was a good outcome for the deer however, as she would live and only suffer a flesh wound.
I took a drink of water and decided to continue my search. I felt that I owed it to the doe to do my due diligence and perform an exhaustive search. If she had died from her wound, I wanted to make sure I tagged her appropriately and make sure the meat would not go to waste. I took off my coat and started my search again.
From where she had laid down, I could see some leaves that had been disturbed and decided to follow it. 20 minutes went by as I went back and forth from where she laid to the different paths I thought she might take. I finally found a smear of blood on a twig about 2 feet off the ground. It was the original path I had investigated. I placed my extra ball cap on the ground next to it for a reference point. I continued on at a snail's pace, finding tracks, blood smears and broken twigs. I was getting into the willows, and it was time to shed another layer.
10 minutes went by as I tried to find her path again. The willows gave nothing up and I was ready to accept defeat again. As I sat on a log my phone rang. Nick was calling me. He was close by, and I retreated back to the open so he could find me. He studied the blood trail and other evidence with a discerning eye. He confirmed my suspicion that the deer had suffered a flesh wound and was not likely to die from my shot.
Nonetheless, we continued to search for her. We spent the better part of an hour looking through the willows and the marsh beyond them. By pure luck, I found a blood smear on the stem of some tall grass. We continued through the marsh and up a hill where we found another blood smear. The landscape then opened up and there was nothing to indicate what direction she might go. All of the evidence was enough for us to abandon our search. The doe would recover, and that was enough for me. Nick and I walked back to our trucks and called it a day. We were both late for work and Nick had a doe of his own to take care of. Through this experience I definitely learned that in the moment, I need to slow down and be sure of where I am aiming on the deer. Because she was moving, I had it in my mind that I needed to lead her, but in reality, I was close enough that leading my target wasn't necessary. I also learned that I should just have my camera out and ready to go no matter what, because anything can happen at any time. It was a very disappointing morning knowing I injured a doe and was unsuccessful in taking a good shot, but these are the experiences every hunter goes through, and learning from mistakes is the only way to improve and mature.
