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The hunt

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Tracker0721:
I know a lot of guys say the hunt isn't all about the kill, but I never hear any good stories on here of a hunt unless it ends in a kill! I've been hunting for years with my bows, shot my first buck with a rifle at 13 and haven't hunted big game with one since. Unfortunately with that said I still haven't connected with a deer with my bow. Been too stubborn to sit in a tree, too righteous to watch a bait pile, too emotional to shoot a doe, too impatient to wait out the stair down. But with all that I have loads of great memories. So I dedicate this topic to the hunt and not the kill. The time you got busted by the unseen doe while stalking the buck; the stick that sent the pigs screaming; the rustle in the brushes that sent the turkeys packing. I'll start!

I'd been hunting all morning in the frosted valley two mountain tops away searching for elk. Rumors were floating around the area of the elusive forest ghosts being chased into the area by wolves and after calling for hours with no response I had begun heading out. But then I met a bear hunter. He smiled as he declared "your hunting elk." And I nodded and admitted I'd been calling but hadn't heard anything. With that he gave me a grin and told me to head back to the other drainage where he'd just come down from. A 6 point bull was tearing up everything and running in the direction of the bowl I'd just been sitting in! We chatted a bit more and then I boogied for my jeep, I had a friend who owned land just on the other side of that drainage! So here I am 2 hill tops over, 75 yards from my jeep and creeping down an old logging road. I have a diaphragm cow call in my mouth, arrow on my string, and a hopeful feeling in my chest. Every few steps I stop to listen, look and feel. A most is hanging in the thick woods and the temperature feels to be dropping. I notice a small trail on my left and begin descending into a drainage so thick I can barely see 30 yards! The ground is quite loud, covered in dried leaves and twigs fallen from the fir trees and bushes. I decide to start cow calling as I walk to cover my interruption of the quiet forest. Dropping only 100 yards and almost at the drainage I hear something above me. Fear creeps in as I think about all the bears that'd love to eat a crazy, injured, half mute, sick elk as my calls were quite terrible. As the sound got closer I started looking for somewhere to hide. I spotted a fallen tree and got into the hole left by the overturned roots. Whatever was coming was big. It sounded like trees were snapping in half! Then it stopped. I quit calling and wait. Then a deep, hollow "meow/grunt" filled the air. And another. And another. So I called again. The elk started coming closer. The rest of the way down the hill he called to me and I'd respond. But then below me in my wind I heard a high pitched meow! I swung around but couldn't see it so I copied the call. Then a couple of barks came from above me. I'd never heard elk before, never hunted em, and now a few miles from hole I had 2 within 100 yards of me. A wind was hitting my side the whole time, no way they could smell me, I didn't make a sound either nor did I move faster then a tortoise. But the woods went quiet. That bull was behind some trees but just across the draw. First elk encounter was cool, but I wanted meat. I wanted the kill. Lost calf sounds began flowing from my mouth and I started a wandering path up towards the elk, but when I got to a good vantage point there was no elk in sight. So I sat on a stump, tucked back into a stump, and bawled like an elk. Literally- I was so out of breath blowing on that call. It musta been 4-5 minutes straight of high pitched short meows. And all the sudden I heard them right back. 3 in a row, above me, and suddenly more. And with every meow that fearful cow called right back! I could tell she was moving around a lot above the drainage but she wouldn't commit. Wouldn't move down to my ambush. And then with a series of meows she went quiet, and vanished. I hiked all over the hill memorizing those calls and will probably never forget my first elk encounter. A kill would've been amazing, but just getting to hear elk was awesome for me!

So what's your story of a hunt worth remembering without a kill

Danzn Bar:
I have had so many good hunts seeing only a deer or two in the distance..................seeing a red tail hawk chasing a squirrel in the trees and seeing a raccoon in the early light of the morning.......I have many rewarding hunts like this that were good for the soul.  Sometimes when you don't see much game you have time to think about life........
DBar

JW_Halverson:
I had run into two fellers hunting grouse and they had two of the strangest dogs you ever saw.  One was obviously part standard poodle and the other was a shepherd mix.  Not what you expect when hunting birds.  Friendly enough fellers and two fine furry four legged types, so I suggested we try another Walk-In area a mile or two down the road to round out everyone's game bags.

Unfortunately, on arrival, we jumped a mule deer buck and the shepherd mix tore off and over the hill chasing the buck.  We spent the rest of the day looking for that dog and notifying all the farms in the area that we were on the lookout.  Sundown came and they had a 2 hour drive home ahead of them.  They both had work in the morning and were absolutely heartsick having to leave with one of the family somewhere out there.  I told them I would be back in the morning and pick up where we left off. 

Next morning I drove up with a heavy heart, none of the farms or ranches in the area had called me overnight.  I took my time getting out my blaze orange vest, loaded the shotgun, put some apples and granola bars in the pockets and snatched the binoculars off the dash of the pickup.  Before walking out into the field, I jumped in the bed of the pickup and up on top of the cab.  Binos to my eyes, I scanned the miles and miles of wide open South Dakota prairies 360 degrees around me.  Normally, a sight that would warm my heart and leave me breathing deep and clear.  Nothing, not a hint of the dog to be found. 

I hopped from the cab into the bed and down onto the hard, dry prairie.  As I walked around to the driver's side reaching to slam the door shut and about crapped myself inside out.  There sat the lost dog in the driver's seat with a content look on his face.  I could tell by the twinkle in his eye that he relished surprising me in that manner. Asking him how he did it would yield no answer. We've all known dog's like this.  You know, the ones with a streak of cat in 'em.

I never pulled on a bird that day, never so much as kicked up a longtail pheasant or chuckling sharptail basketball on wings grouse.  Nope, I just hopped in and drove for home and a phone.  I still think it is one of the three best days hunting I have ever had. Twenty years later, I smile when I remember the sound of that feller's wife crying for joy when I told here I just needed her address and I would deliver the dog in two hours.  So yeah, maybe not truly a hunting story, not sure if it meets the criteria, but there it is.

lebhuntfish:
About 15 years ago on opening day of Missouri's firearm deer season my dad, brother and myself walked out towards our usual hunting spot on our families farm. We crossed the fence went down the first holler and into the hayfield. The hayfield is about 300 yards accross to the edge of the tree line. It was starting to lighten up with the sun coming up over my right shoulder.
We got together and made a plan to walk over to the tree line slowly and spread out about 50 yards apart. We had the wind in our face and I was excited about this plan. This is my favorite holler to hunt even now.
We all made it accross the field and within 10 yards of the edge of the field. When I caught a strong buck smell in the air. I stopped, when I looked over at my brother to my left, he had his rifle shouldered. I thought, my brother is going to get a buck! Now I started hearing deer moving all over the ridge accross the holler. I saw movement and could catch a glimpse of a deer every now and then. Then I felt a breeze hit the back of my neck. Oh crap! Suddenly there was a ear shattering screech of a big deer blowing. It sounded like a whole heard ran off through the brush. I finally seen the buck! Bounding over the brush, tail high and the HUGE rack!
I talked to my brother, his eyes were as wide as saucers when he said, that buck was bigger than the ones we see on TV! I immediately made it my mission to find and take this deer. I hunted hard that season. Making all day sits from daylight to dark every day of rifle season. I caught a glimpse of him two days before the end of the season in hot pursuit of a doe running accross the hayfield at about 400 yards. Season closed, first rifle season I didn't fill a tag, even a doe.

II seen him 3 more times while bow hunting a stand on the back side of the holler where he was first seen. He busted me once while I was trying to draw on him and left the country.

I left him alone for a couple of weeks, while never setting foot in the holler he was first seen in. The middle of December finely got here and black powder season opened. I couldn't hunt opening day  but I got a phone call from my grandpa. He said that he seen a giant buck bedded down with a doe in my favorite holler just off of the North West hayfield. I was excited to say the least!
II hunted all day the next day and seen over 15 deer. The big guy never showed. I went every day after work until finally on Friday evening he showed up right at dark. He was 50 yards, I had a 50cal in line with iron sights shooting a 325 grain bullet in front of 150 grains of powder. It was so tempting just to shoot at him through the brush in the almost dark woods. But I was raised better and I knew that it wasn't an ethical shot. So I sat there and waited till I couldn't hear him any more then sneaked out. I say the entire next day in the same spot. Only seen one doe. The last day of blackpowder season. I hunted with a friend on a different spot till about 10 o'clock. I actually shoot a doe wit him. (this is the only deer i had even shot at but I figured I would try to get some meat) 
I Took her home and I headed straight back to try one more time. I decided to try and sneak down into the holler farther than before. I had a good wind, about 20mph. I only moved when the wind blew. It took me 30+ minutes to go the 40 yards into the holler. Something told me that the big buck was bedding down in there out of the wind today. After setting for about an hour I remember something my grandpa told me about old deer. Sometimes you need to talk to them softly. So I put my grunt call to my lips and just made 2 really soft grunts. Suddenly a large branch turned around, it wasn't a branch it was the monster! He was beaded 40 yards straight accross the holler from me. Strangly enough I was as calm as I could be. I got my gun ready to raise. He stood up in the brush, done an about face and took a couple of steps. He stopped and looked at me just about the time I got my gun to my shoulder. I froze, and he looked at me for what seamed like forever. Finally he took 2 or 3 more steps turned to his right, stepped out into the best and only opening giving me a perfect broad side shot. I leveled the sights and just looked at him in awe. He finally walked up the hill into the thick brush. He was never seen again.

II told myself that I had just done something that most people will never understand. I had just let the biggest buck of my life walk away. But I had wone the war. I could have killed him easy enough, I beat the old weary monarch at his own game in which he is the master of. Hide and seek....

 To this day, I still hunt this holler. I've never shoot a deer sitting there.

Patrick

Stringman:
Fun stories! Keep em coming!

When a good one comes to mind, I will try to write it down for you fellers!

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