Crown Buck stood motionless, staring right at my face. So, I borrowed from a page in the Big Buck’s page-book and stood motionless myself, not moving a centimeter from the top of my head to my toes. I breathed very slowly through my nose, a subtle trick of my own that I thought up year’s ago. It has worked for me more than it hasn’t!
It worked this time too.
A black hocked Doe stepped out of the trees 45 yards ahead and magically Crown Buck picked up on it. He switched on his full alert look and postured in “Here I Am Baby” mode. The Doe held her grounds and looked at him; which tipped me off, I had better get doing whatever I was gonna do.
Above is a game camera picture of Crown Buck from November 11, 2020 taken a year earlier a mile from where we both were.
Every second counted now. I scooped up my crossbow. He was closer than I would’ve liked but ‘”It is what it is.” I shouldered the crossbow and did one of those “act, don’t think about it” moves. The crossbow has a scope but he was too close to fool with using it. I sighted down the stock and pulled the trigger.
I could not see my arrow. Crown Buck took off like he was launched by the nearby SpaceX. In 80 yards I lost sight of him in the tall grass in front of a gulch. I waited, watching the gulch area, seconds flew by, there was no more movement.
I picked up my iPhone.
I texted Richey, John, Bryant, Collin and Champ and told them we had a recovery to do. Champ’s mom phoned me back and said, “I’m bringing him right now.”