So you want to hear the 3 shell story. I had gotten a Winny 94 30-30 for my birthday 1964, so the 65 season was the first year I could hunt with it. My dad also had a 30-30, he though I had taken the whole box of shells out to the pickup with me for the mile tripo to the wood lot so he hadn't gotten any.
We were running late that morning due to a sick cow.
Any way we get to the woods and dad asked where the shells were. I said I had only brought 7. So I gave him 4 and take off for my stand. I almost get to the stand and 4 does and a buck cross the logging road. I can't get a shot they were across so fast so I start still hunting them. About an hour latter I am sneeking around a small hill where the cedar swamp ends. The tracks kept going in a strait line past the swamp, I hear a shot not to far ahead. Well I guess I must have chased the deer to another hunter and stood there decideing what to do when that buck comes tearing right to me. Sees me spins to his right to charge over the hill. I shoot once and chop a popple tree down and see the buck stumble. I rack a second shell in and run up the hill and shoot that buck again like it is supposed to be done.
I know not much excitement there, best part to come.
I dress this deer out My first one all alone. Made a awful mess of the area.
Then the best part I start dragging this deer and went about a 1/4 mile the wrong way before I relized it. Ended up running across a neighbour who was going up to his farm for lunch. He took me and my buck home, where mom couldn't figure out why the neghbour was coming in the yard.

Al