it was opening day of hunting season and my buddie and i decided to go hunting for the day, we hit the woods at the crack of dawn and were sneaking up a stream, walking on the rocks along the way. a branch happened to be in our way and when my buddie pulled it back, in front of us was just the head of a deer showing, like it was mounted. i handed the 30-30 to my buddie and told him to shoot it, he handed it back and told me to. this went on for a few times, finally i told him to hold the branch back and i shot. the deer disappeared. we both ran up to the spot and the deer was laying behind a small knoll. when we attempted to gut it, the deer would kick and we would shoot it again, all in the head or neck area, kicked about 18 times, shot with 30-30 once more and with a .22 rifle the rest of the time. we finally got the thing dressed and started draging it out of the woods to the railroad tracks, we would walk ahead first, break a trail, leave the guns there and go back for the deer. on one of our return trips to the deer someone yelled out " hey, what you guys doing" we hauled arse, leaving guns and deer. finally we heard someone laughing, it was my brother. took us from 8 in the morning until two in the afternoon to get the deer to the tracks, then i hiked home and got my buddies father to give us a hand. that was 53 years ago and i was 12 and my buddie was 14. oh, it was an 8 pt buck, 204 lbs.