One evening in the late 1960s i watched a big buck bed down in the huckleberry patch about 1/4 mile from my parents home. Deer season was open and i hiked over there early the next morning. The deer jumped up from his bed and i shot at him with my .30-40 Krag. Was absolutely sure i missed, so followup was made.


While i went after the deer Dad was preparing to butcher hogs. After missing the deer, i helped Dad build the fire to heat the water. Our neighbor John showed up to help. John said: "There's a big buck deer lying dead above the old school house". Without a word i got in the truck, retrieved my deer, checked it at the gas station and quickly came back. We butchered four hogs and a buck with a rack that scored over 170 Boone and Crockett points.

That was my first lesson in following up shots. The other is too painful to relate here. My nightmares would come back and i'd miss the opening day of muzzleloader season tomorrow.