I can't say that I am haunted by the monster that walked away. I remember him vividly and am glad that I was there to see such a magnificent animal. A morning hunt on a ridge where I'd taken a nice buck the year before. Daylight not quite, and a shadow is moving slowly 45 yards to my right. A buck, for certain, grunting. I grunt back and he bullies up a small white oak. 20 minutes it takes to get him within range, just soft calls every so often to maintain his interest. Daylight is here and so is the buck, 25 yards from my tree. I can see him well now, learning that his massive body sports a crown of only 5 points! I smile at him, he has no clue I'm there, among the limbs above. I hear the leaves crunch behind me, getting closer. I can't see that way without turning and figure I'll spook the 5 pointer. A doe I figure... coming to see Mr. 5 point. Ahhh, but Mr. 5 point has hair that bristles on his back and a head that cants to one side in aggression. I look down between the rungs of my climber and see him. Ground zero he stands, massive in every way... 11 points that look like spears and every inch a 20 plus vacancy between. Looking down has been my mistake, as he knows now I'm there. He doesn't know that I'm a hunter, but he knows I'm not supposed to be there. He turns and walks away the same path he came. I watch him go, ranging him to 52 yards when he stops to look back. I have not made a sound and I will not draw my bow. I've had his backside straight away from me the entire time and respect that a shot would be nothing short of marginal. He slips over the ridge and is gone. Mr. 5 point is still there, thinking that he is king of the woods. He smashes the little white oak scrub and saunters off. Man, it was something I'll never forget and thank God I wa there to see it happen.