How I dearly wish there was a magnificent story to go with this one, but, well, he stepped out of the brush and I shot him. . . not very original, but that's life. He played hide and seek with me for a bit, and I almost shot his brother(a good eight), but I waited. He was quartering away looking like he was going to bolt. I got him a little behind where I wanted to and gutted him a little, but I got a lung. He ran about 80 yards, but he laid down in tall grass and I had hell finding him. The plan is to dip back into his gene pool and hunt the same place all year. Some mighty nice bucks have come from that pasture.