Youth gun season: Making memories

It was a small doe, less than 100 pounds, but it sure got a big reaction from my nephew when it walked right past the side of our shooting house that fall afternoon.

Tyler, 10 at the time, nearly jumped off the bench.

I had heard deer walking in the dry leaves behind the enclosed stand, and had Tyler prepared.

“Be very still, there’s at least one behind us, and it will walk into the field in a minute or two,” I had whispered in his ear. “Listen. Hear it tipping through the leaves?”

It was Tyler’s first time in a stand with a gun. He had been there two years earlier with his dad and I, when my brother took his first deer. But this time it was just Tyler and his uncle, and I was holding the .243 in my hands hoping the deer would give the youngster an opportunity.

The deer took another step or two.

“Yeah, I hear it, where is it? Is it gonna step out?” he said.

Before I could answer, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, just to the right of the shooting house. And when I say just to the right of the shooting house, I mean right beside it. I could have stuck the gun out of the little window and jabbed the doe in the side.

Seriously.

Surprised, Tyler levitated off the bench, and I put my hand on his knee to calm him. “Don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t even blink.” I whispered.

Not a problem.

Seeing a deer that close had him awestruck. His mouth was agape, and his eyes were wide open and seemingly stuck in that position.

I was still hearing leaves rustling behind me. There were more deer coming and I needed to tell Tyler. I knew they were going to follow the same path as the first deer, which was now only 10 feet from the stand and looking back at us.

My fear was that if another deer passed right beside us, maybe even two or three, Tyler would turn his head to look.

That doe was just standing there looking back toward us, and we were hidden — except for Tyler’s big ol’ eyes — in the dark shadows of the shooting house, so I couldn’t ease over enough to whisper lightly enough so that only he would hear me.

An eternity — yeah, probably five seconds — passed, but finally the doe put her head down and smelled the grass. When she turned her head, I leaned over and told Tyler more deer were coming and not to move.

Just then, the parade started. Two small yearlings passed, then another big doe and two more yearlings and finally a lonesome ol’ doe.

They gathered in a tight group about 20 feet from our stand and the lead doe turned back toward us and started looking our way. She started that ol’ doe trick of bobbing and weaving her head, hoping to make us move or get an angle on us that would reveal any danger. I could feel my nephew starting to freak.

To Tyler’s credit, he never moved. I think he breathed, because he lived through it without suffocating. Several minutes passed before the group of deer moved away from the stand into the middle of the field.

Tyler was shaking.

“I couldn’t believe it,” he said. “They were right there.”

Then it was time to ask the question.

“Tyler, you need to make up your mind right now, do you want to shoot a deer?” I asked. “Your choice. No pressure. If you want to, we can do it. If you don’t that’s OK and we’ll just sit here and watch them. Up to you.”

We sat for a minute, and Tyler eased over and said, “Which one?”

The lonesome doe was the obvious choice and we went about the task of getting Tyler on my knee so he could use the window as a rest and get a steady aim on the doe.

“She’s 75 yards away and you can put the crosshairs where I showed you on the target,” I said. “Line the vertical line on her front leg, and put the horizontal line across her middle. When you are ready to shoot, ease the safety off and pull the vertical line about four inches behind the leg and slowly squeeze the trigger.”

An hour later, back at the cleaning shed, with all the work completed, I was happy. The deer was in the ice chest and Tyler was sitting on the closed lid. It was getting dark but I could see he had a disturbed look on his face.

“Tyler, buddy, you OK with everything?” I asked.

He gave me a funny look, and shook his head.

“I thought you said that if I shot a deer, we’d have some of it for supper and it’s getting late and we’re still 70 miles from home?” he said. “What’s up with that?”

We laughed, sped home and I had his dad waiting with a heated skillet with some oil, ready to fry some tenderized pieces. We ate the tenderloins fried and then browned and smothered some tenderized cuts from a hind quarter. A simple meal but about the best venison supper I ever cooked, because of how it came about.

Saturday (Nov. 3) is the opening day of the youth gun season in Mississippi. Children ages 15 and under are allowed to start harvesting deer with guns while under the supervision of an adult.

Creating the early youth season has been the most popular move the Department of Wildlife, Fisheries and Parks has ever taken. It provides a pressure-free environment for children to become the center of attention at deer camps throughout the state.

My recommendation is that if you have a child you can share it with, do so. It will create a memory you will carry the rest of your life, and hopefully be a story that you will want to share with others.

If so, forward me your photos and stories to bobbyc7754@yahoo.com. Selected stories will be considered for ms-sportsman.com. They don’t always have to be giant bucks to make great stories.