This bow was made to hunt elk, but I knew the chances were slim it would ever enjoy its namesake. So with deer season upon me and my western trip behind, I had made my mind up to put this piece of Osage to the test. I've only enjoyed a handful of trips to the deer woods so far and I knew the best part was right in front of us, so while I sat the stand tonight I was hopeful, but not impatient.
I was enjoying the view from 12' up an Ash tree at the back side of a corn field I had just recently gotten permission to hunt, with the wind gusting hard enough to blow the arrow off my rest. Between shivers I kept telling myself that soon the wind would lay down and I would be able to enjoy the last hour of the hunt without fear of my tree taking a nose dive. As you can imagine that all too familiar step, step, cadence came subtly to my ears and my heart started dancing at the sight of tan and white walking my way.
He took his time to present himself at my shot window, but once there seemed to linger with no idea of my presence. So I took my time to settle into the shot and all at once my hand knapped point was buried in his lungs. I watched as he ran with gusto for 40 yrds and listened for a few seconds before I heard him fall over and that marked the end of it. Sweet relief!
Often when introducing myself, I will say, "hi, I'm nobody" with a smile. I guess that's not true, though. I'm a guy who remembers the old ways and still knows how to take care of himself with sticks and stones. Thank God for you good folks. You've been outstanding teachers.
