I was six years old, had chicken pox and was staying with my maternal grandparents, when my mother left for the hospital to go have what turned out to be my younger brother. When I got the news, I was thrilled it was a boy, rather than a girl! I was satisfied to have girl cousins. Outside of some of them, at the time I had little use for girls…
Finally rid of the chicken pox, about two weeks after my brother, Glenn, had come home I finally got to see him. He was small had short blondish hair, but he looked like he would make a good fishing and hunting partner.
As he grew older, as did I, Glenn had a pet pigeon that followed him everywhere, often perching on his shoulder. He too had a pet goat that partnered with a yearling whitetail deer we had raised from a fawn. The two were often seen roaming throughout our and our neighbor’s property. One day our neighbors, who lived in Columbus about 12-miles away showed up at our home. Said he, “You’re not going to believe what I just saw. An odd colored spike buck with long floppy ears running with a regular deer. Never seen anything like it in all my life…” Glenn and I smiled, but said not a word.
Glenn and I “broke the goat to wagon”, meaning we found a way to tie the goat to our little red wagon to have the goat pull it. We thought it great fun, until one day, Glenn sitting in the wagon being pulled by the goat, spooked from something and started running, pulling the wagon considerably faster than my 11-year old legs could carry me. First I watched in awe and then in great fear as the wagon hit a bump, sending Glenn high in the air, landing with a not so good sound thud! Thankfully no bones were broken. But our goat wagon racing days were over.
Glenn at and early age started following my Dad, Lester, and his ‘coon hounds on his nightly hunts. I started college and soon married to my high school sweetheart. Dad and Glenn developed and trained some of the finest coonhounds and bench show champion bluetick hounds ever.
Whenever I could get home over weekends during the hunting season Glenn and I hunted whitetails together “back behind the house”. When he graduated from high school I gave him a mouflon sheep hunt on property I helped managed. That same fall I took him with me to Colorado for an early season high altitude mule deer hunt. We had a blast, although we didn’t find any big deer. The next couple of years he and I hunted mule deer together in southern New Mexico.
Then life got in the way of the two of us really getting to spend more than an afternoon or day hunting the same places.
A few years ago my wife and I moved to within 40 miles of where we both grew up in Colorado County Texas, same distance from my brother and his wife. Our families again had the opportunity to at least visit on occasion. When we did Glenn and I always talked about hunts we had done together, and the possibility of us again spending several days together hunting.
That opportunity finally came in mid-November, 2024. I invited Glenn to come hunt with me on my lease in western Texas. I planned the hunt so it would occur when I felt we could rattle in some whitetail bucks. Years ago while I did the management on various ranches in Texas Glenn had come out to spend a day or two with me when “bucks were coming to horns”. I had even rattled in a couple of nice bucks for him back when. I hoped I could do the same.
First morning in camp Glenn and I sat in raised deer blinds, we both saw bucks, but were looking for obvious older 8-point or less bucks. All the bucks we saw were nicely antlered young bucks.
Glenn and I were driving toward an area where I wanted to rattle and had rattled in several bucks the year previous, when a thick necked, darkly stained tarsal glands buck ran across the road in front of us. He had three points up, with very short or missing brow tines. Just the kind of management buck we were looking for.
“Let’s drive around the corner, then get out and walk the direction the buck was going. I gotta feeling we can rattle him in.” I suggested.
I positioned Glenn where if the buck did as I expected, circling down wind, he would walk right in front of him.
Things didn’t quite happen that way I thought they would. I set up to rattle about 30-steps from where Glenn waited. Soon as as I brought my rattling horns together, two bucks erupted out of the brush to my right. One ran directly toward the juniper where Glenn waited. I seriously thought the buck was going to run over him. Just about the time the buck was nearly in Glenn’s lap, the buck we had seen cross the road ran in from my right and stopped less than 20-steps from me. I quickly brought up my Mossberg Patriot, topped with a Stealth Vision 3-18x44 SVT scope, cranked down to 3x, found the buck in the scope, crosshairs thankfully centered on the shoulder and squeezed a shot. My accurate, deadly and dependable Hornady bullet dropped the buck in his tracks.
I looked back at Glenn, who was still a bit wide-eyed. “That smaller buck all but ran over me. Wasn’t until he was about 6-feet away that he turned…” He hesitated, “That was exciting!” Again he hesitated, “Nice shot by the way!”
After photos we loaded my buck and continued to other places on the ranch where we rattled in more bucks. Later that morning we took care of my buck after I had also shot a doe. Then it was back to rattling bucks, and they responded! We rattled in at least one buck every time we rattled in a new area. Talk about fun and exciting!
Unfortunately, none of the other bucks we rattled in that day fit into our description of “management buck”!
Back at camp Glenn and I combined on the cooking duties, as both he and I have always enjoyed cooking in hunting camps. We told stories way into the night of hunts we remembered doing together and of family times together.
Next day we continued rattling in bucks. Talk about great fun! We passed on numerous bucks, explored some of areas of the lease I had not yet been to. All the while recalling hunts, including with other friends and places. We stopped rattling long enough to run by the leases’ range and shoot a couple of guns, including the old Winchester Model 1895 in .30Govt06 I had bought recently, and, a Savage Model 99 in .300 Savage, that belonged to Glenn, the rifle I had borrowed 54-years ago to take my first mule deer. Even with its ancient scope, it still shot reasonably accurately. Doing so brought back great memories! I was admiring the rifle when Glenn told me it was now mine. “I never really hunted with it that much. Daddy hunted with it a few times and I think he shot a deer with it. I know it’s special to you since you used it to take your first mule deer.”
I was speechless with gratitude!
That night we again ate like kings.
Next morning after spending time on the northern portion of the ranch where rattled in some small bucks, we headed back to the flatlands of the lease, an area that reminds me much of the South Texas Brush Country.
We were sitting glassing a distant doe, me explaining to Glenn why I really like my new Stealth Vision ranging finding binos (www.stealthvision.com) when movement to her right caught our attention. It was a nice buck, an ancient 8-point that fitted perfectly into the size and age buck I hoped to put Glenn on.
We headed in the deer’s direction and soon again spotted him. He was busily rubbing his antlers on a mesquite sapling. When Glenn was set up to shoot I tickled the rattling horns. The buck came several steps toward us, cleared brush, giving Glenn a better shot. He dropped him with one shot, shooting Hornady American Whitetail in his .270 Winchester.
At the buck’s side we admired not only his antlers but the excellent meals he would provide for family and friends.
Later back at camp we cleaned the buck and prepared it, my buck and doe (hanging in the ranch’s cooler) for travel home with us.
Spending time together, particularly in hunting camp which we both love, was something both of us had really needed and appreiciated. Before leaving we vowed to continue making our hunt at least an annual event. Maybe next year I’ll use the ancient Model 99 Savage I now own thanks to my brother Glenn.
Comments