The Big Hunt
I said today is the day I become a blackpowder hunter. They prepared the rifle while W. L. gave me some advice as to the bullets and other accessories that were essential and I was in business. A few weeks later we were sighting in my new .50 caliber inline muzzleloader and preparing the area I would hunt for the first day of blackpowder season.
The evening of November 14 was spent as many pre-hunt evenings. I made sure I had enough premeasured powder, firing caps, and saboted bullets ready the next morning. I had learned from previous years the least amount of supplies the better but I didn't want to be short on anything. All my equipment was ready. I was sure. Nothing could go wrong.
Except for getting up late the next morning everything started as usual. I couldn't believe I was late! I had awakened every hour on the hour it seemed during the night. Into my hunting clothes and out the door I went. It was a race to get into the woods before dawn. As I drove to Stokes County the radio announcer said sunrise would be at 6:57. He must have been crazy. By the way things were lighting up the sun seemed to be already blazing down on my little patch of the world that I was to hunt. There was no way I could beat the sun.
I arrived at our prearranged meeting site and W. L. was already in the woods. I hustled to get my gun loaded and grabbed two more containers of powder, caps, and more bullets and headed down the trail to my stand. As I approached my stand I slowed but kept at a steady pace. I had already jumped at least one deer that was waking early. I arrived at my stand with a few minutes to go until the 6:57 time the radio announcer had given. I tied my gun to the rope I used to haul it up once I was in place and made my way up the ladder. Quickly and quietly I pulled the gun to my perch and sighed. Relieved that I had made it. Within moments of getting my breath the sun broke the dark line of the horizon and splashed my face with warmth. I looked at my watch, six fifty-seven.
All was quiet for the first few minutes. A crow called out to others and the squirrels came to life below me. At 7:15 the first deer of the day stepped out into the road bed in front of me. It was a cow-horned spike. His two slender horns projected in smooth curves from the top of his head to a length of eight or nine inches. He was average size for a young buck but was less than what I had ever hoped for for a first deer. I watched as he ate and kept a cautious eye and ear for danger. He eventually slipped off into the tall grass and weeds to find more interesting things to do. Shortly after his departure I heard approaching steps from the pines behind me. A doe trotted at an angle away from me and toward the four year old saplings that had been planted just prior to my first hunt here. She was closely followed by a buck of better than average size and another buck, smaller and more adventuresome. The second buck stopped and came across in front of my stand. He was a four pointer and would have been a nice take but he was smarter and once in the open didn't stand still for long.