By John Maniatty
All I could think of were the words of my bud Seventh Fleet, "John you had better hurry up and make meat..."
It had been a long night; my pager kept me awake!
First page---0030: A bud's mom was rushed to the ER after falling out of bed. She ends out with a broken arm and I did not need to return home.
Second page---0332: Second emergency, not serious but keeps me on the phone awhile.
Getting cold---0445: Been sitting around in my jockeys (in the dark) trying to decide on sleep or hunting through a driving snow storm. Look outside and see a nice looking deer. Muzzle loader not loaded. Crossbow not loaded. Window not open.
"John you had better hurry up and make meat..."
Knees shaking---0455: John begins to crawl across the room to locate his crossbow. (Getting colder. Sure hope the dog stays asleep.) Figures that if he can get a weapon loaded on his belly in the shadows, this might be fun. Finds bow, cocks it in the rear shadows (and wishes his bolt had braille on the fletching).
Deer still here---0505: I see the deer is still outside but she is a little nervous. Trying to stay invisible, trying not to laugh as I'm crawling toward the window thinking, "John you had better hurry up and make meat..."
Window open---0531: I've made it to the window and opened it. The deer is still about 20 yards away, 12 feet below me. I slither back to the floor (my knees are really shaking from the cold now with the window open) and crawl around outside perimeter of room back to my bow.
In the Cross hairs---0632: She is still there, a nice looking doe. I factor in the driving snow, the shaking knees, the haunting voice, "John you had better hurry up and make meat..." It takes awhile to factor all this in as I can't turn on my computer because of the shadows---she patiently waits.
Vitals---0652: Breath in time to your knees shaking, OK, that's better. Relax...splut. Put crossbow down and turn on the lights. The dog is wondering what the heck is going on but he decides to go back to sleep.
Track---0712: Put on clothes. Picked up blood trail and find deer 50 yards away. Drag back to camp, call son-in law to drag deer back to Jeep .75 miles away.
As I relax, the haunting voice saying, "John you had better hurry up and make meat..." begins to fade away...
All times approximate.
PS: The doe dressed at 135#, an average size for a doe around here.