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by The Alsatian He was a big one. No question about it, but his horns were odd, almost like an elk, but no so big. He looked a lot larger than most deer I have shot and he had a red roan color to his coat. Exotic to be sure, and I knew he would be good eating. He was running with three does of the same hue. No chance at him that morning. I was carrying my .500 Linebaugh and the range was a bit long for a sure hit. Worse yet, I had been spotted. Better to back off and wait till later to try again. I was hunting on Mark Hargrove’s (Flatlander) place near Snyder Texas. Mark has been very kind to me over the years and has allowed me to hunt this ruggedly beautiful piece of Texas heaven known as the Green Springs Place. It is one square mile of amazing contrast from river bottom to cedar break to rocky outcropping. I took a number of coyotes and a few turkeys off the place, but had yet to score on a deer. That evening the wind was acting really odd. The wind seems to always blow in that part of the country, you can use that to your advantage if you like to walk soft and hunt into the wind. Now it was swirling and changing direction with no apparent pattern. However, I was determined to take that stag. I crept up the hill with my .308, binoculars, folding chair and my .500. I thought as I lugged this load up the hill that I should have left the pistol in camp, but you never know. The .308 is a lucky gun for me and will routinely place all its shots in ˝ inch at 100yds with the 150gr Speer Hot Core bullets it favors. A rifle like this Remington 788 inspires quite a bit of confidence. As I got near the top of the hill, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was red moving slowly through the cedars. The wind was cooperating. In fact, it was blowing so hard, I could not keep my hat on. I put the chair down, and then the binoculars. If I got a shot it would not be a set up and I already knew I wanted this stag. Then, I put the .308 on the ground. I looked back twice, wondering if I had made the right choice, but I knew that I really wanted this stag on his terms. The rifle would be too easy. I was going to take him with the Linebaugh or not at all. The top flattened out and is crested with a number of twisted old mesquite trees. I tried to see the deer through the branches while hiding my body behind the cover. At times I was on my hands and knees, at times I was crouching, ever creeping closer to where I thought they would be. Like most of the plans of man, this one was flawed in that they were not where I expected them to be. I saw all four deer explode out of the cedars well to the North of where I expected. They were as confused as I was and it appeared that they could not determine where I was or what I was. The stag stopped at about seventy five yards out and looked right at me. I braced my forearms over a mesquite limb and eared back the hammer. As I pulled the trigger, I knew that I was breathing too hard, but the shot obviously stunned him. I shot again and he reared up on his hind legs and fell over in a pile. Now my heart really started drumming! I approached the body of my adversary with that strange mixed sense of loss and victory that always accompanies a successful shot on a big game animal. I knelt and thanked God for letting me live in Texas and allowing me to be brought up in the traditions of my Fathers. I asked for His blessing before I started the field dressing. The first shot hit the lower jaw and stunned him. The second went just where I wanted, right in the boiler room. He bled out almost immediately. Note to self: SQUEEZE that trigger. It just does not get any better than this......
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