My 09 Fallow Rut - Danny Bajt - 2009
The other boys of the WCC had started their rut campaign a week before I was due to start. I was to start my trip from Mon 13 March to Fri 17 March 2009.
A call to the boys during their first week revealed a very quiet period, they managed to harvest a couple of spikers and does but the big fella’s eluded them. The lads felt that my timing was spot on, as nothing had happened thus far. I felt a sense of relief as I’d hoped I hadn’t missed that awesome time when the bucks fire-up.
Day 1
Upon my arrival at around noon camp was empty so I set up my home for the net few days. Shortly after I’d finished Mozza turned up and briefed me on the events of the week thus far. He had managed to harvest his first red deer; a hind with his recurve, a great effort. He also re-told the story of a big fallow buck that he almost shot, but the D-loop on his compound string broke through from wear when he was coming to full draw and only ended up punching himself in the mouth. He was told by the ‘young fella’ (Rory) to replace it before they headed up but, Mozza ignored the advice and paid for it dearly.
For my first afternoon session I ventured into a place I’d hunted many times before. Ben, the owner, had become a great friend of ours over the last few years. Walking down a logging track 10 mins into my walk I thought I heard a rustle from in the bush on my left. I froze, and not 50m into the timber a buck was chasing some does further up the hill so I decided to follow them to see what would happen. Cresting the hill I noticed two does feeding but the wind shifted and they took off. In the fading light and oddly warm breeze I waited on the edge of the clearing just off a game trail until dark. As I could no longer see my sight pins it was now too dark to shoot so I returned back to camp, happy with the deer I had seen in just a few hours.
The next morning I was up before first light and I headed back into Ben’s. Immediately I noticed a white doe and fawn feeding on the edge of the timber. As I hadn’t yet harvested a white fallow before, I circled wide around them to get the wind right, then slowly moved in on them. As I entered the bush I heard a buck croak and turned my focus towards the sound. Like a heat seeking missile I made a bee-line through the scrub and when I thought I was about 100m out from the buck’s position I slowed my pace. Using the thick vegetation to conceal my progress I got to within 40m of the buck which was pursuing only one doe.
Last year I had good success using the ‘meeh’ high pitched doe call. It stopped stags in their tracks allowing us to get accurate shots away. Thinking of this past success I used it again on this buck, and ironically he bolted and my arrow sailed harmlessly to where he had been and lodged solidly into a tree. Not the result I was after, perhaps the rut was in its early period and it was the wrong time to use it a doe call?
On the gentle but shifting winds I heard a faint croak, collecting the arrow I ran to cover the bulk of the distance and slowed once in the 100m zone. The suns rays temporarily blinded me through the gum leaves as they appeared to flash rhythmically as I moved, signalling the coming day. Ever so slowly one step at a time I closed in on the croaking. A buck tried to round up 8 does and keep the annoying spiker from having his way with one of the ‘his’ girls.
In front of me was a small cleared area with the occasional log giving a natural border to the clearing. The churned ground and rub tree signalled a rutting stand (bucks bedroom).
The shifting winds made the deer nervous and they moved off silently. I sat and waited to see what might happen when the spiker came back looking for any girls left behind by the buck. I watched him and passed on an opportunity to arrow him. I had the rest of my trip to maybe secure some prime venison and I also didn’t want to foul up the area.
I’d found a real hot spot and if I felt that if I played my cards right I might have some exciting times over the next few days in this spot.
After a while I left the area being careful not to walk across anywhere I didn’t have to as I headed back towards camp. I was conscious of leaving this place as undisturbed and free of my human scent as possible. I skirted the clearing quietly, but ‘crunch!’, at the sound of a snapping stick I looked around to see a buck trotting in right to where I had been waiting. He hit my scent line and bolted.
Happy with the results of finding the bedroom I returned back to camp to refresh for the afternoon session.
After lunch at camp, I decided to spend the afternoon session sitting just off the perimeter of the ‘buck bedroom’ until dark. As the darkness smothered the sun’s last glow, I left the way I had come in, with no deer sightings for my lengthy wait.
Day 2
In the wee hours, and eager to get going, I found myself walking through the frost covered grass towards the ‘bedroom’. Croaking from that vicinity got the heart beating a little quicker. The wind was being a swirling pain, so a slow and ever adjusting stalk saw me take about two hours to cover 100 m. A buck who’s poor antler growing genetics were obvious as his gnarled and clefted antlers waived above the undergrowth. He had some 10 does with him, which kept him busy (trying to keep them together), but there was always one that wanted to feed on the moist grass just beyond his territory, which frustrated him to no end.
I got to within 40m and set-up waiting for him to show, whilst making sure his girls didn’t spot me. But once again the shifty winds alerted the deer to a form of danger, and they took no risks and moved off, taking the buck with them.
I moved to where the deer had been and found a significant game trail. At this point I heard a buck croak that was close. Trying to pick up the buck I noticed movement to my left and it was a small doe, head down, feeding slowly towards me along the game trail. Nocking an arrow I waited and watched the silently moving deer inch its way closer to me. At three meters she knew something was up and bolted, I knew she would stop at around 30m to have a second look. At full draw I held my aim on her chest broadside to me, however some dead fall was sticking up in my arrow’s expected path. I let down from full draw, not wanting to risk getting a deflection off the obstruction.
I’d forgotten about the buck somewhere ahead in the forest due to the excitement of the encounter with the doe and I heard something crash off as the wind turned once again. I returned back to camp knowing I was getting closer to an opportunity with every outing.
In the afternoon I decided to give the ‘bedroom’ a break and have a look where Mozza had harvested his red hind a few days prior. I did spook some fallow does but it was the red deer I was most interested in, and unfortunately they did not share the same interest in me.
That night the wind had picked up and really blew hard, through the night I could feel the wind lifting the tent and just getting to sleep was a task.
Day 3
In the morning I headed into the vicinity of the bedroom but decided to climb up to the top of the range and focus my efforts on creeks running north, as the prevailing wind was to the south-west. I figured I should focus on the sunny sheltered spots to have any chance of finding deer.
I came upon a small bowl nicely protected from the high winds and sure enough when there was a lull in the wind I could hear a buck croaking down below my position. Moving closer I noticed the buck had a doe bedded and kept checking her every 30 seconds then returning to a warm sunny spot 2m from her
After taking some photos I slowly stalked the buck using tree trucks to conceal my approach. Eventually I was in at 40m and just waiting for the buck to return from checking his doe. Just as I began drawing my bow the doe exploded from the shadows and without a moment of consideration the buck simply followed. I wasn’t sure if I got caught moving, but it didn’t matter as they were gone. I was disappointed as I felt a chance just went begging.
I could here the odd tree get blown over such was the strength of the wind. I decided the bush was a dangerous place to be in these conditions and so I made my way back to camp. If a widow maker did fall on me no one would find me for days, if at all.
As I passed a low rise just near camp, a doe stood up 20m from me and raced off. Remaining completely still I noticed two more young deer simply stand from their beds unsure as to what alerted their mum. The closest one was only 20m from me with its head behind a tree. As quickly and as quietly as I could I nocked an arrow, drew, anchored and released. The young deer only travelled 10m before expiring. I now had the meat potion of my goal ticked off the list.
After field dressing the deer I carried out the carcase some two km to the car, pleased with the fact that in such windy conditions I was able to find a buck and stalk it then harvest another deer for meat. Back at camp I hung the deer letting it cool in the howling winds.
For lunch, Mozza and I made the 1 hour drive into town to catch up with the rest of the WCC who were hunting on other properties. Things were going slow at their places also, with only the occasional grunts early in the early morning or on last light. The news on the radio told us of winds of up to 125km were heading through the region!
Another sleepless night ahead.
The afternoon session saw we walk down a creek close to camp to try my luck on finding some reds deer. My only companion was the noisy minor-bird flying from limb to limb calling in protest to the walking tree below him.
Day 4
The next day was the last for this trip, so I was keen to get going. Mozza made a beeline for the ‘honey hole’ and I went back to Ben’s. After pulling up the Pajero and turning off the engine I immediately herd a buck and he was just across the creek. As it was still just becoming light the air currents were still falling down the slopes and would be prefect for my stealthy approach.
I covered ground slowly as I had to cross some open country before I got to the timber line. Once I got to the edge of the timber I picked up the pace until I was in the 100m zone. Eventually I could see the buck and I took a moment to try and work out how many does he had.
He kept his does in a patch of small tightly spaced saplings. Arrow at the ready and release aid clipped on I was ready for anything that might happen except when a mature doe broke cover and raced away from me, with the buck in hot pursuit. I still remained ready when she turned around and came heading for me. Coming to full draw I expected the buck to also follow her. She passed me at less that two metres, but the buck circled wide at about 45m, trying to head her off. It was not to be as he was running hard at that distance and a shot would more than likely result in a poor hit so I let my draw down and just enjoyed the experience.
A faint croak drifted into my ears so I trotted off in its direction to see what it may bring. Frustratingly the wind did its swirling act and ended any sort of stalk, so I headed for the ‘bedroom’ as it had been productive thus far. The buck on the bench above the bedroom again got the better of me, aided by the wind.
As the sun was starting to appear above the trees I climbed high to see if I could work the wind to my advantage. Climbing a spur I heard a croak to my left so off I went. Initially the going was quiet as I sidled around the mountain but as I dropped towards the gully it got very noisy underfoot. I could see into the creek and it looked like a very ‘deery’ spot. I took a seat on a fallen log and let my senses to the hunting. A lovely scattered opening which screamed fallow deer lay around me.
Then a croak above my position caught my attention...
I stayed put this time and sat at my vantage point and waited. I increasingly became bored as the buck had shut up and hadn’t made a noise in nearly 20 minutes. Getting itchy feet I got going again slowly so as not to spook the buck. Finally he croaked again but it seemed from across the creek from whence I’d come, so back across the creek and up the other side I scurried. It was extremely noisy underfoot and when I got to within 50m of him I was even surprised I had gotten that close. He raced off in the direction of the bedroom so I felt he was one of the bucks I had seen in the days before.
Looking at my watch it was time to head for camp as I told Mozza I’d be back at 11am to pack up and head home. As I walked through the last of the bush I felt a little down as I hadn’t harvested a buck this year, but was thankful for the many close encounters I’d had this season.
Clearing the fence I started walking along the track adjacent to the tree line near camp, when I heard a series of croaks, just over a small rise adjacent to me. I was already late to meet Mozza back at camp, but I knew Mozza would be OK with it if I could bring home some antler.
The distance to the top of the ridge was about 80m so I jogged up almost to the top. I stopped to slow my heart rate down and nock and arrow. I was on top of a small hill with a barely noticeable game trail on it which made the going nice and quiet. As slowly as I could I stalked along looking for the buck when movement to my left caught my eye. A spiker was heading straight for me and I’d hoped he would turn off into the bush before I had to shoot him in self defence!. At 5m he did turn into the thick scrub, what a relief! I then noticed him pop back out onto the track further down the hill then cross the clearing below.
He obviously got too close to the big boy and his girls and big fella had chased him off.
From out of no-where the spiker came back and ran up ahead of me, and as I rounded a large bush I saw him push a doe away from a buck, and away from my position, so I dashed across the track and readied myself for action.
I knew the big fella would not allow the spiker any quiet time with his girl and when I saw the deer heading back to the small patch of saplings the buck had her in originally with the spiker in hot pursuit, I knew the big fella wouldn’t be far behind.
I could see the sapling tops getting pushed aside as he came strutting through, croaking in anger at the little spiker for not giving him any peace. As his head went behind some bushes I drew and picked my shooting lane estimating the distance at 35m. As soon as his head entered my shooting lane I called out HEY!! He stopped immediately and stared in my direction but it was too late as the shaft was on its way eventually passing straight through him.
Jumping straight up in the air and kicking his back legs out, he raced the short distance to the track I was on and stopped below me, I slowly nocked another arrow and I could see him getting wobbly but the wind shifted and he got a faint nostril full of ‘bowhunter B.O.’ and dashed into the entanglement of scrub next to the track.
I thought it best to give him time to settle, so I went and looked for my arrow. My white fletching was now pink, just the right colour I thought. I found the blood trail and followed it slowly. I was getting close to where I saw him last, looking about I noticed antlers propped up from his bedded state. I ranged him at 20m in case I notice him move at all. As I crept forward, bow at the ready, eager to see him expired, the wind would swirled, but it actually aided me this time as his head spun around. I knew what I had to do, and quickly before he summoned a last ditch effort to flee.
I was already at full draw and he was bedded at a quartering away angle. The arrow darted from the bow and in an instant it buried up to the vanes. The buck passed out immediately.
I sat with him a while just absorbing the moment and my achievement, I was confident he sported bigger antlers than my previous best of (218 6/8 douglas points). I looked down at my watch bugger! I was really late.
I took a few photos then made my way back to the car. I could see Mozza’s car parked next to mine so I whistled out and he drove closer. Big smiles on both our faces could only mean one thing.
Mozza had some great success this morning also and was back at camp by 8am, albeit it with a broken toe that he managed to acquire whilst walking back to camp.
I asked if he’d come back to my buck to take some photos, and he agreed but was concerned that it was way back in the bush, but when I told him the buck was probably only 300m away, we both could wait to see my animal.
With hand shakes and photos taken, I proceeded to cape the buck out as he was a beauty.
With the capping job finished two happy bowhunters walked (and limped) back to the cars and drove up the dusty winding road into camp. My rut hunt was over with the final stalk, and again I had successfully completed my goal of getting some meat and getting a head better than my previous best.
Last year 2008, Mozza got a ripper that measured 235 4/8 douglas points. This year 2009, my fallow measured 235 4/8 douglas points, quite unbelievable when you consider how uneven fallow heads can be.
I harvested my buck on Thursday 16th April, 2009, at approx midday croaking his head off, that spiker that almost gave my position away ended up being the best thing that happened, he got the girl and I got the buck.
