Ghost Whitetail
The last fall yellow aspen leaves blew around on top of the snow in front of me as if they were chasing each other. The deep freeze of the December winter day filled the cold morning air. Several doe’s fed on my bait pile 30 yards out in front of my elevated enclosed blind, numerous bucks in the 140-170 class would come into the bait and check out the does from time to time, but one nice 170 class 5 point buck would peek out into the open from time to time and chase one of the does into the seclusion of the trees.
On the third day, like a ghost back in the trees, the image of a buck carrying heavy typical antlers was there for several seconds, and then he was gone. I have been sitting in this blind every morning, and every evening for the past 3 days hoping this phantom buck would return, but like a ghost, I might only get the one sighting this week. Was I seeing things? Did this massive buck actually exist, and was he actually as large as I thought? These are all thoughts that run through my mind each wakening moment on stand. Should I harvest this nice 5x5 buck that I have seen several times, or one of the other numerous bucks, or wait longer and call my wife and let her know I will not be home this weekend as planned, I will wait longer. I have 2 days left before I am scheduled to return home.
I was in Saskatchewan, Canada, hunting on my Silvertine preserve, and this buck I was hunting had eluded hunters all fall, and I had a personal interest in him specifically. Even though he was not the largest buck on my preserve, he was just special to me. One of those resident bucks that calls the heavily wooded forest of Silvertine their home. Its bucks like this that makes Silvertine so challenging. I was sitting here for the same reason thousands of hunters flock to this province each fall. Just to get the privilege of laying eyes on a true wily monster northern Canadian whitetail was an honour, and an image I would never forget. The bitter -20 cold caused me to shiver as I waited, but the fever of possibly shooting a buck of my dreams causes me to endure.
As I had each morning I left the comfortable warm cabin and walked in the dark to my blind, probably my last day hunting. The sun will not be up for a couple hours, and the moon was absolutely full, and I could see like it was daylight. The big dipper is straight ahead of me, and the wind is dead calm. I get settled into my blind for the 4th day, and am starting to doubt if I will get this buck at all. It’s a west wind and that’s perfect, after an hour does and the bucks are starting to become visible in the awakening day. There off to the north, is the nice 5x5, but he is not the big guy, but should I shoot him, and its last day for me? Nope, I will be disciplined, and let him live, now if he shows up just before dark I may not be so thoughtful. The 5x5 strolls over and the 4x4 runs away. The 5x5, takes possession of the hot doe, and lip curls after he sniffs her back side. It’s getting very easy to see now, the glow of the morning sun starting to show itself in the east. The buck kicks a doe with his foreleg between her back legs, and she scoots forward. He trots up behind her and lays his chin on her rump. She lopes off into the trees and he follows in hot pursuit. Another nice buck returns, and courts the remaining does.
The entire day I enjoy activity below me on the bait, but not a sign of the goat buck. About 15 minutes left of shooting light all the deer at the bait throw their heads into the air, suddenly snapping to attention as they stare off into the trees, the sound of antlers crashing together holds everyone’s interest, including mine. It only lasts several seconds, and then it’s over. A doe runs out of the trees and joins the others. I lift my rifle to attention as my thumb presses against the safety. With squinted eyes I study the timbers edge. Then like a mirage the image of the Ghost buck comes into focus as he stands looking out 20 feet back into the trees. Instantly I recognize the massive antlers, and I admire this magnificent animal as he cautiously looks out, the greatest survival machine we can hunt. I am unsure if I am dreaming, or if this is real, but regardless, I raise my rifle and line the scope up on the buck. This was reality, as the buck was in my scope, and one quick check to make sure it was the Ghost Buck, and if I could thread a shot over the limbs blocking his chest, I fired my memorable round.
Does and bucks run in every direction waving their white flags. A murder of crows that settled into a nearby tree exploded in choir as the shot echoed through the timber. I searched with my rifle scope for the buck, but he was nowhere to be seen. I jumped out of my blind and ran to the spot I shot at the buck. Couching down I found hair and blood, and where the buck had surged into reverse for the safety of the deeper timber. I followed the tracks and blood, and not 30 yards away the Ghost buck laid peacefully.
As I approached the buck I was in awe at the tremendous size and mass of his rack, he was truly a buck of a lifetime. I reached out and grabbed the horns, they felt hot to the touch, and I still had to give my head a shake to make sure I was not dreaming. Realty suddenly set in. no longer would I need to look at photos of monster bucks, wishing and hoping that one day I would get the opportunity to harvest one. I now had my own monster Silvertine buck.
On the third day, like a ghost back in the trees, the image of a buck carrying heavy typical antlers was there for several seconds, and then he was gone. I have been sitting in this blind every morning, and every evening for the past 3 days hoping this phantom buck would return, but like a ghost, I might only get the one sighting this week. Was I seeing things? Did this massive buck actually exist, and was he actually as large as I thought? These are all thoughts that run through my mind each wakening moment on stand. Should I harvest this nice 5x5 buck that I have seen several times, or one of the other numerous bucks, or wait longer and call my wife and let her know I will not be home this weekend as planned, I will wait longer. I have 2 days left before I am scheduled to return home.
I was in Saskatchewan, Canada, hunting on my Silvertine preserve, and this buck I was hunting had eluded hunters all fall, and I had a personal interest in him specifically. Even though he was not the largest buck on my preserve, he was just special to me. One of those resident bucks that calls the heavily wooded forest of Silvertine their home. Its bucks like this that makes Silvertine so challenging. I was sitting here for the same reason thousands of hunters flock to this province each fall. Just to get the privilege of laying eyes on a true wily monster northern Canadian whitetail was an honour, and an image I would never forget. The bitter -20 cold caused me to shiver as I waited, but the fever of possibly shooting a buck of my dreams causes me to endure.
As I had each morning I left the comfortable warm cabin and walked in the dark to my blind, probably my last day hunting. The sun will not be up for a couple hours, and the moon was absolutely full, and I could see like it was daylight. The big dipper is straight ahead of me, and the wind is dead calm. I get settled into my blind for the 4th day, and am starting to doubt if I will get this buck at all. It’s a west wind and that’s perfect, after an hour does and the bucks are starting to become visible in the awakening day. There off to the north, is the nice 5x5, but he is not the big guy, but should I shoot him, and its last day for me? Nope, I will be disciplined, and let him live, now if he shows up just before dark I may not be so thoughtful. The 5x5 strolls over and the 4x4 runs away. The 5x5, takes possession of the hot doe, and lip curls after he sniffs her back side. It’s getting very easy to see now, the glow of the morning sun starting to show itself in the east. The buck kicks a doe with his foreleg between her back legs, and she scoots forward. He trots up behind her and lays his chin on her rump. She lopes off into the trees and he follows in hot pursuit. Another nice buck returns, and courts the remaining does.
The entire day I enjoy activity below me on the bait, but not a sign of the goat buck. About 15 minutes left of shooting light all the deer at the bait throw their heads into the air, suddenly snapping to attention as they stare off into the trees, the sound of antlers crashing together holds everyone’s interest, including mine. It only lasts several seconds, and then it’s over. A doe runs out of the trees and joins the others. I lift my rifle to attention as my thumb presses against the safety. With squinted eyes I study the timbers edge. Then like a mirage the image of the Ghost buck comes into focus as he stands looking out 20 feet back into the trees. Instantly I recognize the massive antlers, and I admire this magnificent animal as he cautiously looks out, the greatest survival machine we can hunt. I am unsure if I am dreaming, or if this is real, but regardless, I raise my rifle and line the scope up on the buck. This was reality, as the buck was in my scope, and one quick check to make sure it was the Ghost Buck, and if I could thread a shot over the limbs blocking his chest, I fired my memorable round.
Does and bucks run in every direction waving their white flags. A murder of crows that settled into a nearby tree exploded in choir as the shot echoed through the timber. I searched with my rifle scope for the buck, but he was nowhere to be seen. I jumped out of my blind and ran to the spot I shot at the buck. Couching down I found hair and blood, and where the buck had surged into reverse for the safety of the deeper timber. I followed the tracks and blood, and not 30 yards away the Ghost buck laid peacefully.
As I approached the buck I was in awe at the tremendous size and mass of his rack, he was truly a buck of a lifetime. I reached out and grabbed the horns, they felt hot to the touch, and I still had to give my head a shake to make sure I was not dreaming. Realty suddenly set in. no longer would I need to look at photos of monster bucks, wishing and hoping that one day I would get the opportunity to harvest one. I now had my own monster Silvertine buck.
