Neck Shot? Now I Don't Know!

Brother Loy has often advocated taking a neck shot on deer if at all possible. He reasons an accurate shot will drop the deer cold. Little meat is ruined by the shot [neither of us are neck roast fans]. And, there's very little blood.

He further reasons if one is a little high with the shot, breaking the spine is likely. If one is a little low with the shot, the jugular will be severed. And missing high or low by more than a little will result in a clean miss with no injury at all to the animal.

I followed Loy's admonitions on Saturday. The handsome four-pointer dropped in its tracks after a 62 yard shot from my CVA Optima Pro smoke pole. I re-scoped the deer and watched its final kicks. Since it was noon, I decided to return to the cabin for a bit of lunch before soiling my hands while field dressing the deer.

Returning less than an hour later I was shocked. There was no deer where he dropped. There was no blood. There was no sign the deer had ever been there. I searched for nearly two hours for a blood trail. Nothing!

This story was shared with one of our normal hunting partners Saturday evening. He repeat a story with a slightly better outcome.

Rick reported watching a deer's last kicks. After waiting a few minutes on a west Tennessee buck to expire, he headed for the carcass. After taking four steps toward this buck, the deer jumped to its feet and ran. Luckily, he had reloaded and was able to drop the deer with a quartering shot as it ran off.

Now, there's that seed of doubt in my mind about neck shots!

The Rut is On!

By Mike Faulk

This old boy threw caution to the wind chasing three does into the mouth of the sluice and to within 40 yards of my position. He tried to keep all three rounded up but paid special attention to the largest doe which kept moving away from his entreaties.

Earlier, at daybreak, I had watched three other does run and stop and run and stop. True to form, they were being chased by a sizable 9 point buck that displayed a swollen neck and considerably more caution that the buck pictured above.

Deciding the 5 X 4 was a shooter, I lowered my binoculars, retrieved my Remington 700BDL, and located him in the Leupold 4X12 power scope.

Alas, I remembered loading the magazine but had not chambered a round. Sure enough, the faintest metallic click made as that shell was loaded spooked him. With self-disgust, I watched as he and his harem ran away.

I could hear Dad's voice, "Son, that's why they call it hunting instead of killing."