After a bunch of good bucks on camera in my favorite LA honey holes 3
weeks in the trees had started proving futile, since all my big boys
decided to go completely nocturnal on me. With an upcoming turnaround
at work about to start I decided to pack it up for a long weekend and
try my luck about 500 miles to the west.

Friday morning brought just about the best conditions a hunting man
can ask for. Cool crisp air, a waxing crescent moon, and a calm
breeze. Death was in the air!

As the sun crept over the beautiful Texas hills the sound of crashing
antlers funneled down the draw! The big boys were ready for some
fighting! The first clinking of the rattling horns brought in some
willing customers, but they weren’t the bruiser I new roamed these
hills. About the time the young bucks were out of sight a buzzing in
my pocket alerted me to a picture of a bloody arrow followed by 'dude
just rattled in a freakin monster!'...Oh man it was on!

A short time latter I arrived at the rendezvous point to see my best
friend and undoubtedly life long hunting buddy pacing back and fourth
like a mad man.

“Bra I made one rattle set and all of a sudden the sound of hooves
stomping the ground came to within 10 yards behind me” After an
adrenaline pumping knee buckling eternity the bruiser gave him a shot!
Although not completely sure of the placement the broken back ¼ of the
arrow, the giant left behind, was covered in rich dark bloody
goodness.

A great close encounter and blood letting story of a giant white
tailed bruiser was followed up by some re-insuring words and back into
the brush we went. It was my turn and the day was young. 'Cole we're
not going to look for your buck until you rattle me in a big
one'...'rogger that buddy'.

A short distance up a live oak draw found us on top of a knoll. 'This
looks like a good spot bud..start clinking' with the cool breeze in
our face and the morning sun beams at our back the first rattle set
began. Before the first rattle set ended my heart started pounding!
'Cole Big Buck running down the hill right at us!' Here he came like a
banshee on a war path. Two trails split the knoll he had to go down
one or the other. 'Cole range the tree on the right'...'37
yards'...'Cole range the tree on the left'...'41 yards'...'Holly Crap
you can stop ranging!' Here he came right at us; this big nasty boy
was getting the top pin! He didn’t need to go around us, He wanted to
fight! About 3 of the most adrenaline pumping seconds later the rage
was released! Swackkkk! Perfect placement right behind the shoulder!

After a nerve racking/ exiting/ agonizing/ confident few hours we had
our hands on Coles buck. He was a bruiser! The broken half of the
arrow was logged firmly in the top ventricle of the big boys’ heart
and he was pilled up 60 yards from the shot! The wide thick chocolate
horns made for an absolute trophy!

After some bear hugs and high fives it was off to look for mine. We
had seen the shot hit perfect right behind the front shoulder but we
had also observed a little bit too much arrow sticking out for
comfort. We knew I had squared a rib and watched him disappear into a
pile of brush but we were taking no chances. With the Hoyt knocked up
I crept in were he had disappeared only to have my heart drop when all
that lay on the ground was a little bit of blood.

Drop by drop we followed the weak tear drops of blood on hands and
knees, cactus and thorns, for over 200 yards. With the trail getting
thinner and thinner and the negative thoughts creeping into my head it
wasn’t looking good. “Man did I get any penetration, how far was the
arrow really sticking out, did the blade make it far enough to get
lung, oh man is it possible this deer could survive?” Hope was
dwindling until well ahead of me Cole shouted “hey bra I got good
blood”. As I inspected the conglomerated blood splatter it was clear
the buck had rested here but where did he go? Why isn’t he laying dead
right here? Shit Matt don’t let the doubt creep into your mind stay
focused. Laying my bow down next to the last good blood I was back on
the ground like a blood hound connecting the dots with ever so tiny
red droplets. I came almost all the way around the brush top when a
twig snap caught my attention.

There he was 5 feet from my face sitting up staring through my soul!
Now I have experienced some crazy emotions through my numerous
adventures a field, but brother let me tell you what; when you have a
huge wounded very much alive monster buck with 9 razor sharp daggers,
that you now you have to kill, staring at you 5 feet away…that is a
hole new emotion!

What happened next was a blur of adrenaline and arrow slinging!

When I got back to my bow the bruiser was on the move. Exploding out
of the brush top he ran about 40 yards and looked back. By this time
another rage was in the air on a path for destruction. Swaack! “Shit!
To far back.” The second war head had deflected and hit just in front
of his hind quarter unzipping his intestinal track but definitely not
slowing him down! As the buck bolted over the hill I was hot on his
trail. Like an Indian warrior running down his prey I knocked a third
arrow as I crept to the top of the hill.

There he stood battle worn and mortally wounded 30 yards ahead. All I
could see where the tops of chocolate daggers. I knelt down to observe
his next move peering through a tunnel of brush when all of a sudden
an unmistakable white patch of fur appeared. “Last arrow Matt now or
never”

The final arrow was tipped with a hard hitting, brush cutting G5,
strategically placed in my quiver for just this scenario! Whammm! The
furry of sharp steel and carbon slammed into the monsters neck and
down he went! With the conclusion of the single most exhilarating
moment in my hunting life I let out the loudest warrior cry you have
ever herd. WOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!

1-2 TX KO unforgettable!