The next day the morning was cold and rainy and the animals were not moving around much opting instead to stay bedded down. We did a little exploring out on the dessert roads but soon became discouraged. After lunch, we decided to visit a draw that we had taken deer out of on two other occasions in prior years. As we pulled up to the gate and crossed the rickety bridge spanning the canal, we discussed our tactics for hunting the huge hillside that lay before us. The plan was to send Dad around the front of the hill and skirt the opposite side, while Davin and I walked the front. This way is one party scared deer over the other side than the party opposite would have a likely second look at the deer attempting to escape. On the far side of the hill was a saddle pass that we agreed that both parties would climb and meet. Our separate journeys began and Davin and I began searching the hillside for any signs of movement. The draw below the hillside was a flat pocket leading up to the far side of the hill and ending on the slope of the saddle we had designated as the meeting place. About half way up, I jumped two does out of a gully that stretched the base of the hill. The does casually walked up the hill and picked up six or seven other does as they climbed the hill and went over the top and on to Dad’s side of the hill. Davin and I quickly identified each doe as they joined the other deer on the trail over the mountain. We continued up the draw further moving slowly and fervently keeping an eye on the hillside. We spied a few more does moving among the rocky crowns that covered parts of the hilltop but still no bucks appeared among them. These too climbed over the top of the mountain and continued onto Dad’s side of the hill. Davin and I were soon approaching the up hill slope of the saddle we were to meet Dad when suddenly Davin stopped. He had spotted three new deer who had appeared suddenly from the rock outcroppings near the peak of the hill. Upon closer inspection and spying through our gun scopes we positively determined that on was a buck. Not a big one by any means but we were both willing to take a shoot at him. I had sat down and barely found the deer in my scope when Davin took his first shot at the deer. He Missed! But the deer only took a set or two, turned around, and stopped. Davin took a second shot and hit the deer in the shoulder and chest. The deer fell and struggled trying to get back up onto its feet. Davin shot a third time and missed but the deer fell back to the ground and never tried to get up again. In the excitement I forgot all about Dad and his whereabouts. Instead, Davin and I talked about where the deer had fallen and the best route up to the designated spot. We determined that it would be best if I stayed at the bottom and guided Davin up the hill just in case he got off track and so that if the deer got up and ran again that I would have a likely chance to kill the deer if it attempted to escape. I was nervous and excited for Davin as he started his ascent towards the kill spot. Davin found his way up fairly quickly and as he was closely approaching the spot that his deer lay an interesting thing happened. Another buck that had been laying and hiding in a rock crevice close to Davin’s dead deer suddenly jumped up and began running as Davin was only ten feet from its hiding place. I in the mean time had taken a few steps up toward the rocky slope and had stopped to rest when the animal jumped from the rocks and began running for the top. I pulled my gun to my shoulder and took aim as I heard Davin shout,” Shoot it! Shoot it! It is a buck shoot it!.” But before he could finish I pulled the trigger and MISSED! I missed my first shot. I was winded from the short climb I had taken and I rushed the shot thinking I would only have one opportunity for a shot at the buck. I did not give up however. Instead, I pumped another shell into the chamber, made a quick adjustment to my scope settings, returned the gun to my shoulder and took aim again at the deer. By this time the buck was nearing the crest of the hill and had slowed from a run to a slight bounce. I took careful aim at the deer’s upper shoulder, lead it just a bit, and squeezed off the shot making sure to time it at the time the deer would hit the earth on its next bounce. I held my breath for one second, and then two. My head was swimming and I could feel adrenaline and excitement rush over my whole body. Had I really seen what I thought was the head of the deer flop over and fall to the ground? Had the deer instantly vanished into thin air? Or had I seen it drop like a rock to the ground immediately after I pulled the trigger? I was in denial. The deer could not have vanished and yet the deer was not continuing over the top of the hill. The only explanation of the deer’s apparent disappearance was that I had finally completed a goal that had eluded me since the time I was twelve and for the past seventeen years. I had just shot and killed my very first mule deer. The realization flooded over me in a heap of emotions and I clambered huffing and puffing up the steep embankment and up the slope to the spot I was sure my new prize had fallen defeated. The seconds felt like minutes as I stumbled and clawed my way upwards towards the crowning rocks above. I heard another shot ring out and figured it must be Davin finishing off his deer he had just located among the jagged labyrinth of rock formations. Only minutes past by when I was nearing the crest of the slope. Davin had abandoned his deer and was trying to locate the spot were mine deer had fallen. All I could say was,” It’s down. Davin it’s down. It was near the top. It’s down.” Davin continued the search with me pointing the direction that I knew the dead deer lay. My mouth was dry and my breathing heavy as I came ever closer to the spot I last saw the deer land. Davin repeated that he could not find any trace of it as I neared a particular out cropping of rock shaped like the bow of a massive oil ship. I neared the bottom of the rock piled and again as Davin professed to not see any sign of the deer I stopped in my tracks. Just above me about 5 feet away lay my small trophy mule deer buck. I yelled for Davin that I had found it and he came running over. It was a glorious moment as we yelled, screamed, and hugged at the sight and realization that we had just performed the first ever known tandem deer kill in the foster family. This was a rare occasion and we spent the following minutes looking over the magnificent animals we had just killed and wondering where Dad had gotten too. I ran over the top of the hill hoping to locate dad on the opposite side. Little did I know that when the shooting first began Dad had headed to the top of the saddle were we where suppose to meet and upon arrival heard us yell. He quickly located us and headed for the top to join us in our little celebration. Not being able to find Dad down the back side slope I decide it would be best to return and begin the process of dragging the deer off the mountain.
