Pennsylvania Game News - October 2017 - 47

RILLIANT morning sunshine
filtered down through an October
canopy as I slipped into a little
patch of hemlock and white pine that
overlooked a gentle slope of oak trees.
I scuffed myself a quiet place to stand
and settled in, accompanied only by the
sound of falling leaves ticking on the
forest floor and on the net of evergreen
branches above me.
One could not have asked for a better
autumn day, and I was fortunate enough
to have enjoyed an entire week of it.
While my eyes scanned the ground
in front of me, my mind drifted away to
replay the events of the past few days.
It was the early muzzleloader season,
and while I had hunted deer with a muzzleloader since I was a teenager, I'd never
dedicated much time to the early season.
A Saturday here or there, or a day
during the week I happened to have off
from work would be the extent of it.
This year would be different.
I was able to scrounge up enough
vacation time to get into the woods for
five days, and I intended to spend them
enjoying the autumn woods and learning
some new hunting areas. Any opportunity
at a deer would be a welcome bonus.
I also was eager to carry my new flintlock, a traditional 62-caliber smoothbore
crafted by a Jefferson County gun builder.
A summer's worth of practice showed it
was as good as a rifle, out to 45 yards or so.

A deer highway
The first Saturday found me hunting
with my dad in Forest County, within the
Allegheny National Forest.
I still-hunted my way into a hemlockfilled creek bottom that's a proven deer
highway. I hadn't been there much more
than an hour when I glimpsed a doe to my
left. It stopped broadside, 50 yards away.
OCTOBER 2017

As discreetly as I could, I knelt and
rested the flintlock's stock against a tree.
I eased the hammer back to full cock
and lined the sights on the doe's shoulder.
As if the flintlock's report was a starting pistol, the doe turned and high-tailed it
back across the creek and up the hillside,
apparently untouched.
I watched as it bounded for a couple
hundred yards out of view.
I found no blood, only tracks dug into
the forest floor, and I followed them until
they faded, spending three hours searching for any sign of a hit.
Turning up nothing, I could only conclude I'd cleanly missed.
While I saw no more does, I did have a
3-point buck trot up to me that afternoon.
All in all, it was a good day, despite
the disappointment of missing the shot.

In a hurry
I would be able to hunt again on Tuesday through Friday. Expecting little company in the woods, I planned to still-hunt
on public land near my Centre County
home. At worst, it would allow me to
learn the lay of the land a little better and
scout out some areas for the later seasons.
I saw deer each day, but most flushed
like grouse at about 20 paces. On two
occasions, I sighted deer milling about
a little ways off, but they vanished in the
time it took me to close the distance.
My best opportunity came on Wednesday. I was looking for a nice area to watch
while I ate my lunch.
A little rocky hill looked to fit the bill,
and I impatiently plodded through the
greenbrier to get to the top of it.
My eyes were on my footing when
I glanced up to find myself, eye to eye,
with three does at rock-throwing distance.
They bolted as I brought the gun up.
I could only wish I'd paid more atten47

Pennsylvania Game News - October 2017

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