Ohio offered another weekend of gun season this past Saturday and Sunday two weeks after the main gun season ended. I had a third and final tag in the wallet and the inclination to take out the new to us Ruger #3 in 45/70 in an effort to fill it. Saturday was mighty quiet, which I attributed to how much pressure this particular farm received by the guys bow hunting it all Fall. Then the main gun season it was hit pretty hard by those fellas and myself with at least four shot that I know of, including the doe I took. Would I see any now? It didn't appear that any were left on this large tract of land. The evening came with the sky so grey that it was getting darker well before last light. Having seen nothing coming out to feed in the harvested corn field the decision was made to slink southeast to scan another field before all light was gone. Easing up along the edge of the field and next to tall grass a doe bounds up and out into the field followed by a nice buck who spooked out further into the field before turning broadside to look back. I tried a quick off hand shot when the crosshairs appeared to be on his chest, but with no meat report, his reaction and high bounds toward the SW corner of the field convinced me that I did not connect. Still, as a responsible hunter the onus was on me to look. Running out of light for a thorough search I dropped by Dad's place to spend some time with him, eat his oreos and watch a show on Grit to keep him company.
Sunday morning, yesterday, I wasn't in a hurry to get up in a flurry of activity. Drank a cup of coffee, enjoyed breakfast, washed the dishes in the sink, eventually donned the hunting garb and left the house around first light. Not a normal hunting morning but quite enjoyable to go at a less harried pace to be there well before first light. My first priority was to confirm what I was certain of, that the buck wasn't hit or laying dead in the corn rows or the two neighboring pastures to the west and south. It is about a 3/4 mile hike to the back field, the air was more than brisk and the wind was blowing stiffly once the farm lane lead me to that elevation. Finally, a clear sky had dawned, threatening bright sunlight for the entire day. First in weeks, so it seems. I pace diagonally across the field scanning the rows left and right with the binoculars every couple steps. It took awhile to complete that portion of the search with not a sign of spoor nor beast sprawled out frozen in the morning sun. Then I climbed up on a large downed tree trunk to glass the neighbor's cattle pasture across the fence. He has take out more trees since the last time I peered across this boundary fence. It is a pretty view. Again, no dead buck to be seen. Hopping off the tree carefully I walked over to the SW corner to peek into the south neighbor's back pasture. If they were looking out their yonder farm house window they would have wondered why some orange pumpkin fellow was spying into their parcel. It wasn't because a dead buck was lying there, that was for sure. Knowing that I had exhausted my search, with my convictions confirmed that last night's buck will live to breed another doe, which was probably why he was with her on the second rut, I was free to do as I pleased. What that would be was decided for me within seconds of stepping away from the corner fence post to walk back into the field.
As I was viewing the south pasture the stiff west wind was blowing my sent directly into said neighbor's woodlot, which is adjacent to the big corn field I just walked through. In an unplanned turn of events I became my own driver by standing in that wind stream. Next thing I know a line of does were jumping the fence and running across the corn field about 120 yards to my east. They were running to quick to get a sight picture so waiting was the only course of action to take. Then, the monarch of the bunch followed them up but stopped broadside long enough for me to rest the #3 on a small branch of the sapling I was next to. At the shot she dropped hard and the boolit impact was loud. She was down but trying desperately to get up. She was energetic but with a broken spine she wasn't going anywhere. I walked about 50 yards toward her but when she caught my movement it would cause her to work vigorously to leave, but to no avail. Still, I would rather not cause anymore distress than necessary to a wounded animal. I paused and took a knee to get below her line of sight. Wanting to put another shot into her to finish the job as fast as possible wasn't feasible on my knees as the corn stubble was cut too high to see her clearly. Standing allowed me to see her head that was up and looking around. Careful aim and trigger control allowed an off hand shot to connect that target, instantly ending the hunt.
The Accurate WFN soft range scrap cast boolits out of the 45/70 has worked very well in the Marlin CB and now this Ruger. I'll be handing off the #3 to my son now for him to enjoy what it has to offer for next year's gun season.
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