RATTLING REVELATION

I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL the first time I rattled up a buck. My buddy and I were sitting on the edge of a big clover field, watching a little 8-pointer chase two does at the other end. “I’m gonna rattle at him,” I whispered with the clueless confidence of a 16-year-old. I’d watched enough hunting tapes to know how to do it.

Not 30 seconds into crashing a pair of shed antlers together, a Booner-class 13-pointer charged into the field from our right and stood 35 yards away.