Three does bolted out of the scrub on the other side of the clearing, heading straight towards me with a buck on their heels. Bugger! This wasn’t the plan!
I HAD to think fast. Camera or rifle? Rifle! Doe or buck? Buck!
They veered slightly to my right as they entered my patch of trees and Sifton bush. I tracked the buck in the scope, catching glimpses between bushes until he stopped, completely hidden except for one antler. I stepped a pace to the right, saw his head and neck exposed and put my finger on the trigger.
Cruz was gunna hate me for this!
This was Cruz’s buck. This whole three-day camping and hunting expedition was mostly about Cruz shooting his first buck.
This place was full of deer as well as pigs, rabbits, hares, foxes and a few goats. Open paddocks adjoined large blocks of forest. Sandstone bluffs full of caves provided shelter to all kinds of critters; the previous owners of the place had even discovered a bushranger’s
