Cunningham Ghost

By Dragan Vujic

Dragan Vujic describes in detail how he hunted the same buck on the same property for six years. Year by year, he relates the lessons learned, the equipment and set-ups employed, the places hunted, the other bucks harvested, the strategies and tactics utilized. After the fourth season, the buck went nocturnal. A new game plan had to be formulated. Finally, in the sixth year, Dragan Vujic put an arrow through a majestic monarch of the wild. It was an exhilarating experience and a valuable education in the art of whitetail hunting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 28, 2008
• ISBN: 9780595611478

Dragan Vujic

Dragan Vujic is a writer and an avid outdoorsman. He resides in rural southern Ontario, Canada where he enjoys a quiet, serene lifestyle. Dragan may be contacted at: [e-mail] or [e-mail].

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Contents

Introduction

THE SIX YEAR HUNT

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

EPILOGUE

A Few Tales

Dedicated to Roy Cunningham, in memoriam,

for a handful of everlasting memories

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Roy Cunningham

(1924-2007)

I would also like to thank Allan Cunningham for helping me haul numerous

bucks out of the bush over the years, especially the biggest buck of them all.

I certainly could not have managed on my own.

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LONG HAVE I HUNTED YOU.

LONG HAVE YOU ELUDED ME.

BUT, NOT THIS DAY.

In December of 2007, I dispatched an arrow that ended a six year whitetail hunt for one extremely elusive buck. That memorable late autumn day, I successfully harvested a monster buck that I had been chasing for six years. This is my story.

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Introduction 

I would like to share with you my experience of hunting the same white-tailed buck for six years. Every season was filled with excitement and hope. Each autumn, I looked forward with anticipation of chasing this magnificent game animal. His antlers increased in mass, length and number of points as time marched on. My odyssey concluded on December 2nd, 2007. On that day I harvested the wilderness monarch with a well-placed arrow. The shaft perforated both lungs. This ended the most challenging and enjoyable hunt of my life. Words alone cannot describe the exhilaration or the Hunter’s High that I felt when I touched the antlers of the fallen buck. It was a moment and a memory that I will always remember and cherish. That fateful day is ingrained deep in my heart.

In the span of five years, I used four different bows. My first bow was an Indian Northwoods XI, which I had purchased in the spring of 1986. Up until 2001, I had hunted with this bow for well over a decade. Thereafter, I hunted the Cunningham farms for an additional two years with the Indian XI. This particular piece of archery equipment only had one front sight and no rear sights. My effective killing range was twenty-five yards. A fair number of whitetails were harvested within that distance.

Then, in the fall of 2004, I switched to an Excalibur Exomax crossbow with a variable two and a half to four power scope, in hopes of increasing my killing range and accuracy. Consistent accuracy was achieved at all yardages up to sixty yards. The scope allowed me to shoot longer into the twilight hours. I also made the shift from aluminum arrows to carbon arrows and lighter broad heads. My one hundred and twenty-five grain Rocky Mountain tips were replaced with one hundred grain Wasps (Boss SST). I also switched from conical tips to chisel tips.

Later, experiencing a few shortcomings with chisel tips, I abandoned the Wasps in favour of the 100 grain Razorcaps with cut-on-contact tips.

The cut-on-contact tips, despite their superior cutting ability, did not have the same smash-through power of chisel tips. Searching for a solution and the optimum broad head, I decided to temporarily carry two arrows tipped with chisel tips and two arrows tipped with cut-on-contact tips. Subsequently, not content to carry arrows with two different types of broad heads, I made the transition to 100 grain Montec broad heads. However, hunting with a crossbow was not the same as hunting with a compound bow. It was a different kind of experience.

When the 2006 deer season rolled around, I commenced hunting with a Bowtech Tribute and carbon arrows tipped with one hundred grain Montec cut-on-contact broad heads. This was a radical switch within the realm of compound bows. The axel to axel length of the Bowtech Tribute was only thirty-one and a half inches juxtaposed to the Indian Northwoods XI, which was forty two inches. Also, due to the shorter bow, faster, lighter arrows, drop away arrow rest and a five pin lighted front sight and a rear peep sight, I had to utilize a release. My anchor point was different. Shorter arrows were also part of the package.

In brief, I had to learn a whole new way of shooting because of the mechanics of the bow and due to the more precise sighting system. However, the benefits were most worthwhile and very rewarding. In comparison to the Indian Northwoods XI compound bow, I more than doubled my effective killing range to sixty yards. After considerable practice, I could consistently hit a paper coffee cup at sixty yards. In addition, the bow was exceptionally quiet and a real dream to handle after I became accustomed to the dynamics. However, the Bowtech Tribute was not the bow that launched the fatal arrow that killed a monster buck and ended my six year hunt.

Sometime during the 2006 deer hunting season, the Cunningham Ghost went nocturnal. It was a time to seriously review all that I had gone on in the previous years. Also, the prospect that the monarch had died loomed overhead. But, I did find large tracks that I assumed to be his. This gave me hope. I had to further modify my efforts to successfully harvest this elusive buck. After pondering the altered situation for quite some time, I decided to purchase a recurve bow for the 2007 hunt. Why? I was certain that I would shoot him at close range. The action would be fast and furious. Therefore, I needed a piece of archery equipment that allowed for fast target acquisition. The guesses all proved to be correct. It was the Martin Hunter Recurve that sent the carbon shaft that terminated the life of a monarch buck that I had hunted for so very long.

The annual hunts were perpetual learning experiences. As the years wandered by, I received a first class education in the art of whitetail hunting. Some lessons were harsh, while others were a pleasure to learn, but they were all most informative. It was a period of change and growth. Prior to 1986, I had hunted whitetails for roughly twenty years with a wide variety of firearms. In 1986, Denny Novak introduced me to the art of bow hunting. This took me to unprecedented heights and opened up a whole new world for me. Bow hunting forced me to become a more astute deer hunter. Although my education concerning whitetail hunting commenced in 1966 (the year that I harvested my first buck), it went to a much higher level when I picked up a bow. Since then, I have continued learning something new every season.

After trying, modifying and implementing a wide variety of strategies and tactics, I formulated my own game plan. I named it the 4P method. Assuming that it would work for me, I applied what I had been taught in the wild and judiciously adhered to the four basic components of this newly created methodology. But just when I thought that I had it all figured out, the Cunningham Ghost threw me a curve ball. He went completely nocturnal. Now a new game plan had to be formulated. Flexibility and adaptability is the key in any strategy. Unpredictable variables always arise unexpectedly. Revising my tactics and techniques, I succeeded in the harvesting my biggest buck ever. I had reaped the rewards of applied, accumulated knowledge. When you get it right, the buck of your dreams falls under your arrow. Of course, I cannot take all the credit. I am certain that luck also played a major role.

There are a host of different variables in each whitetail hunt. No two hunts are ever identical. Although logic may be a good starting point, intuition usually ends up becoming your best guide. Somewhere along the way, common sense yields to uncommon sense. Lady Luck interferes more often than not. Perhaps, fate decides who receives what. Or maybe, chance favours the prepared hunter. Whitetail hunting is an art that involves a combination of knowledge, skill and chance.

This book first started off as a journal in the autumn of 2002. Although I had received my first glimpse of this magnificent monarch of the whitetail wilderness in 2001, I did not commence hunting him until the subsequent season. I have been writing and documenting my experiences with this specific buck for five years. Despite the fact that frustration and negativity set in on more than a few occasions, it has been an overall positive and invigorating journey. I hope you enjoy reading about my six year quest that ended in a successful harvest.

THE SIX YEAR HUNT 

CHAPTER 1 

PRELUDE

I first started whitetail hunting on the Cunningham farm in the autumn of 2001. The Cunningham family raised cattle and farmed over three hundred and fifty acres. Crops were rotated on an annual basis, except for corn, which was the predominant crop. Corn was sown and harvested two years in a row. The following year beans, winter wheat or hay would be grown. Thereafter, corn would once again be grown for two consecutive years. A river flowed through the property and was bordered by woodlots, brush and grass on both sides. The forested area, which was very thick in some places and sparse in others, comprised approximately thirty-seven acres. The balance of the farm was workable land. Given the fact that agricultural fields surrounded the woodlots on each side of the waterway, this was prime whitetail hunting habitat.

Allan Cunningham and I first met in the fall of 1997 at a martial arts club where we both trained. During the following years of training and participating in the same tournaments, Allan and I developed a friendship. We discussed several topics and contributed articles to a now defunct martial arts magazine. The subject of hunting came up on a few occasions. Although I requested to hunt deer on his farm, Allan was reluctant to give me permission to do so because of other arrangements with his third cousin, Don Cunningham. However, I persisted and politely asked the same question every year. Allan himself did not hunt, but he was a reasonably good shot with a scoped twenty-two caliber rifle that he kept for raccoons and other varmints.

Much to my surprise and great delight, during the late summer of 2001, Allan actually invited me to come and hunt whitetails on the farms that he worked. I was very grateful for this privilege. Good hunting areas are diminishing every year and extremely difficult to acquire. Recently, it has become very hard to find places to hunt in southern Ontario. As previously stated, there was considerable acreage that was worked by the Cunninghams. Some of the property, Allan and his wife, Lois Noland, owned some of the land was owned by his parents, Roy and Gladys Cunningham, and other sections were rented from neighbours. I would often see Roy due to the fact that I usually commence my hunt on his property.

Allan stated on numerous occasions, I have no love of deer. They cause annual crop damage into the thousands of dollars. Shoot as many as you like. I thanked him for the privilege of hunting on his properties and said that I would shoot as many whitetails as I could legally harvest in that area. He also asked me to shoot a few raccoons and coyotes in the process. I agreed to do so. The raccoons due to their sheer numbers were causing substantial crop damage. The coyotes posed a serious threat to his chickens. I perceived myself, among other things, to be someone in the crop damage reduction business.

The Cunningham clan had granted me permission to bow hunt on all the properties that they owned and occupied with one proviso. Don Cunningham, a third cousin, who lived in the same concession, had traditionally party hunted these same lands for many years. He and his comrades did so during one of the three muzzleloader seasons. They would alternate between the options from year to year. As a matter of courtesy, I was asked not to interfere with their hunts. I readily agreed to stay out of their way during these time frames. This was not an onerous obligation due to the fact that there were numerous whitetails in the region. There was more than enough deer for everyone to harvest and lots left over.

Due to prior commitments, I could not commence my whitetail hunting season until the latter part of November in 2001. Most of the first week was spent scouting new and unfamiliar territory. There was an abundance of tracks, especially along the river edges. I secured a couple of tree stands and set up three ground sites. Since the crops had been harvested well over a month ago, I was limited to hunting along active trails in the bush. There appeared to be an abundance of sign, indicating that a fair number of whitetails were still around.

That year, the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources allowed a hunter to purchase two deer tags. In previous years, a hunter could only shoot one whitetail per season. Although the first whitetail could be harvested with either a firearm of a bow, depending on season and region, the second tag was exclusively for archery kills. Since I hunted whitetails predominantly with my compound bow, this situation suited me just fine. With two tags in my pocket, I set off with the intention to harvest two fine bucks. At the time, I was using an Indian Northwoods compound bow, thirty inch aluminum Eastman Gamegetter II 2117 arrows and one hundred and twenty-five grain Rocky Mountain broadheads.

In the last week of November, I arrowed down a nice eating spike buck—my first kill on the Cunningham farm. Having arrived about an hour and a half before sunset, I setup on the ground beside a large maple and behind a fallen tree. A forested slope with a steep angle served as my background. My camouflage clothing blended in well with these particular surroundings. The distance to the near edge of the river was roughly twenty yards. It was a comfortable shot that I could easily make if a whitetail walked along my side of the river.

Approximately an hour passed. Then, I noticed movement along the riverbank. A young buck was casually ambling along his way. He would stop periodically and scan his immediate environment. I watched him for about ten minutes. Then, he arrived directly in front of me. Unnoticed, I came to full draw and set the pin on my compound midway on his chest. At that time I hunted with only one pin, which was sighted at twenty yards. There was no rear sight. I whistled softly. The buck stopped momentarily, offering me a perfect broad side shot.

I released my arrow and watched the shaft pass through his rib cage. The buck exploded and absconded at high speed. Unfortunately, he ran across the river and died on the other side. I saw and heard him fall on the carpet of multi-coloured leaves. But, excited with my first big game harvest on the Cunningham farm, I did not mind getting wet in order to retrieve my whitetail. After eviscerating him, I grabbed a hold of the antlers and dragged the carcass across the river into the lowland flats. There, I left him and went to get Allan to give me a hand to drag him out. Despite the fact that he was only a spike, the buck had a considerable weight to him. All the whitetails in the region were well fed, given the generous abundance of corn and beans in the agricultural belt.

Allan was only too glad to help me out. Due to the location of the buck, we could not use the tractor. I had dropped him in the heart of the woodlot. We had a relatively long trip through the forest. Despite the fact that Allan did not hunt, he knew his farm extremely well. We took the easiest trail out. But, it was still a tough trek. When we finally hauled the spike out of the bush, it was pitch black. Thereafter, we loaded him into the back of my car.

At the time, I was driving a 1994 Ford Escort hatchback. Surprisingly, with the rear seat folded down, this vehicle had a lot of room for a small car. The buck and my archery equipment fit nicely with space to spare. I even managed to close the truck. Allan congratulated me once more and bid me farewell. I drove off with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart. Every time I harvest a whitetail, I feel terrific, irrespective of size and gender.

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At home prior to skinning and butchering the buck, I removed his tarsal glands. I always do that. Thereafter, I placed the tarsal glands in a zip lock plastic freezer bag and put them in my fridge. Later, I use them as natural based attractants. First, I select a small tree or bush within shooting distance of my stand. Then, I squeeze and rub the contents of the tarsal glands into the bark or remaining foliage of the shrub. In addition, I may hang a set of tarsal glands on a branch, roughly eighteen inches off the ground and let them flutter in the wind. I always keep in mind that whitetails, especially the mature bucks, will predominantly come in downwind to the check any scent. Also, they will attempt to stay in cover for as long as possible.

I have seen both does and bucks come forth and sniff the secreted remnants of these glands. This tactic seems to work well in all three phases of the deer hunting season—Pre-Rut, Rut and Post-Rut. Typically, a set of tarsal glands will give off odour for two to three weeks. Sometimes, there may even be a faint odour after four weeks. However, rain will dilute the potency of the tarsal glands and direct sunlight will cause the tarsal glands to lose some of their vitality. In addition, a steady rain tends to restrict the movement of scent molecules. Thus, the odour will not travel as far on a wet day as it would on a dry day. I usually tie the tarsal glands to my belt when I leave my vehicle and wear them to my set up. Occasionally, I will use these glands as a cover up scent by keeping them on my person. However, I only do this when the odour has faded to some extent—usually after two weeks.

According to my limited sense of smell (perhaps even retarded in comparison to that of a whitetail), no two tarsal glands appear to smell the same. Some may be pleasant, while others give off a putrid odour. I don’t know why. But, each set seems to have its one unique olfactory identity. Having experimented to some degree with placement, I believe that a slightly higher elevation (above ground level) in better due to the fact that air circulation may enhance their smell and disperse the scent more effectively. A final suggestion—never leave your tarsal glands behind when you leave an area. Place them in a plastic bag and take these jewels with you.

I learned a long time ago that the whitetail’s most highly evolved attribute and greatest asset is the sense of smell. A whitetail’s capacity to smell is at least twenty-five times more acute than any human olfactory ability. This is a substantial difference. They can easily detect foreign or unusual odours. Scent is the silent language of chemical communication. Specialized skin glands, urine, vaginal secretions and saliva constitute the sources of a deer’s communicative odours.

Once a deer gets a whiff of any potential threat, including human hunters, it is gone.

Due to the tendency of