Steady rains Friday night and Saturday morning had swelled the two streams that go through our hard-woods from 6-10 inches to nearly 3 feet limiting my still-hunting to 1/3 of our woods. After the incredible hunt I had earlier this week with the 112 year old 1893 Marlin, (This old Marlin) I relaxed and decided not to push my luck. Retiring her back to the vault I pondered what to try to use on a doe. Shotgun? Boring… Done the smoke pole both flint and inline. Even had a couple of nice harvests with the 44 Redhawk… Then, from the back of the vault, a little glimmer of a deep blue steel caught my attention. His voice came to me as if to say WTF. O Yeaa. “The Miller”
Named after the only man outside of family to ever give me a gun. Steve was a tall strapping figure of a man. He was a very “black-an-white” type of guy and we became good friends. He was an avid handgun shooter but did not hunt. We would get together every other month and shoot handguns either at my house or an indoor range in the Cleveland area. He liked my Ruger Redhawk but would tease me that it just “needed” something. One day he walked into my office and handed me a brand new Marlin 1894 S Limited. It had a 16” barrel instead of the usual 18-20 inch and was chambered in the 44 rem/mag. I was dumbfounded. Steve was just that way. His only request was that I kill a deer with it. I was hunting PA too back then (mid-late 1990’s) so I promised and the gun was mine.
The rest of the week I have carried “The Miller”. Storm fronts, mid gun week, full moon, wrong lucky underwear… for whatever reason the woods had no deer. I was beginning to think I had cashed in all my superstition deer hunting credits on that buck earlier in the week. So Saturday afternoon I’m sitting in a stand, the woods rain soaked and its getting close to 4:30 and I just have this feeling I should be somewhere else. You know the feeling… It eats at you. I can see the stream and its swollen banks but there’s no way to walk across and I just know I want to spend the last 30 min of shooting light on the other side… But I can’t walk but, I can drive! Climbing down I hoofed it to the 4 wheeler, strapped the gun in, put er in 4 wheel and dove on in. Half way across I came quickly to the realization that it was a little deeper than I thought as the water splashed over my headlights. O shit! O shit! O shit! My brain was screaming as I poured on the gas but the Brute served me well and clawed on across. The engine was still steaming as I came out of the woods and parked at the edge of the field. “Guess I’ll take the long way home after dark” I told myself as I got off and started my stalk down the very same field I had killed the buck in just days ago. By now it was starting to look like the day was going to end with a cold gun. The sun was out of sight and there was only about 15 min of shooting light left when I saw her. The wind had dropped off some but still in my favor but she was on to me and was not sure if she should stay put or blow. She started to move around a thicket the size of a 2 car shed so I took advantage of her momentary loss of eye contact to move 15 yards and wait for her to come around the other side. The field was one of those old over-grown types with 6-8 foot tall red brush and pricker-blackberry bushes and very very thick aside from the trails I have cut through with the brush hog. I tried to slow my breathing and calm down but it was tuff. 5 minutes and she still hadn’t come around. I was beginning to think she had just kept going out the back side of the brush when she popped out. Her demeanor was calmer now and looking at where I had been and not seeing me she calmed down and started to nibble on a nearby plant. She never even saw me at 25-30 yards as I raised the Miller and fired. The 270 gr. Speer Gold dot hit her so hard she almost flipped! At the same time 2 other deer exploded from near-by her that I never even knew were there! She got back on her feet and vaulted into the heavy brush. I thought I heard her crash but wasn’t sure due to the other deer taking off as well.
Light was pretty much gone by the time I pushed far enough into the brush to see her lying there dead not 15 yards or so from where I shot her but I was going to need help just getting her out of that thick brush. Help came in the form of a diesel 4 wheel drive tractor. I used the front bucket to plow my way in and retrieve my prize. Later field dressing would show the round blew out the top half of her heart. She was a big doe and would bring many fine meals to my table. Driving home on the tractor, my doe in the bucket I reflected on my promise to Steve I would take a deer with his gift. Back home I looked up at the moon and said “I’m a man of my word Steve. Here’s the deer. Thank you.”
From the next day. Told ya it was thick...
Big Doe.
This hunt is dedicated to my dear friend. The late Stephen C Miller. May he rest in peace.
...
Named after the only man outside of family to ever give me a gun. Steve was a tall strapping figure of a man. He was a very “black-an-white” type of guy and we became good friends. He was an avid handgun shooter but did not hunt. We would get together every other month and shoot handguns either at my house or an indoor range in the Cleveland area. He liked my Ruger Redhawk but would tease me that it just “needed” something. One day he walked into my office and handed me a brand new Marlin 1894 S Limited. It had a 16” barrel instead of the usual 18-20 inch and was chambered in the 44 rem/mag. I was dumbfounded. Steve was just that way. His only request was that I kill a deer with it. I was hunting PA too back then (mid-late 1990’s) so I promised and the gun was mine.
The rest of the week I have carried “The Miller”. Storm fronts, mid gun week, full moon, wrong lucky underwear… for whatever reason the woods had no deer. I was beginning to think I had cashed in all my superstition deer hunting credits on that buck earlier in the week. So Saturday afternoon I’m sitting in a stand, the woods rain soaked and its getting close to 4:30 and I just have this feeling I should be somewhere else. You know the feeling… It eats at you. I can see the stream and its swollen banks but there’s no way to walk across and I just know I want to spend the last 30 min of shooting light on the other side… But I can’t walk but, I can drive! Climbing down I hoofed it to the 4 wheeler, strapped the gun in, put er in 4 wheel and dove on in. Half way across I came quickly to the realization that it was a little deeper than I thought as the water splashed over my headlights. O shit! O shit! O shit! My brain was screaming as I poured on the gas but the Brute served me well and clawed on across. The engine was still steaming as I came out of the woods and parked at the edge of the field. “Guess I’ll take the long way home after dark” I told myself as I got off and started my stalk down the very same field I had killed the buck in just days ago. By now it was starting to look like the day was going to end with a cold gun. The sun was out of sight and there was only about 15 min of shooting light left when I saw her. The wind had dropped off some but still in my favor but she was on to me and was not sure if she should stay put or blow. She started to move around a thicket the size of a 2 car shed so I took advantage of her momentary loss of eye contact to move 15 yards and wait for her to come around the other side. The field was one of those old over-grown types with 6-8 foot tall red brush and pricker-blackberry bushes and very very thick aside from the trails I have cut through with the brush hog. I tried to slow my breathing and calm down but it was tuff. 5 minutes and she still hadn’t come around. I was beginning to think she had just kept going out the back side of the brush when she popped out. Her demeanor was calmer now and looking at where I had been and not seeing me she calmed down and started to nibble on a nearby plant. She never even saw me at 25-30 yards as I raised the Miller and fired. The 270 gr. Speer Gold dot hit her so hard she almost flipped! At the same time 2 other deer exploded from near-by her that I never even knew were there! She got back on her feet and vaulted into the heavy brush. I thought I heard her crash but wasn’t sure due to the other deer taking off as well.
Light was pretty much gone by the time I pushed far enough into the brush to see her lying there dead not 15 yards or so from where I shot her but I was going to need help just getting her out of that thick brush. Help came in the form of a diesel 4 wheel drive tractor. I used the front bucket to plow my way in and retrieve my prize. Later field dressing would show the round blew out the top half of her heart. She was a big doe and would bring many fine meals to my table. Driving home on the tractor, my doe in the bucket I reflected on my promise to Steve I would take a deer with his gift. Back home I looked up at the moon and said “I’m a man of my word Steve. Here’s the deer. Thank you.”
From the next day. Told ya it was thick...
Big Doe.
This hunt is dedicated to my dear friend. The late Stephen C Miller. May he rest in peace.
...
