I awoke during the night from the sound of raindrops on my window pane. It was hard to get back to sleep what with worrying about all the problems it causes. The worst is the build-up of ice on the power lines, coupled with strong winds which pull down the lines . No power, no sump pumps, equals water flooding the basement.
Ice on the windshield a quarter of an inch thick gets the day off to a good start. Car door hard to open, windows frozen shut, roads like a skating rink.
But all that is minor when considering the effect freezing rain has on wildlife. With our two feet of snow, a frozen crust cuts the front legs of deer as they walk. Owls are unable to break through the crust to catch the mice they hear under the snow. Ruff Grouse can be sealed in their overnight shelter and starve to death.
I am not going to complain as I will not suffer any injuries or die of starvation.
Showing posts with label "deer hunting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label "deer hunting. Show all posts
Friday, February 4, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Late Night Visitors
.
My daily walks with the Norwegian Elkhounds were getting longer, as the young sister pups, Ragna and Melsie, were getting bigger and stronger. They could now keep up with old Signe, but they had the habit of stopping to check out every interesting scent they came across. Signe and I would continually have to stop and wait for them to catch up.
On this trip we ventured about a half mile Northeast of home, to check out a Bald Eagle that was feeding on a carcass out in the middle of a field. I had noticed it earlier with my binoculars and thought we might find some deer bones.
Once we got closer, the Eagle lifted off. It flew to a woods a short distance away and roosted in the top of a large tree, in order to keep an eye on us. The pups caught wind of the deer and soon raced ahead to check it out. Signe picked up a little speed too, but she knew what to expect and saw no threat from the pups.
From the tracks in the dirt it appeared the deer had been hit by a car and managed to stagger out into the field before it collapsed and died. The Coyotes on their nightly rounds located it, and had stripped all the meat and hide off the bones during the last couple of nights.
During the day the Bald Eagles had taken their turn, and there was little left but a skeleton. The pups were so excited they did not know what to do. This was their first experience with a dead deer.
Signe checked the remains and moved the sisters aside with a low growl and a display of teeth that got the message across. Most of the skeleton was still connected but Signe found one entire hind leg separate from the body. She immediately picked up the heaviest bone and started for home. The long leg with the hoof still attached, dragged in the dirt behind her.
The pups took turns trying to haul away a bone, but they were in a tug of war with each other over the carcass. I used my knife to cut off the lower leg bone of each front leg, along with the hoof. When I presented each pup with a section of leg, they wasted no time in trotting off after Signe.
Once they were on their way home, I grabbed the remaining rear leg, and dragging the entire carcass remains, I fell inline behind the team. We no doubt looked like a small gang of experienced hunters, hauling the remains of our kill home.
The pups had to stop and rest a couple of times, but they refused to abandon their piece of the treasure. Signe was home and chewing on her leg bone, with sheer delight, by the time the rest of us got home. The three of them worked on the deer remains all evening, until they were too full and too tired to continue.
The pups were not big or strong enough to crack open the leg bones to extract the marrow, but they happily chewed on a hoof until it was gone. Then they went to work on the ribs. The last time I checked on them they were lying contentedly in the yard, fast asleep, with deer bones scattered all around them.
The fearless pups kept yapping and moving towards the pitch black woods, through a small grass covered field that lay between the house and the trees. Signe kept moving forward, but she stayed close to them.
I was not dressed to charge into the black void, so I went back in the house and dressed.
When I came back out the three dogs were at least a hundred feet further from the house and the barking was getting a lot more serious. I had a flashlight but had to use it to see where I was walking in the deep grass and rough ground.
When I caught up the to pups they were barking very excitedly, while Signe had a deep throated growl and from her stance I could see she was very tense and about to attack. She was displaying a full mouth of very deadly teeth, behind her curled upper lip.
It was at that point that I used the flash light to scout the edge of the woods that lay about fifty feet ahead.
Reflected back by the flashlight I saw a pair of bright shining eyes and the face of a Coyote. Signe seemed to be concentrating on something to our left so I swept the beam in that direction and the flashlight showed three more pairs of glowing eyes.
The pack of coyotes had followed the deer carcass drag trail and were there to take back their deer!
After a short stand-off I managed to force the pups to back off and moved towards the house. They were not big enough nor wise enough to tackle one coyote, never mind four. Signe was capable of doing a lot of damage in a fight, but four to one was a little too much.
Signe stood her ground until we were on our way home and then she slowly gave way and moved back with us. Once at the house I got the three dogs in, and everyone calmed down. The pups were very pumped up with the venture and wanted to go back outside and deal with the interlopers. Signe quickly fell asleep on her blanket, having experienced just another normal day in the Minnesota Northwood’s.
In the morning, the visitors, and the main part of the deer carcass was gone.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Lost in the silence of the great Northwoods - Part 1.
It was December and the snow was about two feet deep when I decided I would go deer hunting. I left early in the morning and after driving 50 miles east of a small town in Northern Ontario I parked my car in a safe spot. Once on my snowshoes with my pack on my back, I headed north into the woods, rifle in hand. It was an overcast day but visibility was good and I was in no hurry. I was not desperate to get a deer but I was looking forward to spending the day far from people. I was peopled out.
This is very rugged county that is made up of miles and miles of rocky hills covered with evergreen trees, interspersed with small and medium sized lakes and creeks. You can be thoroughly lost in ten minutes
It was necessary to have an awareness of your surroundings and which direction you were heading.
My plan was to head north for an hour or so to get into an area where the deer would be undisturbed.
By noon I was hungry so I stopped on a rocky hill above a creek with a good open view to the north.
I sat on a large rock and dug into my pack for a sandwich, then poured myself a coffee into the cup of the thermos.
Sitting there I was warm from the snowshoeing, and feeling very calm, far from my daily trials and tribulations. As I slowly sipped the coffee I became aware of some slight movement down below and across the creek from me. It was a buck deer feeding and completely unaware of my prescence. There I sat, cup in hand with my rifle leaning against a tree.
I sat motionless, steam rising from my cup and breath from my lungs hanging in the frigid air. I was sure the slightest noise I made or swift movement would alert the deer. I had to get rid of the coffee and reach for the rifle. Painfully slowly, I lower the cup onto the snow covered rock, but my eyes never left the deer. It continued feeding contentedly, head down.
When the coffee was out of my right hand, the left slowly reached for the rifle that was about a foot away. My movements were slow and as long as the deer did not look towards me or swiveled its ears in my direction I continued my reach for the rifle. At this point I was starting to feel the cold creeping through my clothes. I was cooling off from sitting still too long.
When the rifle was within my grasp, my task was far from over. I had to lift it into a horizontal position and get it pointed at the deer. There was no wind blowing and in the snow filled woods there was not a sound. I found it hard to believe the deer had not smelled, heard, or seen me. After what seemed an eternity I had the rifle in position. Luckily the rifle was loaded but the safety was still on.
The click of the safety seemed unusually loud so I was not surprised when the deer looked up and directly at me. I had the rifle sighted before the click of the safety so I pulled the trigger a heart beat later. The crash of the rifle sounded so loud in the silence it was more like a cannon going off. The deer fell where it stood and did not move. The shot echoed off into the endless snow scene and then the silence returned.
I was rather stunned and a little surprised with my luck. I was always a good shot so that was not luck. It was the whole situation of shooting a deer while having my lunch that surprised me. I sat there quietly smiling in a smug way that I was later to regret.
The coffee was cold by now so I tossed it aside and poured a fresh cup. It was a big deer so I was going to have to cut it into sections after I dressed it, then make two or three trips back and forth to the car. It would be a busy time so I drank the coffee and packed away the remains of my meal.
I had removed my snowshoes while eating so it was a few moments before they were back on. With my pack on my back and rifle in hand, I start to head down to the deer. I was unable to travel directly to it because the rock between us was too steep. I headed east down a slope and then north to cross the small creek. When I got to the other side I found fresh deer tracks which I followed back west to where I shot the deer.
On the site of the kill all I found was a lot of disturbed snow and a few flecks of blood. I was very surprised to say the least. It had not been a clean kill. The deer had not only gotten back up, but headed east while I was putting on my snowshoes and floundering down hill. I was no longer smiling.
I do not believe in leaving wounded game to suffer and die a lingering death. I did not hesitate to turn around and start following the new tracks to the east. As I snowshoed along I noticed more flecks of blood so I knew the deer was injured. Because I was close behind the deer it was obvious that I was chasing it and that it would continue until I or the deer dropped. It made sense to stop and take the pressure off the deer. Maybe it would lay up somewhere and either bleed to death or stiffen up from the injury.
It was hard, but I forced myself to find a place to sit and then waited for twenty minutes while I drank the last of my coffee. The sun was well past the mid point in the sky so daylight was dwindling. The sky was darkening so it would be a dark night. I was not concerned about finding my way back to the vehicle as I had left a snowshoe trail a child could follow.
After my enforced twenty minute wait I found I was chilled and anxious to get back on the trail.
The snow was deeper down in the valley but I was stuck with following the deer no matter where it went.
It was an easy track to follow in the fresh deep snow. The drops of blood confirmed I was on the right track.
Within a half hour I came to the site where the deer last lay down. It was obvious from the marks in the snow and the blood that the deer was having trouble breathing. It had been shaking its head back and forth and the blood from its mouth was sprayed in a wide pattern. I assumed that it was a lung shot because of the bleeding from the mouth. Now I had to make some choices.
Because of the amount of blood, I judged it was a serious injury so I should continue my pursuit. Secondly, because my twenty minute break earlier had allowed the deer to lay down, I felt I should repeat it. Once again I sat for twenty minutes but the coffee was long gone. Soon I was walking around in circles trying to stay warm as the temperature was starting to drop. I was miles from the road and had not seen another living thing since taking the shot. The silence of the scene pressed down heavily all around me.
The scowl on my face was spreading as I started back on the trail to put the wounded deer out of its misery.
It was soon after that I started to notice that the trail led into a dense woods that was covered in deer tracks. I was in a winter deer park and the snow was packed down over a large area. At least a dozen deer had to be in the herd considering all the tracks. Tracking my deer went from easy to very difficult. It was a big buck so the larger track it left helped greatly, in addition to the odd speckle of blood. Read part 2 & 3.
This is very rugged county that is made up of miles and miles of rocky hills covered with evergreen trees, interspersed with small and medium sized lakes and creeks. You can be thoroughly lost in ten minutes
It was necessary to have an awareness of your surroundings and which direction you were heading.
My plan was to head north for an hour or so to get into an area where the deer would be undisturbed.
By noon I was hungry so I stopped on a rocky hill above a creek with a good open view to the north.
I sat on a large rock and dug into my pack for a sandwich, then poured myself a coffee into the cup of the thermos.
Sitting there I was warm from the snowshoeing, and feeling very calm, far from my daily trials and tribulations. As I slowly sipped the coffee I became aware of some slight movement down below and across the creek from me. It was a buck deer feeding and completely unaware of my prescence. There I sat, cup in hand with my rifle leaning against a tree.
I sat motionless, steam rising from my cup and breath from my lungs hanging in the frigid air. I was sure the slightest noise I made or swift movement would alert the deer. I had to get rid of the coffee and reach for the rifle. Painfully slowly, I lower the cup onto the snow covered rock, but my eyes never left the deer. It continued feeding contentedly, head down.
When the coffee was out of my right hand, the left slowly reached for the rifle that was about a foot away. My movements were slow and as long as the deer did not look towards me or swiveled its ears in my direction I continued my reach for the rifle. At this point I was starting to feel the cold creeping through my clothes. I was cooling off from sitting still too long.
When the rifle was within my grasp, my task was far from over. I had to lift it into a horizontal position and get it pointed at the deer. There was no wind blowing and in the snow filled woods there was not a sound. I found it hard to believe the deer had not smelled, heard, or seen me. After what seemed an eternity I had the rifle in position. Luckily the rifle was loaded but the safety was still on.
The click of the safety seemed unusually loud so I was not surprised when the deer looked up and directly at me. I had the rifle sighted before the click of the safety so I pulled the trigger a heart beat later. The crash of the rifle sounded so loud in the silence it was more like a cannon going off. The deer fell where it stood and did not move. The shot echoed off into the endless snow scene and then the silence returned.
I was rather stunned and a little surprised with my luck. I was always a good shot so that was not luck. It was the whole situation of shooting a deer while having my lunch that surprised me. I sat there quietly smiling in a smug way that I was later to regret.
The coffee was cold by now so I tossed it aside and poured a fresh cup. It was a big deer so I was going to have to cut it into sections after I dressed it, then make two or three trips back and forth to the car. It would be a busy time so I drank the coffee and packed away the remains of my meal.
I had removed my snowshoes while eating so it was a few moments before they were back on. With my pack on my back and rifle in hand, I start to head down to the deer. I was unable to travel directly to it because the rock between us was too steep. I headed east down a slope and then north to cross the small creek. When I got to the other side I found fresh deer tracks which I followed back west to where I shot the deer.
On the site of the kill all I found was a lot of disturbed snow and a few flecks of blood. I was very surprised to say the least. It had not been a clean kill. The deer had not only gotten back up, but headed east while I was putting on my snowshoes and floundering down hill. I was no longer smiling.
I do not believe in leaving wounded game to suffer and die a lingering death. I did not hesitate to turn around and start following the new tracks to the east. As I snowshoed along I noticed more flecks of blood so I knew the deer was injured. Because I was close behind the deer it was obvious that I was chasing it and that it would continue until I or the deer dropped. It made sense to stop and take the pressure off the deer. Maybe it would lay up somewhere and either bleed to death or stiffen up from the injury.
It was hard, but I forced myself to find a place to sit and then waited for twenty minutes while I drank the last of my coffee. The sun was well past the mid point in the sky so daylight was dwindling. The sky was darkening so it would be a dark night. I was not concerned about finding my way back to the vehicle as I had left a snowshoe trail a child could follow.
After my enforced twenty minute wait I found I was chilled and anxious to get back on the trail.
The snow was deeper down in the valley but I was stuck with following the deer no matter where it went.
It was an easy track to follow in the fresh deep snow. The drops of blood confirmed I was on the right track.
Within a half hour I came to the site where the deer last lay down. It was obvious from the marks in the snow and the blood that the deer was having trouble breathing. It had been shaking its head back and forth and the blood from its mouth was sprayed in a wide pattern. I assumed that it was a lung shot because of the bleeding from the mouth. Now I had to make some choices.
Because of the amount of blood, I judged it was a serious injury so I should continue my pursuit. Secondly, because my twenty minute break earlier had allowed the deer to lay down, I felt I should repeat it. Once again I sat for twenty minutes but the coffee was long gone. Soon I was walking around in circles trying to stay warm as the temperature was starting to drop. I was miles from the road and had not seen another living thing since taking the shot. The silence of the scene pressed down heavily all around me.
The scowl on my face was spreading as I started back on the trail to put the wounded deer out of its misery.
It was soon after that I started to notice that the trail led into a dense woods that was covered in deer tracks. I was in a winter deer park and the snow was packed down over a large area. At least a dozen deer had to be in the herd considering all the tracks. Tracking my deer went from easy to very difficult. It was a big buck so the larger track it left helped greatly, in addition to the odd speckle of blood. Read part 2 & 3.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)