Be sure to catch up on Part 1 and Part 2.
The woods around us were completely silent and still.
I avoided looking at the ground as much as I could while also scanning for any movement among the trees. The chilly October air was heavy with the colors of fall. Every sound was magnified in the stillness around us.
The tree stand was probably meant for one person to sit comfortably, but Court, my boyfriend, and I had to cuddle up close to fit. I didn’t really mind that part, honestly…
Every once in awhile, I would hear steps through the crispy leaves littering the ground. My heart would start to race, and I would tighten my grip on my rifle.
The steps would get closer… and closer… until they were right below us… and…
It was a squirrel.
To this day, I am amazed how a tiny squirrel can sound like a deer barreling through the woods.
Several squirrels later, the sun was starting to crawl towards the horizon. The familiar feeling of will we or won’t we began to set in; by now, I had accompanied Court on many bow hunts and learned that just because you’re hunting doesn’t mean you’ll see anything. This would be a lesson I learned even more when we moved to Texas.
We could still hunt at the shop if it didn’t happen this weekend, but there was a greater chance at a doe here in the woods. Our friend that owned the place only went out a few times a year, so the deer were mostly undisturbed, unlike the shop deer.
He had seen a lot of does passing through the area on trail cameras and felt confident that one of them would visit us this weekend.
Sure enough, I heard another squirrel barreling through the forest again. Except… this time, it sounded different… maybe a little quieter…
From our right, two large mature does wandered under the tree stand with a yearling straggling behind. My heart pounded harder than ever as Court helped me shift the rifle into a shooting position.
Every part of me shook; my hands, arms, shoulders, legs, ankles, feet, even my jaw shook. I fought to inhale any oxygen, to get my lungs to breathe. I just knew that those deer could hear my body malfunctioning as I attempted to calm myself.
I angled the rifle down towards the ground and saw only leaves. I kept angling it down, down, down… no use. The deer were so close to the tree that I couldn’t aim and rest the rifle on the tree stand.
“Can you see them in the scope?” Court whispered.
I gulped. “No, they’re too close, all I see is leaves…”
Court carefully put an arm around my waist and hoisted me up onto his lap so I could angle the gun further down. Suddenly, the scope was filled with brown fur. “Can you see them now?“ I was so breathless that I’m amazed he even heard my yes.
“Aim for the biggest one, the one in the middle.” I carefully shifted the scope to figure out which one was I was already looking at. Okay, move to the right, and there’s another one… move a little further, and there’s the yearling. Alright, swing it back to the first one.
I got the first doe back into my sites, but now she was quartering towards me. “Wait until she’s completely broadside…” I took the moment to attempt to control my breathing; it almost worked. Slowly, so slowly, she turned to face the other two deer.
“Whenever you’re ready, take the shot.”
I settled the crosshairs onto her shoulder, but with each squeeze of my lungs, the crosshairs jerked in a thousand different directions. I desperately sought the calm sensation that I felt immediately after stepping onto stage, the moment of no turning back. No matter how afraid you are, the moment you take that first step, you’ve accepted what comes next. There’s a peace in that moment, if only I could find it.
Somewhere in the periphery, Court was whispering encouragement again as the seconds ticked by. The doe stood completely still from the neck down as she munched peacefully on corn. It was now or never.
I forced the oxygen from my lungs and felt that moment of stillness at the very end of a deep exhale. My finger slowly squeezed the trigger in an achingly slow movement. I began to wonder if the rifle would go off at all, maybe…
BOOM!
I didn’t even recognize that the gun had gone off for a moment. I sat staring into the kicked up leaves through my scope where the doe had been as hell broke loose beneath us. The other two deer sped through the trees until they vanished.
My ears rang and my body shook violently as I slowly took note of what was happening around me. Court was congratulating me as he took the rifle from my hands, discharging the brass and pocketing it before putting the safety back on.
I felt dazed, as if the adrenaline in my body had taken my consciousness with it when it finally left. I barely remember following Court along a visible blood trail past a few trees and to the top of a hill.
At some point, I became vaguely aware that I was speaking; “did I make a good shot? Did I actually shoot her?” My supportive and loving mentor was smiling, reassuring me that it was a great hit.
Sure enough, she had just crested the hill not 100 yards from our tree stand when it ended for her. Looking back as an experienced hunter, I know it was as humane a shot as I could’ve hoped for.
Seeing the doe on the ground froze me in my tracks. Court wandered down a little ways to get to her, calling out some warnings of slick ground or rocks so I wouldn’t fall trying to follow. When I finally sunk to the ground next to her, I was filled with so many emotions that it’s hard to really articulate how I felt.
Shock. Accomplishment. Sorrow. Uncertainty. Fear. Compassion. Wonder. Guilt. I rested a tentative hand on the smooth fur.
I had taken a life. And I didn’t know how I felt about it.
The entire way home and into the night, I struggled to articulate for myself what I was feeling. Watching Court and our friend quarter out the deer for more processing the next day had confused me even more. If you’ve never seen an animal butchered for meat before, it can be pretty unsettling the first time.
I felt good about trying something new and for making it as quick for the doe as possible. I also felt guilty and unsure of even doing it in the first place, though. After learning from Court, I understood why he hunts; not to kill, but to be outdoors and to enjoy the sustenance that comes from the animals he harvests. But why should I hunt if he can do that? Why should I kill an animal?
Court must have sensed my uncertainty. I woke the next morning to the most heavenly smell wafting through the apartment from the kitchen. I trudged through the chilly hallway towards the delicious smell of spices and cooking eggs until I found him in the kitchen, already working on breakfast.
He smiled. “I’m making you a very special breakfast today.” I smiled and settled down on the couch, clicking through the channels for something to watch.
He handed me a plate of delicately scrambled eggs and small, red meat cutlets carefully seasoned and cooked up in butter. It smelled amazing. I sliced into the cutlet with a small bite of egg and took a bite.
Oh. My. Goodness.
I didn’t know what kind of steak this was after a quick taste, but it was so tender and flavorful. “Do you like it?” He asked with a sneaky smile.
“It’s so good!” I dug in a little faster.
“Good.” He pointed to the steak. “That is a tenderloin from your doe.”
I paused thoughtfully. “This is from the doe I… the doe I shot yesterday?” A new feeling was welling up inside of me as I considered what was happening; pride.
How many times had we eaten some kind of wild game and Court could remember the exact animal and hunting experience that it had come from? And now, as I ate the meat on my plate, I felt a spur of pride knowing that I had made this meal possible. Through my hard work and patience, this breakfast had happened.
What if the real reason that some people hunt is to do exactly this? To put good, healthy, all natural food on the table for the people they care about? To provide? I had never felt this way about anything before, and being able to provide for someone that I love felt good.
When I first considered the possibility of hunting, killing was the part I thought about the most. At that time, “hunting” was almost synonymous with “killing” in my mind. After that first experience, though, I’ve realized that hunting is something so much more.
You have to learn about and respect the animals that you’re hunting. You have to train and practice to be able to make an ethical lethal shot. And even when you finally see them, they may not even give you the chance to take a shot. But when the opportunity arrives, you have to do everything in your power to make the best shot that you can. The real work and reward begins after the shot, though. Processing the animal takes time and effort that you can almost taste when you finally get to enjoy the fruits of your labor with friends and family.
As I munched on my venison tenderloin that morning, I truly realized that hunting is about working with Mother Nature to provide for the people you love most.
Jess and the Outdoors 