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My first succesful deer hunt had a number of odd things happen to me. I was fourteen at the time and was useing my mothers pre 64 winchester 30/30. My dad had sent my mother and I to bird dog for him up this little draw. I was about fifteen feet in front of my mother and mad as ****. Here we were supposed to be hunting and she was beating the brush while I was tipy toeing as quiet as I could. I asked her to be quiet or else we would scare the deer up to where dad was. The next day dad set me down on a stump and said to watch the deer trail and he would try and jump one up to me, but he didn't tell me it would take thirty minutes to do so and my attention span lasted all of ten seconds. So I wondered off. That evening he showed me where a big five pointer that he spooked ran within ten feet of the stump I was supposed to sit on. Finally the next day I jumped a big four pointer, actually I almost stepped on him. I fired six rounds out of that 30/30 and heard every one go off. When the smoke cleared, the deer was gone and my dad was laughfing so hard he almost wet his pants. On the ground was six unspent cartriges the I had ejected thinking that I was shooting at that deer. He said that was the best case off buck fever he had ever wittnessed. The last day of the season I was able to get a little forked horn which seemed to erase all of the other problems I seemed to have had. And I've hunted ever since.
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