The first morning we went out, it did not take long before we spotted a sika deer out in the middle of a large oat field, about 350 meters away. We stopped and assessed the wind direction before we planned our stalk to get closer and hopefully get a shot. We went all the way around the large field to enter from the right side according to the wind.
The last 100 meters we approached on our stomachs. When we finally got into the right shooting distance, I stood up and the deer came directly towards me and, because he was about 30 meters away, my only chance to shoot him was if he turned his side to me – BANG – he did and he fell right away.
The next morning we went to a really nice spot with a view that you don’t even dare dream about where we sat and enjoyed the sunrise. We could see several different roes but no bucks so we headed into the woods to continue our search, trying to call a buck out several times in different places.
“I didn’t think I’d missed him, but I must have. But then there he lay, stone dead, with a perfect heart bullet.”
In the end we tried the opposite end of the forest, in an old clearing that had become very thick with vegetation. We climbed up in the stand and within 10 seconds, out of nowhere, a buck was stood just below us.
Unfortunately, he sensed us and disappeared back into the woods. We tried to call him back but he’d only came a little way out before he could sense something was wrong. He disappeared back into the woods again, so we called again and back he came, but with the same results – back into the woods.
Then, to our luck, out into the middle of the clearing came a roe with a baby. Eventually they drew the buck back out again. He paused for a second and I shot.
We went down to look at the shooting place but there was nothing! No blood, no hair, no animal. I must have missed him. I didn’t think I had, but I must have done.
We tried to follow the route that the buck was running over and suddenly, 50 meters from the shooting place we found a drop of blood. We followed the trail and after 50 more meters there he lay, stone dead, with a perfect heart bullet.
The last day we had to try to shoot a muntjac, which is a funny animal, like a small roe deer with fangs.
This time, we went to another forest, found a lovely place and started calling. I was taught on this trip that it’s important to call in several different directions with different tones, otherwise your calls will seem unreal to the other animals. This is especially true for a muntjac as this animal never stands still, it is always moving!
After trying to call three different places I succeeded. A fine muntjac buck and a happy hunter!