Rattlin’ The Alders

By A. Sayward Lamb

A. Sayward Lamb is an outdoor writer and published author. He writes for U.S. Hunting Today and Maine Fishing Today.

 

Rattlin’ The Alders

This story happened during the last week of November, in 1992. It was a beautiful day, with a foot of snow to hunt on, and my son, Jim; son-in-law, Blane Morse; and myself, decided we would go down to Dead Man’s Curve, in West Paris, to see if we could find any deer. We were especially interested in finding the where-a-bouts of a big buck, who had been frequenting the area for the past ten days. His tracks were huge, so we assumed it was an older buck, in full rut, seeking out the several does that lived in that lowland area. It is made up of several small swamps, swale grass, alders, “puckerbrush”, and small knolls. They are covered with gray birch trees and junipers, along with mature hardwoods, a few evergreens, and some overgrown pastures, all of which provide excellent cover for deer. It was not an easy place to hunt; in fact a person hunting alone there doesn’t stand much of a chance of ever seeing a deer. It takes several people to get them moving out into the open; due to the many knolls, swampy areas, and heavy undergrowth. This morning the three of us were planning to do just that.

We hunted hard all morning for that buck, but never saw any of his fresh tracks, although we did see where the buck had roamed about during the snowstorm of the previous day.. It was very apparent he was bedded down some where in this area, and up until now, we hadn’t found that spot. By noontime there was only a thick cover of alders, between Moose Pond stream and Route 26, that we had not checked out. I tried to get one of those younger fellows to go into that “hell hole” of alders, to see if they could kick him out of his bed. Neither Jim, or Blane, wanted any part of going into that thicket, and no amount of urging on my part could get them to change their minds. I had such a strong feeling about that buck hiding there that I finally told them I would go look for him after lunch. For some reason or other, they agreed to this, so we all went back to my house to eat. After eating we took a brief rest, then drove back down to that area and resumed our hunting.

As promised, I headed into the thick cover, while Jim and Blaine took up positions where they could watch the meadow. They told me they both were very dubious of my judgment, and didn’t expect the “old man” would find any deer in those alders. Somehow, I had a “gut feeling” that I would be successful. I walked only about one hundred yards, into; over; under; and around those alders; when I heard the sound of horns rattling and striking against the alders. I caught a glimpse of that huge buck and a large doe, as they jumped up out of their beds and started running off! I tried to hurry, but it was impossible in that tangled mess of bushes. Soon I came upon the fresh beds in the snow. I continually heard the buck’s horns rattling, and slamming against the alders, even though he was a lot farther away. I could tell he was going a lot faster than I was. I only hoped those two deer would come out where one of those younger fellows would see them. Both deer were headed for a big open meadow; and I knew that once they reached the meadow, they would have to go about three hundred yards before reaching cover on the other side. I also realized there was no way I would ever get out into the meadow before the deer crossed the opening and fled out of sight, so I slowed down and continued to follow the fresh tracks. Soon I saw where the buck continued to head westerly towards the meadow, while the doe turned right and went off in a northerly direction. Naturally, I followed the buck’s tracks, because I wanted to be sure it went out into that meadow. Now I could only hope he would be intercepted along his route by Jim, or Blane. I noticed that I could not hear the horns hitting the alders, so I knew the buck had reached the meadow and moved out into the open. I wasn’t sure if he might be seen, but I certainly hoped so. I didn’t have to wait long to find out, because I heard a rifle shot, followed by another! After a short pause I heard two more shots. Soon this pattern was repeated a third time as I heard two more shots! It sure had me wondering what was happening, because those shots were not fired quickly. I would guess that a couple of minutes had passed from the time I heard those first two shots. until I heard the last two shots being fired.

I finally arrived to the meadow, and looked all around, hoping to see the buck. Instead all I saw was Jim, standing on a knoll, with his rifle down to his side. When he saw me he started walking my way. Soon we met along the buck’s tracks, where it had crossed the meadow. Jim was pretty excited, and at the same time dejected, because he told me the buck was about three hundred fifty yards from him when it ran across the meadow. He said his .30-.30 Winchester rifle would not reach the buck, at that long range. He said his rifle was sighted in for one hundred yards, so he kept shooting higher every time he fired his gun. He had no idea if the bullets was coming anywhere near to hitting the buck. He said the buck seemed confused as he was firing at it, because it would run a short distance, then stop and look all around, before starting to run again. We followed the tracks clear across the field and never saw any signs of blood, so we concluded he never did hit the deer. Jim was even more upset when he counted the ten points on that big bucks rack of horns, which he said were very huge, even ,and beautiful.

Jim also lamented the fact that we did not trade guns before I started out through the alders, because I was carrying my Savage .308, with a variable power 1.5 X 4.5 telescope sight. He felt if he had my gun, he would have had a much better chance of hitting it, especially at that long range. Then I reminded him if he had gone into the alders, I might have been the one who would have had the chance to shoot it. I don’t think he appreciated my comments. I did have to agree; his chances would have been much better with my rifle, but that was a mistake we made and it was too late now to do anything about it. I knew that wise old buck would be leaving the area after all that shooting, so we stayed in place and waited for Blane to show up.

After Blane arrived I told both of them I wanted to drive around to the other side of the follow the tracks on the other side Little Androscoggin river. They told me they both had enough hunting for that day, and wanted to go home. I took them back home, then headed for a big field and gravel pits located adjacent to the westerly side of the river. On the westerly side of the field were railroad tracks, and west of that were more woods that extended for three-fourths of a mile, to High Street, in West Paris. I parked my pick-up truck on the northern end of the big field, near the railroad tracks, then I walked down the tracks to see if I could find where the deer was headed. I had to walk about a quarter of a mile before I came upon the buck’s tracks. It had slowed down to a walk, so I still hoped I would be able to catch up to him. Perhaps he would bed down in some thick cover, as he headed towards High Street. After following the tracks for quite some distance, I noticed that cagey old buck would not travel through heavy cover. Instead, he walked through all the openings that it came to. Maybe he felt safer doing that, for some unknown reason. One thing for sure, this was not the usual pattern for an older buck to do. After tracking the buck for a couple of hours, I came out to High Street. In all this distance I did not find a single place where the buck stopped walking. It acted like it was headed for a predetermined spot, and did not linger along the way. Just before arriving at the highway, that buck walked up through a long field, and past a barn belonging to Kenny Poland. After it crossed the High Street road, it walked between two houses, before reaching the woods again. Apparently it knew where it was going and was headed directly for that destination. By now I was over a mile from my pick-up truck, and have to admit I was getting discouraged, because I hadn’t caught even a glimpse of that ten point buck. I didn’t want to give up, so I continued to follow the tracks towards the Porter Neighborhood. After another half hour I knew I had to quit following the tracks, because it was getting late in the day and I had a long ways to walk through the deep snow to get back to my vehicle.

I finally turned back and hurriedly retraced my steps. It was nearly dark by the time I got back to my pick-up truck. I was exhausted from hiking so far in the deep snow. Even though we did not get that nice buck, I had the satisfaction of knowing that we gave it our best try, but that was not good enough. There is no question, that ten point buck learned a lesson that day, because we never did find his tracks again at Dead Man’s Curve, during the rest of the deer hunting season, that fall.

A. Sayward Lamb