This is my funny story. Its about my cousin. This would be our second year hunting crab orchard down by carbondale il. I was 15 second hunt I have been on. Since I didn't have a foid card yet I had to shoot beside my grandpa. Shot my first buck opening day. My cousin the next day was set up on the ground right outside of a onion field. He fell asleep about dawn break and woke up around 11. the first thing he saw was a buck. he manages to hit this deer and breaks his spine. He takes two more shots misses them both. Me and my uncle got a call from my cousin dating he hour a deer but ran out of shells. So we take off twards his spot. My cousin is out by the road when we get there. He grabs my uncles gun and takes off to kill the deer. Me and my uncle get the kart to wheel the deer back to the truck once we get to the deer we realized that he managed to hit the deer from about 400 yards away with a 2 3/4 12 ga slug from a smooth bore barrel while sitting on the ground! Every time we talk about that shot we say had to of pointed his gun up in the sky.
Pity he had to die , but my job was to kill deer , but I did fell sorry for him ..I must say that my family ate a lot of venison in those days but that old stag was not fit for the table .. The farmer didn't eat venison and he just used to drag the carcases into a heap and burn them .. It was not unusual for me to kill 5 or 6 at a time and I often saw mobs of 20 to 30 , but tied up waiting for me only once ..
Many years ago on one of my first bow hunts, I decided to take a stand on the ground and watch a game trail not far away. It was a cool day and I am fully camouflaged head to toe, I sat on the ground and leaned back against a pine tree. Well, you know how it go's, I dozed off. I don't know how long I was asleep, but suddenly I felt something warm on my face, it was hot air, and as I opened my eyes, I am looking into two big brown eyes with a big black nose in between, needless to say, I rolled over throwing my bow and arrows in the air, at the same time a deer was falling back wards on her *** and scrambling to get footage. The doe had come up to smell me and she got so close to my face I could feel the hot air from her nose on the part of my face that was not covered. Man, if I was ever going to have a heart attack, that was a prime time. It scared the bejeezzzeus out of me and the deer.
Many years ago on one of my first bow hunts, I decided to take a stand on the ground and watch a game trail not far away. It was a cool day and I am fully camouflaged head to toe, I sat on the ground and leaned back against a pine tree. Well, you know how it go's, I dozed off. I don't know how long I was asleep, but suddenly I felt something warm on my face, it was hot air, and as I opened my eyes, I am looking into two big brown eyes with a big black nose in between, needless to say, I rolled over throwing my bow and arrows in the air, at the same time a deer was falling back wards on her *** and scrambling to get footage. The doe had come up to smell me and she got so close to my face I could feel the hot air from her nose on the part of my face that was not covered. Man, if I was ever going to have a heart attack, that was a prime time. It scared the bejeezzzeus out of me and the deer.
We have been to SD for pheasant hunting with our church group for several years. One guy named Charlie got everyones attention quickly by telling some of his whopper hunting tales, he was quickly coined the nickname 'dead eye'. According to his famous stories, he never missed, at any range! One year he brought up some some year old pointers that were from the 'best hunting stock this side of the Mississippi river', and was ready to turn them loose on the pheasants, no training needed of coarse. We begged him to keep them in the pen till we were sure they would hunt and obey, he was hard to convince, this was top of the line breeding and they were ready to go. Our guide said no and the rest of us asked to wait till we got back and see how they do around the fields by the house, he agreed. We went out for the hunt, he assisted in every kill and did not miss a bird. I was asked by the guide/farmer to no let him sit up front in the truck seat next to him. Once I missed my duty and Charlie grabbed shotgun, he went on to tell about how great Texas hunting was and his great shooting skills that killed many animals. Our guide was sick of TX stories and Charlie's whoppers, but they were funny. He to the guide his kill ratio for the last 4 years was about 85% of all the birds killed were by his gun, except last he was sure it was in the 90%+. We managed to get our limit and head back to the house for dinner. Charlie quickly went to check on his famous breed of pointers and turn them loose. I was watching with great curiosity, once he opened the pen, off to the races they went, straight down the dirt road, full speed!! Charlie called, hollered, whistled and cussed! He jumped in his truck and stomped the gas, and 2 hours later we see one of the dogs coming back following a combine! Charlie was able to get the other in the truck. Funny stuff!
Last year I took my daughter and son deer hunting, I told my daughter she could a deer 1st on youth hunting weekend and my son 2nd since she was the oldest. We pull up to my brother's house and we would walk down to my Cadillac stand. I was unloading gear and my son brought his sling shot for squirrels, I told gin to stand at the back of the truck and wait for me to get ready. We look up and see a young doe walking about 50 yds behind the truck, then we see mamma cross too! I still don't have any guns out yet as we just all stand there in awe. I finally get my hands on a gun case, I was getting ammo around and I hear a thunk! My son let a marble fly at the young deer. It just looked at the marble fall short and bounce. We made to the stand and shot at more squirrels with the sling shot. We did not see anymore deer that day. Good times tho!
I had recently got a new shotgun, and took it out pheasant hunting. I was walking this milo field when a pheasant comes up about 10-15 ft. in front of me. I got on the bird, fired, and split the bird into two pieces. When I got home that day I was thinking about why that happened, so while I was cleaning my gun I took out the choke I had hurriedly screwed in that morning. You can imagine how stupid I felt when I saw the word "FULL" on it.
Years back, hunting with an old LEO friend. We got out early to our new hunting spot I had picked. Figured we would sit in the cab of the truck for a couple of minutes, dig out the thermos, have a cup of coffee before starting out. I mentioned to partner this looked like a really good area for deer. Joking, he said "Bet there is not a buck within 5 miles of here."
WHUMP!
That was a six point buck running full tilt into partner's door. Now laying on the ground.
Partner looked at me, without a pause, said "But I could be wrong."
I was laying in bed at the fire station when i read this and it was hard for me to keep from waking up the other guys with my laughter. That's is awesome.
This is my funny story. Its about my cousin. This would be our second year hunting crab orchard down by carbondale il. I was 15 second hunt I have been on. Since I didn't have a foid card yet I had to shoot beside my grandpa. Shot my first buck opening day. My cousin the next day was set up on the ground right outside of a onion field. He fell asleep about dawn break and woke up around 11. the first thing he saw was a buck. he manages to hit this deer and breaks his spine. He takes two more shots misses them both. Me and my uncle got a call from my cousin dating he hour a deer but ran out of shells. So we take off twards his spot. My cousin is out by the road when we get there. He grabs my uncles gun and takes off to kill the deer. Me and my uncle get the kart to wheel the deer back to the truck once we get to the deer we realized that he managed to hit the deer from about 400 yards away with a 2 3/4 12 ga slug from a smooth bore barrel while sitting on the ground! Every time we talk about that shot we say had to of pointed his gun up in the sky.
I scouted the area all summer
I searched out the best location for my tree-stand
I set it all up a month ahead of time
I trailed the herd
I picked out a trophy buck
Two days before opening day I rechecked every aspect of the hunt
Everything was in place
Sunday morning, I woke up at 2 am
I put on my camo, loaded my pack, set out for my stand
This was destined to be an epic hunt
As I approached my deer stand
I changed my mind, and decided to go to church instead.
This story happened when I was a boy living on the farm and very early into my career of a hunter. When Dad first got the Remington Mdl 510 single shot he instructed me very well in the safety of hunting and gun handling. It was not until he was convinced that I was safe with a gun in the field that he allowed me to hunt alone.
So I was hunting and in those days you did not just go out to hunt one species you hunted anything that came along. We ate on what I brought home in my bag and Dad always announced at the table that we were eating well tonight because big brother was a good hunter and brought home meat. (you can be assured that things like that have a lot to do for a young 12 yrs olds confidence in himself.)
But then there are set backs....like this incident.
I was walking slowly in the snow along a creek bank looking carefully in every piece of brush and shrub for the outline of a rabbit ears or a dark spot that could be a pheasant fluffed up in a snow nest. The rabbits were thick on our farm and they had little runways in the snow along the creek banks that were so often used that they were, in places, 6" deep. I spotted the outline of a rabbit and stopped, slowly brought my .22 rifle up and shot. At the shot the rabbit just sat there. I waited for a while fully expecting him to fall over any minute. Nothing
So I reloaded another .22 short and shot again. Same results. Nothing. Puzzled, my only thought was I had to aim better before the rabbit got tired of me shooting at him and took off. So I got down in a good kneeling postion and took extremely careful aim and shot again, and again, and again, and again. This damn rabbit was bullet proof!! Finally I got to thinking. I bet my sights got bumped. I looked at the rear sight and it did look like the little elevator thingy was up one notch to many so I decided the shots had all been going high and this rabbit had more nerve than any rabbit I had ever seen, but his days were over. He just came up against his waterloo.
So I aimed just under where I figured his chest was, it was difficult to see the lower part of him because the path in the snow he was in, was so deep. At the shot he fell over. YEHH YEHHH YEHHH! I did it, I got that little varmit, he just waited to long to run. Ha Ha. So I jumped over the creek and climbed the bank and reached down to pick up the rabbit. That is when I noticed all the holes in the snow behind the rabbit. It seems the first shot had killed the rabbit and he did not fall over because the path in the snow was so deep that it supported him in the upright position. My last shot had dislodged the crusted snow that was holding him up. I had shot the poor little sob 13 times.
So what to do? Well, when I got home and Dad saw that I was almost out of cartridges and had nothing to show for it I would be in trouble deep. Also if I told him I had left a rabbit I shot out in the woods, again I would be breaking the rules about wasting food. So I picked the rabbit sieve up and trudged back to the house.
I gave the rabbit to my Dad and he held it up to see it leaking blood out of 26 holes. He looked at me with a look of amazement on his face and said (before I tell you what he said let me tell you my Dad was one of the nicest gentleman the world ever saw. He was not the type to scold me if he thought I did my best and he had a great sense of humor)
and Dad said looking at my holey rabbit. "Put up quite a fight didn't it?"
This is the first time I have ever told anyone about my 13 shot rabbit. Before this it was known only to me and my Dad. He never brought it up again nor teased me about it. The only mention he ever said about it was when I proudly showed him my GOLD Excellence in Competition medal that I won in the Army. The highest medal that a soldier can win and wear on his uniform. Only about 900 of these medals have ever been awarded since WWII. And that out of a quarter a million competitors. What Dad said was: "That is fine son, I am proud of you, good thing it wasn't a rabbit you were shooting at."
Sarge the 13 shot rabbit hunter.
wilst out hunting rabbits one night, i kept hearing this peeping noise, it was a mink, following the blood trail that was hanging on my belt from the rabbits that I had killed.......The mink brought 20 dollars at the fur buyers.... This thing was evidently caught in a trap, it only had three legs............
That's a great story! Made me wonder if it was the basis for your choice of a signature line...
I can't come close to topping any of these yarns, but here are a couple of quick ones:
I used to hunt squirrels with my brother a lot. In one place we hunted regularly the late summer foliage was so heavy that we sometimes used shotguns instead of .22's--my nice little side-by-side 20 and his 12 gauge Ithaca 37. One day he shot a squirrel out of the top of a pignut hickory with a high-brass load of #6 shot, and as it fell it lodged in a fork. We couldn't reach it by climbing and couldn't shake it out of the fork, so he shot it again. And again. And again. SIX ROUNDS of high-brass sixes. It finally fell out of the tree and I picked it up. Ever see a wool sock full of raspberry Jell-O?
Another day I was hunting with the same 20 gauge double, hadn't seen a squirrel all morning, and went back to my car for a cup of coffee. Unloaded the side-by-side and laid it across the hood of the vehicle. As I was pouring my coffee, the tree I'd parked under exploded with squirrels! I grabbed the twenty, fumbled for a couple of shells, and suddenly realized I was trying to load the right barrel with a roll of Tums. By the time I stopped laughing, the squirrels had left to go tell their buddies a funny story about the idiot hunter they had ambushed.
I was walking back from a morning turkey hunt when I saw a coyote about 350 yards away. I had my 223 in hand and snuck up on 'em to about 120. I helped a couple barks to stopping him dead in his tracks, settled the sites and- click! Firing pin struck the primer sending the bullet about 2 inches down the barrel where it stayed. Coyote ran off into the woods with his life...
I was bowhunting in a tree on some public land one afternoon. Didn't see anything and was getting dark so I started walking back to meet my friend at his blind to go to the truck. I was on this levee type deal and on each side of it the ground dropped about 8 feet. On my right was a bunch of tall bone dry grass. Hogs were overpopulated in this area so my nerves were a little on edge walking alone with only a bow. I started hearing loud footsteps to the right where it drops off. They were so ded gum loud I thought it was a deer. I drew back and waited for it to show itself. Minutes passed and still just footsteps. I could hear my heart beating it was so fast. I started picking up rocks and chunking them at whatever was there, but never spooked it. I drew back again and sprinted 3 yards to the edge of the dry grass screaming my head off. Then I saw the animal!!
Freakin armadillos...
One of my uncles did this to the bed of his old Ram Charger pick up.
Visting his place a couple of years back, I'm leaning on one side of the truck and he's leaning on the other when I notice what appears to be a .30 Cal hole in the folded over metal at the top of the box.
So I said... "you sight in you 30-06 this year?"
He's says... "kiss my ***"...
Last year he had his son, my cousin, pull a few dent's and repaint that old Dodge... I made sure my cousin "left the bullet hole"!
This isn't my story, But I thought it was Funny. Its the Story of a Friend's Grandson's first Kill.
My Friends Grandson Denny. Went hunting for his first time, For his first Kill he wanted to get a buck so he could mount it. They Head out to their stand and sit all day. No deer. They walk back to their truck and Denny saw a 8 point. So he Grabs his 30-06 and Lays on the Trucks hood, Lines up his scope and Pulls off a PERFECT SHOT! But No deer fall, No Blood. When they get back to their Truck, Denny figures out what he killed. He calls to his dad to come see. His First Kill was.... The ENGINE BLOCK of their truck!
My friend said He told his Grandson to Mount that Hood In the Oak tree of their front yard.
My Brother and I split up during buck season. I placed myself in a comfortable, sheltered area out of the wind along the edge of the woods, where I had a good long view of the field and a nearby game trail. I settled down for a long wait, anxious to be the one to bring home a nice trophy along with some tasty venison. I was about 17 years old, and had never bagged so much as a rabbit. I must have been really daydreaming and lost track of time. I had been out there for hours and scarcely moved. Sipping hot coffee from my thermos all morning, I really had to go. I rested my gun safely against the tree and went back into the woods a ways to take a leak. No sooner than I started to relieve myself, than a nice six point buck darted past me on it's way to the very game trail I had been watching all morning.
I could only stand there and watch. I knew my brother would never believe me anyway, so back to my spot I went. I pulled out my lunch bag and ate my lunch. Well, that buck must have been spooked by something else, because back down the trail he came, and there I sat with both hands on a bologna and cheese sandwich. I gave up at that point. Needless to say, I did not get a buck that year. And I was right, my brother did not believe me.
My dad took my younger sister bow hunting one time at a nice little block we had set up. She was about 12 or so....they got to the spot to sit and my dad had told her to put her mask down and sit still and that when she realized she had dripped it walking in....so my dad put down his bow and told her to sit quietly and he'd be right back and started walling back to get it. When he got back to her she told him that a group of deer had walked right past her and didn't even know she was there bc she was so still and quiet... Dad was not happy.
I was deer hunting one evening and I see a big groundhog 75 yards in front of me. I raise my rifle up to pop him and when I pulled the trigger, my .41 mag Marlin went "ping!". I looked down and I FORGOT TO TAKE THE SAFETY OFF! he did his equivalent to flipping me off and hauled a$$ back to his hole before I could try again.
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