THE MORNING AND BLIND NUMBER 6
By Jim Foster
This morning I hunted blind number 6.
There was a cold wind blowing and the protection of the box blind was seriously appreciated. The sun was scheduled to rise at 7:15. It was 6:30. I settled in, opened my pack, arranged my gear, loaded my rifle, poured a cup of hot West Texas coffee, and began the wait for dawn.
“Well, here I am again.” I thought. “Let’s see, I believe it was Paul Hope who killed a really good buck from this blind almost 20 years ago on a December hunt. And, if my mind isn’t failing we all returned to camp to one of Bud McDonald’s camp breakfasts and increased our combined cholesterol levels to far exceed the desired level.”
Sipping the hot brew I again strained my eyes trying to see the hills, but to no avail.
“The sun will come in it’s own time.” I laughingly reminded myself and leaned back to enjoy the coffee and wait for the light. My thoughts returned to hunts past and my hand went unconsciously to the knife on my belt. A custom blade crafted by Ray Shelton retired from the US Border Patrol then made custom hunting knives.
The owner of the Ranch whom shall be known as Gene has been our host for over a couple of decades. I have enjoyed his company and hospitality, Gene has the true qualities of a friend. He also eats pancakes with his eggs instead of toast.
Three gobblers caught my attention in the dim light as the moved through the brush to my left.
It is a fact many wild turkey have begun their trip to the roasting oven from this blind.
“Tonight,” I thought as the light increased, “I would hunt Paul’s blind in a small draw surrounded by cedar covered hills.”
Paul and I had hunted the stand known now as “Paul’s Blind” together many times. Calling in several gobblers on our spring trips to the ranch. We had spent hours in the little green box sometimes seeing lots of game while other times we shared quiet and silent companionship. This evening I would try to recapture shared moments with Paul, if only in spirit. But, now something caught my eye.
The animal moved quietly in the half-light in a manner that only expressed one thing - buck. A closer look through the binoculars caught enough light to confirm my identification. The spotting scope images were better and showed a mature whitetail buck. A short “grunt” call stopped him in his tracks.
Another closer look through the scope, this time at the 25-power setting. Yep, eight points, one with a broken tip, a flattened head, larger nose, and a bit of a belly, all spelled mature deer. After a pause the buck resumed walking. As he came closer another grunt stopped him for a quick look.
This time I was seeing him through the riflescope.
“How many times had I been in this position? Should I kill this buck? He had a very respectable eight points, he was mature, the safety snapped off and….”
A few minutes later I walked down to admire the fallen buck.
Here’s to old friends now gone, and memories of blind #6.
If you have comments or news for Jim Foster please e-mail him at: jim@jimfosteroutdoors.com
