A nine-hour stalk by author Bill Romanelli (right) and friend Kyle Carlisle resulted in a 280-yard shot on this young blacktail buck. Photo by Kyle Carlisle.

The young buck heard a whizzing/buzzing sound and at first, paid it no attention. The noise got louder and louder. Finally the buck stopped munching on the grass and looked up.

He saw nothing. But even as his ears started to perk up against his newer, bigger antlers -- he was a 3-pointer this year! -- the ground in front of his feet exploded, sending dirt and rocks into his eyes.

Instinctively, the deer jumped straight up into the air. His legs were pumping into a full run before his hooves hit the ground. A loud boom echoed around him as he began crashing blindly downhill, through branches and bushes and anything else in his path.

You've most likely seen it happen. In fact, odds are you've been the one who touched off an errant shot that sent an unscathed, otherwise healthy buck to flight. What do bucks learn from such incidents? The next time they hear the whizzing/buzzing sound of an approaching four-wheel-drive or all-terrain vehicle, how do they react? And where do they go? Just what do those big old gnarly bucks know that young bucks don't?

Fully acknowledging the Disney-esque pitfalls of anthropomorphism, let's step carefully into this scene and view it from the deer's perspective.

The young buck's heart raced as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He didn't know why, but his reaction to events he didn't understand was to flee from the area, to escape from whatever had made those noises.

In his frolicking younger days, when white spots graced his flanks and mere nubs had not yet grown into antlers that protruded above the hair on the top of his head, he'd heard stories of men with guns shooting at other bucks. But never before had it happened to him.

All attempts at grace and subtlety abandoned, he stumbled over a small rock but kept running. Finally, across the next canyon and most of the way up the next hill, he saw a thick overhang of branches almost surrounded by rocks. It looked like a great place to hide. He charged in through a small gap in the branches, stood stock-still within the shadows for several minutes, and then slowly dipped his head downward to peek out.

A deep voice from behind startled him. "You got lucky that time. You should be dead."

KING OF THE WOODS
The young buck whirled, prepared to flee once more. But his eyes had quickly adjusted to the dark and he was able to see who had addressed him. Lying in the back of the cover was the biggest buck he had ever seen. Thick, dark antlers projected out well past his ears and rose high above his head like a crown. Their tines forked off like lightning to five magnificent points on one side, four on the other. His face was stark white, but his eyes glared with a fierceness the young buck had never seen in another deer.

"And now you're trespassing," the old buck added.

Proud as he was at the first split in his own antlers a year earlier, and even prouder of his three points this fall, the young buck knew that challenging this bigger buck for this hiding place was out of the question. Instead he pleaded with the older buck to let him stay, saying that the hunters were certain to kill him if he left.