Hunt Lake Manitoba Narrows

Much later, after I had crossed the head of the canyon, I followed his slide mark to where he had stopped, a single small hole back of his shoulder.

Red Monical came down from the canyon rim, and we hung my deer in a tree before clambering out in gathering darkness. I wrapped the buck in my undershirt before leaving, so that the man scent would scare off varmints. We got back to Livingston, Montana, for the night, clawing through drifting snow with my four-wheel-drive.

That was along toward the middle of November, which is the time to kill a big mulie buck – but it’s a touchy time of year for back-in camping. You can have a real snow-in, freeze-up.

In Montana the general deer season usually opens around October 15 and ends around November 15. There’s a saying about mule-deer hunting:

“Go early for meat. Go late for racks.”

Season opening is the time to collect a prime doe or a butter-fat forkhorn for the locker. The best time to get the guy with the rocking-chair rack is during the rut, and that’s well into November. He won’t be so fat then, but he’ll be on the prowl – and that’s when you’ll see all the big heads you didn’t believe were around anymore. The peak of the rut is the time if you want a trophy.

I’m a chump for mule-deer hunting. My wife and I spend much of the fall in Montana, getting back to our Florida home early in December.

In the fall of 1962 I was having a ball looking them over. I looked them over during an early season on the Gallatin River drainage. Then, with time out for trout fishing, antelope hunting a fruitless trip after elk, I had settled down to steady mule-deer watching. I had seen hundreds, but the big bucks were hard to come by. They usually are. Just about season opening you see them around. Then, with the first few shots, they go back or up or both – anyway, they’re difficult to spot.

Several good heads I had sighted before season opening disappeared when the law went off. There was one monster over in Antelope Basin, south of Ennis. He looked big enough to pull a plow, carried an enormous set of antlers and seemed almost friendly – until the season opened. After that I never saw him.

Eugene Decker, who worked for the U.S. Forest Service out of Bozeman, Montana, had planned to go mule-deer hunting with me when the time was ripe. I had called him from Livingston about the third week in October. Gene wanted a symmetrical, typical rack for a mount.

“Don’t bother me about deer.” Gene said. “Let’s be scientific about this thing. We both know all the big ones will be out on the prod in a couple more weeks. Why knock ourselves out now? I’m going grouse hunting. Want to come along?

I knew he was right, but I kept on deer hunting. Ten days later, Gene checked in by phone.

“The time is ripening,” he said simply. “I expect to kill just the buck I want on a two-day hunt. I shall look them over for one day and then bust the big one and take him to the taxidermist.

“A game-biologist friend of mine says the peak of the rut will be during three or four days around next Saturday,” he added.

www.huntlakemanitobanarrows.com

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