The other day, I moved a ladder stand to a big, white pine tree not far from a wild apple tree in my old pasture. The deer had been feeding there regularly as the apples fell to the ground. Last night before dark, I took my bow and headed out.
I didn’t expect too much as the wind was blowing quite steadily, but I didn’t care whether I took a deer. Actually, when the right fat doe comes in, I will fill my tag and freezer with venison. But there’s no hurry.
About 10 minutes had passed before a partridge wandered in through the underbrush. He pecked at some of the apples before spreading his wings and fluttering them. I’m not sure that’s the right term, but it seems to fit.
He didn’t drum his wings to attract other grouse, he just fluttered them a little and then went back to eating. I made a few clicking sounds and even squeaked like a mouse. He looked up once at me but really wasn’t concerned.
After a while, the little bird just wandered back into the scrub pines from where he had come. My entertainment was over.
It wasn’t long before I spotted a deer coming out of the swamp across the old, open field. She cautiously peered out of the brush. Then without hesitation, she stepped out into the open and headed in my direction. Almost instantly, a pair of twin fawns ran out behind her. They were still small and had recently lost their spots.
They ran and jumped, stretching their legs. I presumed that they had been bedded for most of the afternoon and just wanted to have some fun. It was almost as if they were playing tag like a couple of little kids. Mom kept on coming closer, heading for the apple tree. She seemed to have just one thing on her mind as she approached.