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Midday Magic

Midday Magic

Time For Some Midday Magic

Midday Magic At 1:45 p.m. I heard a twig snap behind me and turned slowly to see a beautiful, lone buck at about 80 yards, in no particular hurry but picking its way slowly through the brush, away from me. Time for action. Instantly I grabbed the grunt and gave a good loud BLAT. Nothing. In seconds I grunted again, a bit louder. This time the buck perked up and trained its ears toward me, yet still feigned indifference. It moved no closer…then turned and looked away! Hmmm.

BLAT! I grunted at him once again. Then 30 seconds later, again. Unbelievably, it took six- to eight grunts—with the buck nonchalantly standing there in place—before I could coax a meaningful reaction. And then, just like that, the buck committed. I’ll never forget its loud-and-clear body language: “Yeah, I really wasn’t planning on heading that way, but it sounds like a buck is grunting at something over there and chances are it’s a doe…”

The author's buck where it fell, in a cut soybean field just outside the wooded draw it was cruising for hot does.
The author’s buck where it fell, in a cut soybean field just outside the wooded draw it was cruising for hot does.

As it turned my way, the buck had to cross a steep, dry creekbed; as it dropped down it mostly disappeared but then popped back into view—on a steady mission toward me! It was then I knew the shot would happen. As the buck passed a large deadfall I slowly drew my bow—undetected—and waited. On he came, and with each step his thick rack and blocky, linebacker body grew still larger. When he reached 27 yards—broadside—I released and watched the mechanical-tippedCarbon Express arrow hit the moving buck solidly.

Later, some 200 yards from the shot site, I knelt beside a true Kansas monarch. Despite the fact the thick-necked battler had broken off two points and part of a third, my first glimpse of the tall, massive, basic 10-point rack still managed to steal every bit of my anxious breath. Glimpsing that gorgeous deer confirmed—yet again—what I’d known for several years running: Big rutty Kansas bucks are suckers for aggressive calling techniques. Click Here…

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