Pennsylvania Game News - June 2021 - 9

" Can I shoot it? " Noah immediately
inquired.
" Let's let it come a bit closer, " I
advised.
Minutes melted toward an eternal
memory as the deer finally worked within
the 30-yard mark.
My posture must have changed
because Noah picked up my subtle switch
in attitude.
" Can I shoot now? " he grinned, already
predicting my response.
Immediately after receiving my blessing, a boy on his first hunt shot his first
ever. As it dissolved into the wall of
woods, my son settled, and I showed
him how a hunter must give a deer ample
time to ensure a speedy and successful
recovery.
In time, we made it to ground level. At
first, Noah hesitantly walked in tow, his
steps cautious and measured, following
his father's footsteps. Then, alongside the
spoor of a good hit, a transformation took
place as Noah took the lead, he pursued
the tracks laid by his quarry.
Though the trail was as straight as his
bolt, I remained impressed how well my
rookie navigated it.
The instant the antlerless deer came
into view, Noah crouched down and
swung out his arms, cautioning the deer,
" I know karate! "
I looked down to my Karate Kid and
chuckled, " You do? "
My son threw me a serious, contemplative look as he whispered from the
corner of his mouth, " The deer doesn't
know for sure. "
All kidding aside, the 12 or more
additional archery hunts Noah would put
in that season, in pursuit of a buck that
JUNE 2021	

never came, told me he'd be awaiting his
favorite month once again the coming
year, and we'd be back out there.

T

HE SECOND SATURDAY of the
firearms deer season, and antlerless hunting, enticed Dad and me
to the big woods. The timbered vastness
offers deer infinite escape routes. More
often than not, our planned deer drives
prove unsuccessful. Still, we try.
" Follow the creek to its confluence.
Cross it and hike up the bench where you
have a good view, " my father ordered, like
he had hundreds of times in more than 25
years of hunting with his son.
" Sounds good! " I delighted, eager to
be posting on a drive he put on.
Walking uphill through ferns, I keyed
in on a patch of hemlocks. Hiding within
their steep shade offered a view of the
creek as clear as its babbling cold water.
As I settled and started to cool from my
march, I noticed the contrast of rich grays
and browns atop the pure white snow.
I watched the mature doe effortlessly
descend the mountain and ford the stream.
Now scaling the opposite side, I waited
patiently for her pause.
My shot rang out, summoning a father
to check on his son.
Aside from Dad and me, only the
mountain heard our muted footfalls deep
within the white woods. The snow eased
the work considerably.
What I recall most during those brief
breaks to catch breath was not the deer. It
was the order of things.
The tracks of a son were not in front of
his father, nor were they lagging behind.
The footsteps of the father and son
were side by side.
9
Pennsylvania Game News - June 2021

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