A BUCK FOR BECKY By Becky Hempstead It all started with a telephone call. Ray Fincher called my husband, Gene, and asked if he would like to go deer hunting in old Mexico. Of course the answer was yes, but Gene said no. Gene told Ray that I was so sweet and wonderful that he could not run off half way across the world and leave me at home. Ray said, “Well, bring her along --- we need someone that can cook !” When Gene asked me if I would like to go, the first thing I said was, “I am NOT going to cook !!” Gene replied, “Of course not, Ray is a wonderful cook.” Ray is the president of a fire protection business in Birmingham, Alabama. I am the accounting controller for the Tax Collector in Tallahassee, Florida. Gene is a worthless, no account bum that fishes and hunts for a living. He calls himself a guide and a commercial fisherman. I could only get away from work for one week. Gene and Ray were going to Mexico ahead of me. I was to fly down and meet them latter. The hunt was for trophy white tail deer. Each hunter could only take one deer. Ray had cautioned me not to shoot the first buck that I saw. Bigger ones would come along for sure. Every thing went pretty much according to plan. Gene, Ray, and another friend, George Robbins of Florence, Alabama left a week before me. I flew to Laredo, Texas where Gene and Ray met me. We then bounced for two and one half hours by truck to the “secret spot” in old Mexico. I did not see any of the deer that were supposed to be everywhere. Up in time to be on the stand before daylight. No breakfast -- just coffee. Hurry, Hurry. The first deer I saw was a (page 2) nice eight point that had a huge neck. I put the video camera to work and took some real nice footage. Several other smaller bucks came by and a few does. Just before noon we went back to the camp house for breakfast. I was thrilled -- I did not have to cook. Another hunter, Jay Bramlett, from Cuero, Texas prepared a delicious breakfast. I took a quick nap while the other hunters lazed around camp for an hour and then -- back to the woods. The woods were really large bushes, mostly mesquite. There were no trees. Ray had built tripod stands that worked great. By just moving your feet , you had 360 degree visibility out of the tripod. I spent about one half of my trip in tripods and the other half in ground blinds the men had built. I was amazed at how many deer moved when the wind was howling at thirty miles per hour. Wind did not seem to bother deer movement. The first afternoon the big eight point came back to feed. I made more video’s. I named him “Ocho”. The Spanish word ocho means eight in English. The Ocho deer would go and presumably bed down for an hour; then he would return and feed for an hour. All in all I made over four hours of video on this one deer. Most of the footage was about thirty yards away. Just before dark a big ten pointer came in. The antlers spread well outside the ears. I started to shoot but remembering Ray’s advice, I decided that the tines were too short. I again put the video to work. Back at camp, after a delicious supper by Ray, I proudly showed my video footage. George almost flipped out over the eight point. He turned summersaults when he saw the ten point. “Why didn’t you shoot?”, George demanded. My answer, “I was waiting for a big one to come along.” George just shook his head and looked at the floor. (page 3) After several days the eight point vanished. In my mind I was “saving him” for a last day deer -- just in case the big one did not come along. Broken hearted I changed locations. The routine was pretty much the same each day. I saw a lot of deer, but nothing really big -- a lot of six and eight points. Nothing really wide and no real heavy mass. Ray and Jay did outstanding jobs each meal. To say the food was delicious would be doing those guys a terrible injustice! Each meal just got better and better. I never realized how great it is not to have to cook. The last day of the hunt rolled around. I was starting to feel BAD !! At noon I asked Gene to help me build a ground blind . I had picked out a spot that looked real good. I had a gut feeling that it would pay off. We made the blind to each of our satisfaction and went to camp to eat. We did not waste much time at camp, I wanted to hunt as much as possible. Besides the deer we had seen a lot of other game. Rabbits every where, blue quail, bob white quail as well as numerous coyotes and a good many javalina. Gene usually waited until after dark to pick me up off the stand. I asked him to come a little early as I could not clearly see to shoot that late. We arranged the pick up time and Gene dropped me off at my blind. After a looong afternoon of seeing no deer, I had decided I was jinxed in Mexico. The Mexican sunset was fantastically beautiful as I watched it for my last time on that trip. Suddenly two does appeared, then two more. I was engrossed watching the does when they lifted their heads and looked in a different direction. I turned my head and followed their glances. There HE was !! A magnificent buck running towards the does. (page 4) The does ran, the buck chased, my rifle sprang into action. A 165 gr. Nosler partioned hand loaded bullet from the barrel of my pre 64 model 70 Winchester 30/06 rifle was on it’s way as the cross hairs of my 3-9 Leupold found the bucks chest. Down he went but instantly was up and running again. A quick second shot and it was all over. I chambered another round and waited for five minutes before I went to him. Oh, I was excited and thankful. A large ten pointer during the last minutes of the last day !! He had long tines with good mass. What could be nicer? Where was Gene? I told him not to be late. Gene was making sure I got to hunt until I could not see. (Legal in Mexico) I was mad because he did not come to me at the prescribed time. I decided to make up a story for him as punishment. I had never lied to him before. Gene showed up just before dark. I started lying, “Oh, Gene, a little spike kept prancing around me, and this was the last day, and I just decided I was not going home empty handed, soo --- I shot him.” “What ?”, Gene replied. “He is right over there, help me load him up.”, I answered. As we approached the deer I squealed , “I can’t lie anymore --- it’s a TEN POINT !!!” Gene’s face beamed as he proudly looked the deer over and said, “Nice spike!” “I have sat in these stands so long. I have prayed and prayed for a good buck.”, I told Gene. He proceeded to explain to me that you should not pray for a deer. You should pray for the leaders of the world, and the sick, and needy people in the world. Gene summed it up, “You just do not pray for a big buck.” I pointed to the ten point and replied, “I DID.”
Posted on: Sun, 19 Jan 2014 02:59:09 +0000
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