Around 9 AM I called a doe out of a thicket. She danced around for a few minutes then returned from whence she came.
Then this guy appeared. Shot through, behind the shoulders, his lungs were pulverized.
A good blood trail led a short way back into the thicket.
After I shot him a spike showed up. I shooed that little guy away.
My calling must have been convincing.
7 pointer (4X3), 16 inches wide.
Shot was at 65 yards with my hand load in a S&W 1006.
It is 155 grain XTP over Power Pistol powder, chronographed at 1450 fps.
"I am old, sick, and tired of living. If you feel the need to mess with me, go right ahead." My Uncle, with his hand on his pistol, talking to a troublemaker. 2-13-1935 -- 2-1-2013
Last edited by bustedknee; 11-24-2012 at 13:19..