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.
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"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 12:19..
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