Tag Archives: White-tailed Deer

My Opinion (For What It's Worth), Through A Hunter's Eyes

Like Father, Like Son

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Born To Hunt…

 

Bowhunting For Deer. By H. R. Dutch Wambold, The Stackpole Company, 1964. Jacket endorsement blurb by Howard Hill; Preface by Fred Bear. A Classic Book On Hunting The White-tailed Deer. From The Collection of Michael Patrick McCarty, Publisher of Through a Hunter's Eyes
Bring On the Deer

 

Veteran’s Day, Any Year

 

It has been said that hunter’s are born, not made, and perhaps this is true. Far be it for me, to disagree.

Hunter’s eyes are born of blood, and I, like my father, and his father before him, would seem to prove that out. Well-worn deer trails, mist-filled bogs, and oceans of pitch pines and blackjack oaks were always a large part of our daily landscapes. I cannot help but think that we were all so much better off for our youthful visions.

Just below is a long forgotten photo of my Dad’s first white-tailed deer, taken with a hand-me-down shotgun in the Pine Barrens of southern New Jersey. As you can see, it was a good one too. He was sixteen years old.

I never did hear the story of that first buck, but I have no doubt that it was a big adventure of some kind. Or at least I would like to think so, knowing my father’s penchant for getting the job done. South Jersey was still a wild place in the 1930’s, and a boy could really stretch out and do some roaming. I surely would have loved to have explored it all back then.

Below that is a photograph of my first big game kill with a bow & arrow, taken not very far away from where my father stood for his photo.  I was also sixteen at the time, and I could not have been more excited, and proud.

The doe may have been small, and the picture is now tattered, and faded, but the memory is not. I remember everything about that hunt as if it was yesterday, and it remains a thrill that has not nearly begun to wear off after all of these many years.

There are far worse things in life, than to be born a hunter…

Good Memories!

 

A vintage hunting photograph of a Teen-Aged Boy Carrying a Buck White-tailed Deer Over His Shoulder Which He Harvested With a Shotgun in the Late 1930's in Southern New Jersey. The deer hunter is Mark A. McCarty Sr. From The Collection of Michael Patrick McCarty
Mark A. McCarty Sr. With His First Whitetail Buck. Circa 1939

 

A Teen-Aged Boy and a White-tailed Doe, Taken with a Bow & Arrow in the Mid-1970's in Southern New Jersey. From The Collection of Michael Patrick McCarty
Michael Patrick McCarty With His First Bow Kill Whitetail. Circa 1974

 

*My father became an avid bowhunter in the 1950’s, and I am sure that he would have hunted his first deer with archery tackle, if he could have. New Jersey did not hold its first special bow & arrow deer season until 1948, only ten years before I was born.

 

See Some of the History Of The New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife Here

 

By Michael Patrick McCarty

 

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A Vintage Hunting Photograph of Mark A. McCarty Sr. With a Harvest of Several white-tailed deer Bucks, Taken During Shotgun Season in Southern New Jersey in the 1930's. From the Collection of Michael Patrick McCarty, Publisher of Through A Hunter's Eyes

 

“A Bowhunter is a Hunter Reborn – Forever…” – Michael Patrick McCarty

“There is much mystic nonsense written about hunting but it is something that is much older than religion. Some are hunters and some are not.” – Ernest Hemingway, An African Journal, 1972

 

– Bowhunting For Deer by H. R. “Dutch” Wambold, Stackpole, 1964,  remains a timeless classic on the subject of hunting for white-tailed deer, and I have always thoroughly enjoyed the read. So did Howard Hill, apparently, judging by the jacket endorsement blurb, and by Fred Bear, who wrote the preface. If it was good enough for them, than it is certainly good enough for me, you might say.

We generally have a copy in our used and rare book inventory, if so interested. Please email us at huntbook1@gmail.com for details.

 

 

A vintage hunting photograph of Mark A. McCarty Sr. from southern New Jersey, circa 1953, holding shotgun. Location unknown

In Memoriam

For Mark A. McCarty Sr.,

United States Army Airborne Ranger

Who Fought and Bled, for Us, in World War II

May You Find Good Trails to Follow

 

 

A Silk Commemorative Scarf, Cut From My Father's Parachute and Custom Sewn in Europe After His Last Jump in World War II. It Includes Patches of The 504th and 507th Parachute Infantry Divisions. Photograph By Michael Patrick McCarty
A Silk Commemorative Scarf, Cut From My Father’s Parachute and Custom Sewn in Europe After His Last Battle Jump in World War II.

 

A Custom Sewn Silk Commemorative Scarf, Cut From a Parachute, Showing The Parachutist’s Badge and Paratrooper Glider Patch
The Parachutist’s Badge and Airborne Paratrooper Glider Patch

 

"Thunder From Heaven" - The Airborne and Special Operations Patch of the 17th Airborne Division, Which Was Over the 507th Parachute Regiment During World War II
“Thunder From Heaven” – The Airborne and Special Operations Patch of The 17th Airborne Division

 

The "All-American" 82nd Airborne Division Patch, Earned While Serving With the 504th Parachute Infantry During World War II
An Airborne and Special Operations Patch From The “All-American” 82nd Airborne Division

 

Ethics and The Sportsman, Through A Hunter's Eyes, Trophy Gallery

The Gift – A Young Deer Hunter Joins Up

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“Something is only given in nature, never taken.” – Richard Nelson, The Island Within

 

 

A Trophy White-tailed Deer Leaving A Field, And Like Most Whitetail Bucks, Never Very Far From The Safety Of Brush And Cover.
No Sound. No Mind. No Time

READY OR NOT

 

The young whitetail buck bounds proudly into the field of newly planted winter wheat and stops, and I know that I must remember to take a breath. Just moments before it had magically appeared from the heavy shadows at field’s edge. I saw first its jet black nose, then it’s eyes, followed by searching ears, and horns.

For some mysterious reason I had been staring intently at this very spot amidst the tangle of heavy vines, the bright green leaves of sassafras trees, and the yellow of remnant persimmon fruit hung on bare branches. It is as if I already knew, somehow, that I would see a deer this morning, and was simply waiting for its arrival. It’s a huge moment when you are thirteen. Why it’s as big as the world.

Just before daylight I had wedged myself into the crotch of an old, dead tree on the more open side of a small, protected field. It was more than cold with a biting, mid November wind, but the tree was big, protecting, with thick, comforting limbs radiating from its base. It was like a fort, and it was great fun just to sit there, hidden, listening.

Morning in the eastern deer woods has a rhythm and cadence all its own. Once heard, it remains indelibly recorded on the heartbeat of your mind  I can still hear the stirrings of squirrels and small creatures in the dry leaves and forest duff below, the twittering birds, the scornful proclamations of Blue Jays and wandering crows above. I miss it so.

 

A Gray Squirrel Noses Around The Leaves And Pine Needles and Forest Duff For Food; A Common Sight For White-Tailed Deer Hunters Across America
Now Where Did I Put That?

I remember feeling that the buck knew I was there, would be there…watching. Perhaps he had seen a small, slow movement from me, or perhaps he just, …knew. Will he come? Even If he suspects nothing there is little reason for him to continue across an open field on a bright, sunny morning during gun season, with plenty of heavy cover in the trees of the wood lot behind and around him.

I wait. The buck hesitates for a brief time, an eternity, and then trots calmly and purposely along the edge of the trees towards me. I am paralyzed. Though mostly ready, I’ve not yet had time to assess the situation or remember my role in it. My feet are only about six feet from the ground, and I know that he will see me and swap ends quickly if I move too fast. Still, I feel that he knows I’m there and can not change his course, and can somehow see himself moving, thru my eyes, as he crosses in front of my stand.

It’s now or never, and in one motion I come from behind his track and start to swing my shotgun bead towards his shoulder. He stops as if on command, as if this is his part in the choreography of a primordial dance, and this is the selected spot to place his feet. His body is perfectly broadside, with his head turned towards me and up, his nose shining in the sky.

There is no sound, no mind, no time, just our breath frozen in the air as I settle behind the gun. He waits patiently, gracefully, and completely at peace with what is about to come his way. Both parties share something all-knowing yet incomprehensible, without judgement. It is agreed. We have done this before and may do so again, god willing.

I don’t remember pulling the trigger, yet It ends as it must if you are a hunter. A life taken. I am too young to comprehend the full meaning of the act, yet somehow I know there is something more. It is an end, perhaps a beginning, I do not know. The circle complete, we are bonded. It is a gift of the deer and it is sacred.

I pray I will not forget, both then, and now.

“No Sound. No Mind. No Time…A Hunter’s Mind” – Michael Patrick McCarty

A Vintage photograph of a Young Boy Hunting Near a Woodpile
Wait Long Enough And They Will Come

 

*Few moments in my hunting life have held more importance, my first whitetail buck – a sleek 6 pointer. It was 1971, and I was Thirteen. A hunter, I am.

 

A Vintage Photograph Of A Taxidermy Mount Of A Young Buck White-tailed Deer, Taken In Maryland With a Shotgun Slug In the Early 1970's. Photograph By Michael Patrick McCarty
A Boy’s Best Memory

By Michael Patrick McCarty

 

“As I reflect on the experiences of yesterday and today, I find an important lesson in them, viewed in the light of wisdom taken from the earth and shaped by generations of elders. Two deer came and gave choices to me. One deer I took and we will now share a single body. The other deer I touched and we will now share the moment. These events could be seen as opposites, but perhaps they are identical. Both are founded on the same principles, the same relationship, the same reciprocity. Both are the same kind of gift…Something is only given in nature, never taken.” – Richard Nelson, The Island Within, 1989

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Ethics and The Sportsman, In The News: Sportsmen & Wildlife On The Front Lines, Natural History & Conservation

Ted Nugent Blasts Michigan DNR As ‘Stupid’ Over Deer, Elk Baiting Ban

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The Front Cover For The Book God, Guns, & Rock N' Roll By Hunter, Bowhunter, and Famous Musician Ted Nugent.

 

, The Detroit News Published 10:22 a.m. ET Sept. 17, 2019 | Updated 2:14 p.m. ET Sept. 17, 2019

Conservative rocker Ted Nugent targeted Michigan conservation authorities Tuesday, calling state officials either “liars” or “stupid” for supporting a ban on baiting deer and elk.

“If they think they can stop deer from swapping spit, they’re idiots,” Nugent said during a House Government Operations Committee meeting.

Nugent, whom GOP lawmakers referred to as “Uncle Ted,” testified in support of a bill that would legalize deer and elk baiting during hunting seasons. The bill introduced by Rep. Michele Hoitenga, R-Manton, would reverse a 2018 ban that was put in place to address concerns that chronic wasting disease was spread through bait piles. It’s not clear the science used to push that ban is reliable, Hoitenga said.

You Can Read The Full Article Here

Art, Antiques & Sporting Collectibles, Through A Hunter's Eyes

Hound And Hunter By Winslow Homer

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“Winslow Homer was an American painter, illustrator and etcher, one of the two most admired American late 19th-century artists and is considered to be the greatest pictorial poet of outdoor life in the United States and its greatest watercolorist”. – From  Winslow Homer: 216 Colour Plates, by Maria Peitcheva

 

 

Hound And Hunter, Oil On Canvas, 1892. By Winslow Homer. A Scene Inspired by The Adirondack Region of Upstate New York
On The Trail Of Adventure

 

“The place suits me as if it was made for me by a kind of providence.” – Winslow Homer, Speaking of his love for Quebec

 

Things are definitely going to happen when you put a boy, a dog, and a deer together, somewhere in the waters of the Adirondack Wilds, and no doubt that there is more to the story behind the makings of this scene.  After all, what could go possibly go wrong?

Few artists have ever been able to capture the mood and nuance of a sporting moment like Winslow Homer. His “Hound and Hunter”, completed in 1892,  is certainly a wonderful example of the master’s art. One look, and I am transported to a time gone by, drawn to and within it like a bloodhound to a hot scent.

Like so many great paintings, it begs more questions than it answers, and I for one want to know more. So much more. No doubt you have some questions of your own.

It has been one of my very favorite Homer paintings for many years, and it was one of the very first header images that I ever used to help illustrate Through A Hunter’s Eyes. Apparently I have a good eye, for as it turns out, it may have been Homer’s favorite work too!

Enjoy, wonder, and hunt!

 

By Michael Patrick McCarty

 

“There’s no such thing as too many paintings and prints. Or bronzes of Labradors and pointers and Brittanies and setters. Or glasses with pintails and canvasbacks and salmon and trout flies. Or pictures of you and Charlie with Old Duke and a limit of bobwhites, or a pair of muleys, or a half dozen Canadas, or about a yard of rainbows. Or old decoys and duck calls. There are never too many memories of days past or too many dreams of good times to come”. – Gene Hill, from A Listening Walk, 1995

 

*”Hound And Hunter” did produce some controversy at the time of its release to the general public. The use of hounds to drive deer before the gun was seen as unpopular among many, even then, and Homer repainted parts of it to make it more appealing. Yet, it remains, as Homer  himself referred to it, “a great work”.

 

You Can Read More About Winslow Homer Here

 

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A Good Picture, Or Three..., Some Humor Too!, Through A Hunter's Eyes

Buck Fever In The Modern Age of Deer Hunting

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A Young Wisconsin White-tailed Deer Hunter Reacts After Missing a Buck...By Pulling Her Hat Over Her Head and Texting On Her Smart Phone
Maybe I Can Text In Another Deer

By Michael Patrick McCarty

Apparently, the proper thing to do these days when you miss a deer is to quickly cover your head with your hunting hat and reach for your nearby smartphone. Or at least this young Wisconsin hunter thought so.

Can you say buck fever?

buck fe·ver

noun

NORTH AMERICANinformal

 nervousness felt by novice hunters when they first sight game.

Not to fret, young deer huntress (yes, this is a young lady here). We’ve all been there, some more than once, whether we will admit it or not.

 And to think, in my day you simply froze in complete, unmitigated panic until the animal walked off,  and then hung on to the nearest limb with all of your arms and legs and with everything you had for an hour or more.

So you did not fall out of your treestand… As if your life depended on it…Because if you were high enough in the tree, it probably did.

 At least that’s what I’ve heard…

You?

 

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“He grouped his last five shots right in the center of the bull’s-eye. Then I showed him my technique of scattering shots randomly around the target because, as I explained, you never know which way the deer might jump just as you pull the trigger.” — Patrick McManus, The Hunting Lesson, February 1983

 

One That Did Not Get Away

 

 

A Wisconsin Big Game Hunter Poses With a Large Trophy Buck White-tailed Deer
Now That’s Something To Text About!

Mark Miller from Mauston,  Wisconsin and a deer of a lifetime. I don’t know if he had any buck fever, but there is certainly no ground shrinkage here!

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My Opinion (For What It's Worth), Trophy Gallery

Memory’s Gift

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“The Whitetail is the American Deer of the past, and the American Deer of the future.” – Ernest Thompson Seton

 

 

A Photograph of a mount of a white-tailed Deer 6 point buck, taken with a shotgun and slug in Maryland in the early 1970's
A Boy’s First Buck

 

Few events are more memorable to a hunter than the taking of his or her first buck. My guess is that you would probably agree.

Here is a picture of mine, which I recently found in a box of old Ektachrome slides. It is the only physical record I have left, as the mount was lost in a fire so many years ago.

I took this Maryland buck in 1971 when I was thirteen years old, with a Pumpkin Ball slug fired off the bead of my Remington 1100 shotgun. It could not have been a more beautiful, crisp, November morning in that wonderful land of whitetails. It was a fine shot too, for it is not so easy to make a fifty yard shot with that equipment. I was more than thrilled, and I don’t think anyone could have wiped the smile off of my face for several days.

I can recall almost every detail of that scene to this day, and I don’t mind revisiting it periodically in my mind. Obviously, it is not the biggest whitetail buck ever harvested, but it may as well have been, at least to me. Why it was as big as the world.

I hope that you have a memory like this in your box of experiences, and if not, may you get one soon.

Long live the white-tailed deer!

 

You Can read the full story HERE

 

Posted by Michael Patrick McCarty

 

The front cover of dustjacket of The Whitetail Deer Guide: A Practical Guide To Hunting... by Ken Heuser
A Lifetime of Learning

 

For Sale:

The Whitetail Deer Guide-A Complete, Practical Guide to Hunting America’s Number One Big Game Animal

by Heuser, Ken

Hard cover. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York (1972)
Very good in Very Good dust jacket. xii, 208 p. : illus.; 22 cm. Includes Illustrations.

Please email us at huntbook1@gmail.com if interested in details.

 

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Trophy Gallery

The Bowhunting Looks To Be Good In Virginia

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Congratulations to the Virginia bowhunting contingent. We can’t wait to see what you turn up next.

 

A hunter poses with a trophy white-tailed deer. This buck was taken in Virginia during the archery season.
A Buck To Hold Onto. Jeff McManus with His Virginia Bowhunting Dream Buck.

 

Cay McManus, Championship Archer, poses with her latest virginia bowhunting whitetail buck.
One More, of Many. Cay McManus With Her 2015 Buck

 

A woman bowhunter poses with a doe white-tailed deer taken with archery equipment in the Virginia hardwoods.
Whitetail Steaks Tonight! Cay McManus Knows How To Get It Done.

 

-Cay McManus is a World Class Archer (literally). She has won the Indoor World Championship one time, and the World Outdoor Championship 5 times.

She has also won The National Field Archery Championship in various categories a total of 33 times, a record for any woman archer. As she said to me recently, would you like to help me dust some championship bowls?

It is an amazing accomplishment in any sport. As you can see, she knows her way around the deer woods too!

Rock On!

 

Posted by Michael Patrick McCarty