I Can't Believe I Dun That
By Keith Dotterer
Volume 1 Tall Tales About The Humorous Hunter Number 11
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Chapter 11: Cletus Raye was lounging in his trophy room one evening, when a memory from the past caused him
to chuckle. This particular incident happened over 20 years ago, a time when Cletus thought he had all the
knowledge he would ever need, when it came to hunting whitetail deer. He felt a little different today, since each
hunting season that rolls around, brings new details to his attention, to the point that Cletus began to think he did
not really know all that much after all.
On this specific hunt, Cletus was proudly showing his prowess as a hunter to a young man that had only hunted
deer a couple of times so far. They were going to spend a week at their hunting camp and Cletus volunteered to
take the young man under his wing and show him how to get it done. The first day of hunting was going to be
spent sitting in prime locations waiting for a buck to pass by. Cletus had placed the new hunter overlooking a
saddle about 100 yards wide, telling him to be patient and stay for the day. “Sooner or later,” Cletus advised, “a
buck is going to cross there.” That evening, Cletus arrived back at camp, weary from examining one bald head
after another, in vain, searching for antlers. He was a little surprised to learn, that the solitary buck hanging on
the meat pole was taken by the new hunter. Then the old instincts took over and he offered his hardy
congratulations, along with comments about placing him in a prime location. The successful hunter was all
smiles, commenting, “Now, I can help you guys get your deer.” Cletus just smiled, thinking to himself, there was
nothing the new guy could do to help me, tomorrow would be the day.
Over the next couple of days, everyone there collected their buck, except for Cletus. He had a couple of
glimpse’s at bucks, but no shots. The new hunter kept telling Cletus, “Let me help you get your buck.” It was
starting to irritate Cletus. But, he kept his cool and said he would be just fine. He was seeing bucks and he would
have his shot. The new guy, not one to be shy, reminded Cletus, that tomorrow was the last day of their hunt and
he was the only one without a deer.
The next morning they awoke to a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. Ah, Cletus thought to himself, I can
track one down today. He was all fired up and raring to go as soon as breakfast was over. Seeing Cletus ready
to leave, the new hunter rushed over to him and gushed, “Please let me go with you and help you get a buck.”
Inwardly, Cletus groaned, then the thought came to him, once I jump a buck and start tracking, there is no way
this guy can keep up with me. He turned to the neophyte and motioned to him, let’s go. For the next couple of
hours, they slowly worked their way up one ridge and down another, all the while searching for antlers on the
deer that moved out ahead of them. Cletus was starting to get into the hunt and proudly showing the young chap
what to look for in tracks, telling a buck from a doe. They were examining some fresh tracks in the snow, when
the young fellow excitedly proclaimed, “There’s a buck .“ Cletus looked up just in time to see the buck,
accompanied by a doe, disappear into some thick laurel. Patiently, they slowly tracked the deer, getting bogged
down at times, when the deer they were following crossed tracks with other deer. But they persisted on, catching
a glimpse now and then, of the buck Cletus was determined to bag. In and out of thick patches of laurel, through
the hardwoods and hemlocks, up and down the ridges they went. At one point they discovered the deer had
bedded down and Cletus showed the new guy how to determine if one was a buck by the urine marks in the snow.
By mid afternoon, Cletus was somewhat surprised the young man was keeping with him stride for stride. Cletus
began to hold this young fellow in a higher regard as he was paying attention, as well as starting to read the
tracks and sign rather well. On a couple of occasions, they caught sight of the deer and as Cletus whipped his
rifle to his shoulder, his companion instantly froze, so not to disturb anything. Cletus gave him an approving look.
As they approached a rather large, exceptionally thick patch of laurel, they saw the tracks heading straight
into it. Cletus was starting into it, when the neophyte tugged on his coat, then whispered to him, “Why don’t we
circle around and see if they have came out the other side, the wind is at our backs now and the deer can see and
smell us coming if we follow their trail. If there are still in there, maybe we can sneak in, with the wind in our
favor and catch them by surprise.” Cletus stared at him amazed, thinking to himself, “Now why didn’t I think of
that, this kid is pretty sharp.” They quietly circled around and sure enough, there were no tracks coming out.
Cletus motioned, slow and quiet, his companion nodded in agreement, and they began easing there way into the
thick cover. They had covered about 80 yards, when Cletus saw a deer stand up in some thick stuff ahead of
them. He slowly raised his rifle and through the scope could see it was a doe. He remained motionless, his eyes
searching carefully around the doe. After a bit, a slight movement caught his attention, there was the buck about
10 yards to the left. All Cletus could see was patches of brown, some antlers and the neck of the buck. Easing
the crosshairs onto the center of the neck, he fired. “He’s down,” the kid yelled and they pushed there way
forward to the fallen trophy. Cletus examined the buck, then turning to his companion, exclaimed, “ That’s the
way you do it, a clean neck shot, that eliminates a tracking job.”
After some hearty handshakes, Cletus grabbed the deer and flipped it over on it’s back in preparation to field
dress it. He knelt down and just as he started to insert the knife to begin the field dressing process, the buck’s
hind hooves hit Cletus’s chest in unison, sending him flying backward into the laurel. As Cletus lay there,
gasping for a breath of air, the buck rolled over and tried to get to it’s feet. Cletus was still lying there totally
helpless, when the kid grabbed his rifle and administered the coup de grace, with a shot through the chest.
Cletus finally got his wind back and staggering to his feet, went over to examine his buck again. He discovered
that his shot had passed just over the spine, simply knocking the buck out. The young man looked at Cletus and
with a solemn face, stated, “ Aren’t you glad I wanted to help you get your buck?” Cletus could only nod his
head in complete agreement.
Field dressing chores completed, with tow roped attached, they turned toward camp. Upon arriving back at
camp, they were met by the other hunters, who excitedly congratulated Cletus on his successful conclusion of the
hunt. Rethel commented, “Boy, I see you pulled off your favorite shot, through the neck.” Turning to the new
hunter, Rethel questioned, “ Did you learn a lot today, watching an old pro at work? I‘ll bet you are going to try
and take neck shots from now on.” The young man shook his head, saying “No, I want to stay on my feet and
keep my deer.” Now, all of the other hunters were staring at Cletus’s companion with puzzled looks, when the
kid saw Cletus put his finger to lips, imploring silence. He turned to the inquisitive hunters and stated, “Ah, well,
ah, being new to this deer hunting business, I need the bigger target the rib cage provides.” With that, he turned
and walked into the tent, leaving the perplexed hunters looking at each other, still wondering what in the world
that was all about. Cletus shrugged his shoulders, saying not a word, turned and headed into the tent as well. The
young man looked at Cletus as he entered whispering, “Some things are better left unsaid.” The kid nodded in
agreement, forming a quiet bond between the two, that Cletus would have bet earlier, would have never
happened. But he was sure glad he had meet this persistent young fellow.