Your Subtitle text
Kids Countree
By Colin DeBarber

Colin has written a great article for Deep Countree. He is 14 years old and is a very ethical sportsman. Please enjoy Colin’s story on how he harvested his First Mule Deer Buck.

I woke up the morning of Wednesday, November 14 with thoughts of shooting my first respectable mule deer buck. I had dreams of shooting a really big buck; maybe a 4x4 for my first deer. My dad, Patrick DeBarber, had grown up in Hamilton, Montana along with his brothers, Jason, and John.  They had hunted the Dillon area along with my grandpa, John DeBarber, for over 30 years. Two years ago grandpa died of colon cancer. I had only hunted with him a few times, though we were very close. When he and I hunted mule deer, we had no luck.  

Though grandpa was gone, I was very excited about the chance to shoot my first deer this time around.  I waited in anticipation for the day to come when I would fly out to Montana from my hometown of Enfield, CT. So this is where the story begins.
Nice Buck 

We drove up to Blacktail in Dillon, Montana. We checked in at the Brown Ranch Block Management land. We had hunted almost the whole day, not seeing many deer. Then, my Dad's radio went off with a call from my Uncle Jay. He said that he had been on the blood trail of a wounded animal. It was the blood of a wounded 2x2 forked horn that had been left to die by an irresponsible hunter. My uncle wanted me to come and shoot the wounded buck.

Uncle Jay first saw the 2x2 go in a pocket of timber and it didn't come out. I walked down to my uncle and he said that he would push through the timber to try to get the young buck out, so I could get a shot. I set up by a white pine tree with some rocks surrounding it. I laid my pack down and rested my rifle on it. Suddenly my uncle yelled, "I'm right here Collin!", so I would know where he was, and in hopes of spooking the buck out for a shot. He did just that.

I soon heard Uncle Jay yell "There he is!", and saw the deer come out just above the timber. Boy was he a beauty. He was slowly hopping up a little ridge but soon started trotting. I put my scope on him and decided immediately that I would use my tag on him; for the sake of the animal and for the sake of hunting in general. It was the right thing to do. He stopped his trot for a split second. He was quartering away as I held right behind his shoulder. When he was about 200 yards away from me, I squeezed the trigger. He flinched with his front leg and I knew I had hit him good. He fell not 10 yards from where I had shot him. I let him expire, then went and took a look. Unfortunately, he had been gut shot by another hunter who had left him to die. I had put a great shot on him which went right through the lungs. I was proud of my shot and I felt good that he didn't have to suffer any longer. And that is how I shot my first mule deer buck.