This story, “A Phantom of Report,” appeared within the November 1971 difficulty of Out of doors Life. The Brunk buck stays the No. 2 largest typical ever killed in Missouri, in response to Boone & Crockett, and the twenty fifth largest of all-time. It was taken in Clark County, Missouri, on Nov. 22, 1969.
Three does exploded from the brush-covered draw as in the event that they’d had a working begin. They bolted throughout a gap after which melted right into a small patch of timber 200 yards forward. I heard these whitetails nearly in addition to I noticed them. It was bitter chilly, and the farm nation in northeastern Missouri was coated with heavy frost that crackled because the deer raced away.
Daybreak was a half-hour gone on that November morning in 1968. I wasn’t within the does, however I puzzled why they ran right into a small thicket when larger woodlands had been shut by. Strolling was so noisy {that a} quiet stalk was unimaginable. Once I acquired inside 150 yards of the thicket, the three deer hightailed out throughout an open beanfield and headed for a bigger woods a quarter-mile to my proper. I used to be watching them run when a sudden crashing of brush erupted the place that they had simply been. I whirled round, however a buck was already jetting full pace alongside the route the three does had taken.
As quickly as I noticed him I choked up. There was little question that I used to be in search of the second time on the Phantom. He was monumental, but it surely was his rack that took my breath away. The antlers had been large, and the tines had been nearly white. They regarded ghostly towards frost-covered hills.
I nearly stumbled as I shouldered my Springfield single-shot 20-gauge shotgun. I took a cautious lead on the streaking buck and fired. The slug exploded a bathe of frost low and behind the deer. I broke the motion, fumble-fingered one other shell into the gun, held somewhat greater, moved the barrel farther forward of the goal, and squeezed the set off once more. A second cloud of frost erupted off the bottom, just below the buck’s stomach. Then he ran over a knoll within the beanfield and momentarily disappeared.
When the buck got here into view once more he was nonetheless within the open however too far-off for an additional attempt with the shotgun. My breath went out with a helpless gasp as I watched him run throughout the sphere and disappear into the timber.
For minutes I fought despair. Then my temper modified to anger. I acquired about as mad as a 16-year-old boy can get. I wasn’t mad at myself; I used to be mad at my dad. If he hadn’t insisted that I hunt deer with a shotgun, I may need killed that buck.
“Positive,” I instructed myself, “if I’d had a rifle, I may have stored capturing.”
I ran all the way in which residence, stampeded into the home, and blurted out my story to my of us. With out being disrespectful I made it clear that shotgun slugs are ineffective for capturing at long-range bucks.
“Someway,” I emphasised, “I’m going to have a brand new rifle come subsequent deer season.”
I’m 19 now, and I attend Northeast Missouri State Faculty, the place I’m majoring in animal science. I plan to get a bachelor’s diploma after which go on to some college and get a grasp’s diploma in wildlife administration.
My of us personal 245 acres of wonderful farmland 4 miles north of Revere, Missouri. Dad rents a further 45 acres. Our hog herd consists of registered Hampshires, and we develop numerous corn to feed them. We elevate as much as 1,000 head of fats hogs annually.
The terrain round our farm is right deer nation. Oak, hickory, and different hardwoods make up many of the woodlands, and we even have numerous cedar. In locations the underbrush is so thick that you would be able to hardly struggle your means via it.
Our timber areas aren’t huge just like the forests of some states within the North. Most of them differ from lower than an acre as much as about 100 acres. The timber border pastures and fields of corn and beans. The woodlands are hilly, with quite a few ditches and attracts that run into croplands.
Our whitetails don’t have any wintering downside. They’ve limitless meals, and the thick woodlands off er good cowl. The excessive mineral content material of our soil produces big-racked bucks, particularly north of the Missouri River.
Again in 1936 Missouri’s statewide deer inhabitants was estimated at 2,000 whitetails unfold over 28 counties. Thirty years later, in 1966, hunters harvested 28,423 deer in Missouri. This dramatic enhance is the direct results of wonderful sport administration by our state conservation division. A few of our northern counties have proven wonderful herd progress. Our farm is in Clark County, the place the deer kill jumped from 56 in 1960 to 239 in 1968. Biologists say Missouri’s whitetail herd remains to be rising.
I used to be fortunate that my deer-hunting profession was getting below means on the identical time the herd grew to become properly established. However even earlier than then I used to be an avid hunter. Dad has been a hunter and trapper all of his life. I used to comply with him on small-game hunts till my ninth Christmas. That’s when he gave me the 20 gauge and I branched out by myself.
There was little question that I used to be in search of the second time on the Phantom. He was monumental, but it surely was his rack that took my breath away. The antlers had been large, and the tines had been nearly white. They regarded ghostly towards frost-covered hills.
In the course of the subsequent few years I provided the makings of many quail, rabbit, waterfowl, and pheasant dinners. When sport seasons weren’t open I went after varmints. However Dad wouldn’t give me permission to hunt deer until I turned 14 in 1966.
I couldn’t look ahead to the autumn firearms season, so I purchased a fiberglass bow that had a 50-pound pull. I bowhunted with out success from the primary of October until the gun season opened. I used to be after deer nearly each minute I wasn’t at school, doing chores, sleeping, or consuming. I discovered many feeding grounds. bedding areas, and well-traveled runways. I noticed loads of deer, however I wasn’t expert sufficient to get inside bow vary of them.
On the primary day of the firearms season I hunted with Dad, however neither of us acquired a shot. The subsequent day Dad needed to work, so I used to be by myself. I hunted all morning with out seeing a deer, then walked residence for lunch. I helped with chores till midafternoon after which headed out to stillhunt some close by timber.
An hour or so later I jumped a giant buck that was bedded below some cedars. The deer lined immediately throughout a small clearing. He was about 30 yards out after I aimed toward his neck and fired. The 20 gauge slug went true, and the buck pitched face-down as if he’d been clubbed. He was useless when he hit the bottom. I didn’t understand what a wonderful trophy I’d taken till Dad and I acquired the buck residence. The sector-dressed carcass weighed 215 kilos, and the 12-point rack was huge.
“Jeff,” Dad stated, “your first buck might be the most important you’ll ever shoot. I don’t suppose I’ve ever seen a much bigger deer. You’re a fortunate hunter.”
On the time, I figured Dad was proper. That was earlier than the Phantom got here into my life. In Missouri it’s authorized to take one deer with a gun and one other with archery gear, so I used to be capable of maintain looking until the tip of December. I scored on a button buck, however more often than not I used to be creating my looking strategies.
I quickly discovered that when deer are shifting — early and late within the day — it’s greatest to take a stand. In the event that they’re touring to feeding and bedding areas, they’ll stroll inside straightforward vary if you happen to’re in the proper place. I discovered to choose spots the place two runways meet or cross. In such locations you double your possibilities of seeing deer.
It shocked me, although, to find that I noticed extra deer whereas I used to be stillhunting. Whereas I used to be first studying stillhunting strategies I’d simply get glimpses of white flags flashing via the timber. However as time went on I discovered easy methods to get nearer to the animals.
I imagine {that a} deer hunter is sort of certain to seek out motion if he has an intimate information of his looking space. If you recognize the place a herd feeds, travels, and beds down, half of your stillhunting issues are solved. Then you’ll be able to consider sneaking into recognized deer areas over completely acquainted terrain, taking exact benefit of wind situations and recognized cowl. A talented stillhunter sees loads of deer as a result of he is aware of the place the animals can be always of the day, not simply in early morning and late afternoon. This precept doesn’t maintain true in huge forests, but it surely works nice within the scattered timber of farm nation.
My secret to success with this method is being within the woods a lot that I virtually stay with the deer as they transfer about. In the course of the off season after I scored on the 12-pointer, I used to be afield sufficient to find some astonishing information. I discovered to acknowledge particular person bucks, and I may come near predicting what time of day they’d transfer via a selected space. I knew what number of deer had been in sure timber stands and what journey routes they used when hungry, drained, or spooked.
Just one factor stumped me throughout these scouting classes. A number of instances I discovered an unlimited set of deer tracks. The imprints had been very broadly unfold and oddly flared. Usually I checked tracks of massive bucks that I had jumped, but I by no means matched any contemporary tracks with the massive mysterious imprints.
The puzzle was solved two days earlier than the 1967 gun deer season opened. I used to be ending a day of quail looking with three pals. It was nightfall once we got here out of some timber and headed for a street. All of a sudden we noticed three deer standing close to the sting of a area 300 yards away. At first I believed I used to be a doe and two fawns. Then I noticed that I used to be gazing two grownup does and an enormous buck.
The extra I studied the buck the extra I puzzled if my eyes had been deceiving me. His antlers had been nearly white, and for a second I believed I is likely to be useless tree limbs. Then he moved barely, and the tremendously lengthy white tines of his rack got here into clear focus.
I hardly had time to notice that the buck was far bigger than any I’d ever seen. He simply appeared to evaporate. However I caught one glimpse of him whereas he was working, and that sight can be burned on my thoughts endlessly. He regarded extra like an elk than a deer. He ran with an impressive gait. His head was excessive, and it didn’t appear to maneuver in any respect.
I rushed throughout the sphere and regarded on the monumental tracks. They had been the identical broadly unfold and unusually flared imprints that I’d seen earlier than. A queasy feeling came to visit me after I realized how crafty that whitetail should be. It was onerous to imagine that I had by no means noticed him throughout my months of devoted scouting. That’s after I named him the Phantom.
The massive buck eluded me throughout that fall’s gun and bow seasons. However I adopted his tracks a number of instances, they usually helped me decide his residence space. There wasn’t a lot doubt that he stayed in an space of some sq. miles simply east of our farm.
I didn’t say a lot to anyone about that buck through the looking seasons, however later I made a decision to seek out out if any of the neighbors knew about him. I drew blanks with everyone.
“You certain you noticed a buck that large?” requested one farmer. “And also you declare his antlers are nearly white? Looks like such a buck couldn’t assist however be observed in farm nation.”
When the summer season of 1968 got here alongside I spent days following the Phantom’s tracks. They instructed me fairly a narrative. I found that he by no means traveled on particular trails and that he by no means got here out into feeding areas on routes utilized by different deer. He appeared to wander aimlessly via his territory, and I made a decision that I’d by no means get him by taking stands alongside trails. My solely probability could be stillhunting.
That fall I missed an opportunity on the Phantom within the incident I described firstly of this story. My message to Dad in regards to the issues of looking deer with shotguns rubbed off, and he let me use his Mannequin 94 Winchester .30 /30 a number of days when he needed to work. One morning whereas stillhunting I jumped a pleasant 10-pointer and anchored him with a shoulder shot. For the remainder of the 12 months I switched to bowhunting, however I by no means noticed the Phantom once more.
Once I graduated from highschool the subsequent spring my of us offered me with a brand new Browning semiautomatic Grade II .30/06 rifle. I fitted it with a l½X to 4½X Weaver scope with Twin X crosshairs. I needed a low-power scope since its broad area of view could be wonderful for the snap-shooting possibilities that happen in stillhunting.
“You certain you noticed a buck that large?” requested one farmer. “And also you declare his antlers are nearly white? Looks like such a buck couldn’t assist however be observed in farm nation.”
When the November 15 to 23 gun season opened, Dad and I had been joined by my Uncle Larry Brunk, who’s a dentist from Burlington, Iowa, and my cousin Greg, a university pupil from Burlington. Dad dropped a six-pointer the primary morning. Late the subsequent day Greg and I noticed a deer working via a cornfield east of the farm. The animal stopped close to the sting of some timber 75 yards away, however within the fading nightfall we couldn’t inform if it was a buck or a doe. Then the deer moved its head barely and we may see a rack. Greg’s rifle roared, and the seven-pointer went down with a damaged backbone.
That fall I used to be attending junior school in Keokuk, Iowa, about 20 miles from our farm. I used to be dwelling at residence, however I didn’t have a lot time to hunt besides on weekends. My Uncle Larry got here up on the Wednesday after opening day and killed a big 10-pointer. Now I used to be the one one within the foursome who hadn’t scored.
The subsequent Saturday I stillhunted from daybreak to darkish and jumped two does for my efforts. I went to mattress early that night time as a result of Sunday could be my final full day of looking through the gun season. I had a brand new plan.
I’d found that the Phantom had a behavior of bedding down in tiny timber patches on ridges near large woodlands, particularly after rifles started banging. I suppose he selected these spots in order that he may see in all instructions and, when hassle developed, may drop down into the large adjoining woodlands. I deliberate to stillhunt each seemingly piece of small brush in his space.
Daybreak got here on chilly with a slight overcast and a lightweight breeze. I started to comply with my schedule of stillhunting ridges. My plan was to stroll silently to seemingly spots, cease and look, after which transfer on.
About midmorning I walked down a ridge, crossed a creek, and began up a hill main to a different ridge lined with scattered clumps of cedar and scrub oak. I used to be shifting slowly, and the grass allowed silent journey. As I look again on the scenario, I’m certain the Phantom by no means suspected I used to be on that hill. I’m satisfied he merely determined to maneuver on his personal.
I used to be midway up the hill after I famous a slight motion in a cedar clump 100 yards above me. Then an enormous white set of antlers appeared above the cedars. I didn’t see another a part of the deer; simply that ghostly white rack seemingly hung from the sky.
In seconds the antlers moved as in the event that they had been floating in air. The buck was strolling very slowly. I lined my scope on a gap within the cedars and waited. I used to be abruptly afraid that the Phantom would hear my coronary heart banging towards my ribs.
Then his physique was away from the timber. The big brown form supplied an ideal broadside goal. The crosshairs settled on his shoulder, and my rifle roared.
I used to be constructive the buck would collapse; I knew the 180-grain slug had gone true to its mark. As an alternative, he bolted as if he hadn’t been scratched. He wheeled towards some thick oaks and ran like lightning. I recovered quick sufficient to get in a single snap shot earlier than he disappeared into the timber.
It was deathly quiet now, as if the entire episode had by no means occurred. I ran to the spot the place the buck had been standing, however I may discover no hint of hair or blood.
I adopted the acquainted wide-splayed tracks until I got here to the paved freeway lead’ng north out of Revere. Once I crossed the street I acquired one other shock : I couldn’t discover his path. It dawned on me that the good outdated whitetail had run the pavement to cover his hoofprints. The thought nearly made me sick. I nonetheless hadn’t discovered any blood or hair. The buck apparently was alert and never hurting in any respect. For a second I puzzled if I may presumably have missed the standing, wide-open goal.
“No means,” I instructed myself. “That deer needs to be hit.”
I reasoned that if he was wounded he would run the street downhill, then flip off right into a brushy draw resulting in large timber. A number of of those attracts reduce throughout a beanfield. I checked the biggest one first. I discovered no signal of the buck, so I walked to the subsequent draw. I didn’t get very far into it when a sudden crashing of brush erupted 50 yards forward of me. I couldn’t spot the Phantom, however from to run throughout the beanfield. I smashed frantically forward, hoping that I may get a shot at him within the open. I used to be too late, however I stored on working until I used to be throughout the sphere and into one other draw.
Minutes later I jumped the buck once more, no more than 40 ft forward of me. I acquired a very good view of that white rack and big physique, however the thick brush swallowed him so quick I didn’t have time to shoot. Once I picked up his tracks I used to be elated. I discovered a couple of drops of blood the place he’d been standing.
My solely selection was to remain on his path. About two hours later I jumped him out of a creekbottom whereas I used to be strolling down a hill. He busted out at full pace 100 yards away however comparatively within the clear. I believed I had him, however he didn’t react in any respect to my three pictures.
I acquired a very good view of that white rack and big physique, however the thick brush swallowed him so quick I didn’t have time to shoot.
About quarter-hour later I noticed the massive deer slinking via thick brush 200 yards forward. I barely had time for one snap shot. I stored stalking on and shortly noticed him 75 yards away in some cedars. He was shifting slowly, and for the primary time I noticed that he should be badly wounded. I adopted him in my scope till he moved right into a tiny clearing. Then I fastidiously squeezed the set off. When my rifle roared, the Phantom crashed to the bottom.
I ran as much as the useless deer and stared on the white antlers. The 13-point rack was even larger than I had pictured it. As I field-dressed the buck I found that one bullet had fairly properly shattered a shoulder blade, and different slugs had disintegrated one lung and the tip of his coronary heart.
It took me 20 minutes to run residence, but it surely took three hours for Dad, Uncle Larry, Greg, and me to tug the monster buck out to a street. We loaded him in our pickup truck after which drove to a conservation-department deer-checking station. Later we hung him in a locker plant that has an eight-foot-high ceiling. We hauled him up by his hind legs with pulleys till his again hoofs touched the ceiling. His head and rack had been nonetheless on the ground.
After I acquired the Phantom’s mounted I took it to Jerry Barton, our Clark County sport warden. Jerry was so certain I’d taken a brand new state-record whitetail that he acquired in contact with Dean Murphy, superintendent of sport administration for the Missouri Division of Conservation. In the summertime of 1970 I acquired a letter from Dean.
“If Jerry’s figures are appropriate you could have greater than a brand new state-record whitetail,” Dean wrote. “I’m an official scorer for the Boone and Crockett Membership, and I’d certain prefer to measure these antlers. I’ll verify them after I rise up in your space.”
On September 16 Dean measured the antlers and got here up with a preliminary rating of 197 2/8. That’s 13 6/8 higher than the rating of the previous Missouri-record typical whitetail, taken by Marvin Lentz of Sumner.
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My largest shock was but to return. On Might 5, 1971, the Phantom gained the Boone and Crockett Membership’s award because the highest-scoring typical whitetail killed in North America through the membership’s 14th big-game competitors, protecting the years 1968 via 1970. My trophy’s ultimate official rating was 199 4/8, simply 7 1/8 lower than the rating of the world-record typical whitetail and good for the No. 4 spot within the membership’s general information.
The information left me flabbergasted. I by no means dreamed it was doable for a Missouri farm boy to kill such a trophy just some miles from residence.