Well guys for the second time in my hunting career the season ended while my buck tag was still empty. I had a few chances to take a legal buck, but every time I was about to drop the hammer it seemed as luck prevailed for the deer. 

My brother's season ended on the first day and it has a great story.

I call it, My Deer, His Shot, Our Trophy.

We have two hunting shacks here on the farm, it's really the only way to hunt our property considering the majority of it is field. I hunt in "The Hilton", Ethan hunts in "The Highrise". We built the "Hilton" in '06 and it's the nicer of the two stands, hence "The Hilton". "The Hilton" is complete with carpeted floors, insulated walls, five windows and a heater. 

"The Highrise" sits on 4x4s twenty four feet in the air, again the name is fitting. Again this building has carpet four windows and a heater. 

The two buildings face each other at an angle and no, there is no way we could "accidentally" shoot each other. Both stands overlook almost the entire field, so to determine who shoots when a legal deer enters the field there is a pine tree that was picked many, many, many years ago as the boundary line.

At about two o"clock on the opening day two buck entered the field on Ethan's side of the tree. Ethan didn't realize that there were two deer in the field and was too focused on the big three point to realize that there was an eight point with it. By the time that he saw the other buck it was moving in my direction and wasn't giving him a shot. 

Finally the Buck stopped, after checking with my Uncle to make sure the buck was on our side of the tree, I readied my rifle and found the deer in my scope. It would have been a 280 yard shot so I aimed a little high on the deer's neck. I just slipped the safety off on my rifle and began to add a little pressure to the trigger, the trigger has some creep in it, so when I felt the trigger ease back I knew it would go off with a hair more amount of pressure. 

A rifle sounded off and the buck dropped to the ground.

My Uncle reached out to slap my hand in congratulations and I just smirked, I said, "I didn't shoot".

I watched through the scope as my brother's Win 243. found it's mark at the base of the deer's neck, killing it instantly. As I reached the deer, Ethan yelled off from a short distance, "Sorry". 

It was about 50 yards on my side of the tree, but it didn't matter. I was more excited for Ethan than I would have been for myself. It was Ethan's first eight point and aside from being a legal deer, it wasn't exactly great in the antler department.