This would probably be my last hunt for a fair while as my knee replacement operation is only a few weeks away.

I was tossing up; either a sambar or a fallow deer hunt. In the end I opted for a fallow hunt as it would not be so hard on the knee. Leaving home in the darkness on Father’s Day morning it was clear at home and a very brisk 1°C with a frost. It was a 45-minute drive to the property, and I ran into heavy fog with only 15 km to go. I was thinking I would have to climb high to get above the fog and possibly spook the deer but we’d give it a crack.

Arriving at the property I couldn’t believe my luck — there was no fog. Heading through the gate I spotted a fallow doe but she was close to the farm house so I drove on a bit and parked up before glassing the hills. I soon found a mob of 18, way off in the distance.

Willow, the trusty Lab, and I decided on a game plan and off we set. I spotted a doe, a spikey and a fawn; obviously the one family, but they spooked a little and trotted off around the hill. Despite that we kept heading in the same direction as the main mob was still a fair way off. I’ve learnt since hunting with Willow to slow down and take a lot more notice of her behaviour because very rarely is she wrong when a deer is near. The thermals were starting to lift ever so slightly and the tiniest breeze was in our favour. Willow scented and indicated that something was not far away. Constantly looking with the binoculars, I spot a nice fallow buck in the distance, so the new plan was to try get to him.

It was going to be a difficult task to get near him on the distant tree line as I was going to run out of cover. Glassing showed another five bucks with him about 800 metres off. The plan was to head down into the swamp and sneak through the rushes into the creek bed. We would use the cover provided by the creek bed to access a dam bank from where I’d be able to take a shot. In the rushes we were sinking ankle-deep in mud. It was that stuff that pulls your gumboots off as you walk but there was no other option. We struggled through and slid into the creek bed. The deer were high and they overlooked the creek. They might be able to see us moving along so at times we were belly-sliding on the frozen grass until we were out of sight. After 500 metres in the creek bed we made it to the dam bank.

I belly-crawled up the bank and poked my head over. The bachelor mob was still there. A quick look decided the buck which I saw first was the best one to take. At a range of 200 metres, I lined him up with the 7 mm magnum and let rip a 150 grain Sirocco polymer-tip hand load. It hit well, in the shoulder; he managed 30 metres before going down. The others only had to take a couple of bounds and they disappeared in the thick tea tree. I lay in position for a good five minutes thinking how lucky this day had been and the rewards this harvest would provide.

As usual I put the 10-metre lead on Willow. When this lead goes on she knows we’re looking for a shot deer. Often, I know where the deer has fallen, but I always let her find it and she hasn’t missed one yet. We soon found the buck and to say I was stoked is an under-statement. After a few high-fives with Willow and some happy snaps we set about preparing the animal. Willow had a rewarding feed of some fresh liver. I got the four-wheel-drive well into the hunting area so the carry-out wasn’t too bad.

All in all, my Father’s Day hunt, the last for a while, is one to remember. The buck, was in great condition with a layer of fat on his carcass. The venison will make a lot of great pies and mince.

Contributed by Richard Timms.