It all started in August already. I was scouting the area geting used to whereabouts of the reds. Pretty casual, easy going with iron sighted double I was visiting their favourite points.

My parts

Stags whereabouts

Once I found some promisable signs

The gloves were off - scoped R93 in 9,3x62 and 230gr GS HV custom's, doing 2550fps was brought up

and an exhausting game of seek and hide began...stag was staying on this ridge during the day. Well protected with usual wind from its behind overlooking slope below with a handy thickets few steps away - a true fort.

There were times when my Boy was making me company...

Lots of other game crossed my path (bear cub):

...and days were draging into eternity...hunting became a pilgrimage - humdrum life.

Yet it came September and with it a rut time. Ah - love - love has been the bane of his life, hind has been his undoing.

Rut began rather early this year - perhaps due a long drought during August...anyway I heard it first on September the 3rd.

A young stag enraged Him and He followed into a big walley nearby. Weather was pretty warm - even during moonlighted nights but rut was incredible...

I was close, realy close a couple of times but the wind and young stags were keeping him safe...

Some other respective heads were taken by my mates

And the quota was drying out - only 1 stag left...

Then came the Sunday the 18th. Warm weather was about to change late in the night.
In the Morning the whole lot of main stag with hinds and 2 side stags moved up the near hill and stay in the thickets. Rut was heard well into daylight (8.45 am).
During the day a couple of showers hit us - just to wet grounds and make stalking possible.

Along with my friend we rushed the before mentioned hill. When we peeked over first ridge at 5.00 pm all 3 Stags were already roaring. We pushed hard almost to the top, just under the thicket that covered the top of the hill.
Stag was close - realy close some 100m above us. My friend stayed behind some rocks while I cheated another 15m to observe the edge of the thicket. Bloody squirrel jumped out - causing a minor stroke I admit...then he moved. Strange - he was alone - limping badly still keeping himself just inside the thickets so I had a hard time looking for a smallest openings to squeeze a bullet through. At one moment I was already squeezing already light trigger on my R93 when he moved further on...at the next dormer I was ready. Cross just behind the shoulder - he was going away already and a mild shove to my shoulder that followed a loud BOOM froze the moment. He marked well - high jump and a tucked in hind legs confirmed the hit...then a mad run and out of the sight.

After couple of minutes we climbed to the spot he was at the time of the shot. Blood was there alright - frothy one - from the lungs...

...he took a straight, level cross the slope...bleeding and meandering...shot was taking its tole

Still after 100m or so the trail was beginning tu turn uphill...additional care was taken - wasn't needed - he was dead on his back a couple of meters ahead...Bullet passed from entry behind its left shoulder to exit on its right shoulder.

then the first drops of rain fell...