A Buck The 1858 Way

I have done a lot of deer hunting. I love to hunt deer. I have put many of these critters in the freezer and enjoyed many dinners from them. My wife, god bless her, is a venison tenderloin crack addict. No really, while I'm trying to carry a cooler through the house, she is trying to open the damn cooler and dig out a package of those tender delights.
 I have quite few deer hunting stories. Some I'll tell and some I won't. Here is one of the good ones.

I have access to 120 acres south of Nevada Missourah. It is an old peanut farm, now half oak timber and the other half is mixed sumac thicket and cedar thicket and grassy clearings. I always had better luck in the timber and grassy/timber edges.
On this particular hunt I had invited my brother-in-law and a common friend of ours. We had made it to our stands in the early morning darkness and had not seen anything to shoot by noon. We had agreed to meet at the truck around that time so off we went to Nevada to get some lunch. Now this was a very warm season that year. When we came back from lunch we all had on t-shirts and orange vest over them. After talking it over we decide to still hunt to our stands then meet up at dark. The friend headed up to the north side of the property, while my BIL and I went to the south side and had about 40-50 yards between us to start with. We had slipped through the sumac and grassy areas and made it down to the timber without seeing anything. I started into the oaks and had made about 30 yards when one of my side ways scans yielded a buck napping in a patch of sunlight about 45 yards away. I had my rifle, a Winchester 30/06 slung over my shoulder and a replica of an 1858 Remington .44 caliber cap and ball revolver carried in a cross draw holster. Suddenly all of us hear a loud CRACK from up north. Me, my BIL and the buck all swiveled our heads to focus on that direction. Quietly drawing the 1858 I sent a round ball crashing though the brain pan of the buck. My BIL jumped and asked, what the hell I was doing? Standing in a cloud of smoke I said, "I just shot that buck over there." He turned out to be a nice 6 pointer and was the best taken that weekend.

I still have access to that property, but since my friend the owner died, his widow lets a lot of people hunt that property and it is getting very crowded. And that CRACK that made the buck lift his head for me? It was our friend stepping on a dead limb on the ground that gave way, much to his surprise.