ColColt
Handloader
- Apr 27, 2014
- 417
- 0
I thought I'd share this experience my younger brother and I had back around 1970.
When I lived in NC many moons ago I had scouted out an area several times for signs of Whitetail activity and found brush marks on several trees and knew they were in the area. I took my 18 year old brother with me, I was 25 at the time, and I was carrying a Marlin 336C and he had a 30 carbine. We got there just before dawn and I told him the best place to be was up in a certain large tree as deer wouldn't be looking up for trouble. We had not constructed a tree stand.There were several large limbs yo could sit on comfortably so, he was maybe fifteen feet above ground. I found a brushy spot and hid in it about 25 yards away.
It started misting light rain at day break and still no activity. About an hour later I heard a shot and thought my brother had seen something. As I turned to look I saw him falling out of the tree. I ran over trying to access what had happened and he was clutching his leg rocking back and forth. I asked him where he was shot as I saw no blood and no would anywhere. As I looked down there was a small hole on the side of his left foot with steam coming out. I jerked his boot and sock off to see where the bullet had gone in.
He had fallen asleep in the tree with his rifle cocked and not on safety. As he tried to catch himself when he began to fall from the tree he jerked the trigger. The muzzle was probably but inches from his foot. We left both rifles where we were and I got him piggy back and started the long trek back to the car. The lay of the land was mostly hill over dale with a stream to negotiate. My heart was racing for fear of his going into shock and wondering if we'd make it out or not. I had to stop several times to loosen then tighten the tourniquet I had made from my T-Shirt and to rest. Finally, we got back to the highway to discover I had gotten disoriented during the excitement and had came down about a block below where the car was.
I had no idea where the closest hospital was and flagged down a guy who told me to follow him. Long story short, he ended up having his index toe and the one next to it amputated. The bullet had destroyed the large toe bone as well. At one point we thought he'd surely loose his foot. Guess who got a chewing out from our Mom for not watching over kid brother better? You just can't ever be too safety minded with a firearm in your hands. Despite me telling him to keep the rifle on safety at some point he took it off thinking he saw a deer and never put it back on. It was quite an experience.
One caveat to this story was when the ranger came to the hospital where we were he asked what happened and where we were. I told him as best I could the location. To my surprise a few hours later he came back and had found both rifles. I asked him how he found them and he said, "I just followed the blood trail". He said we were about a mile and a half down in the woods. I couldn't believe I carried him that far. To have that sort of strength and energy today!!
When I lived in NC many moons ago I had scouted out an area several times for signs of Whitetail activity and found brush marks on several trees and knew they were in the area. I took my 18 year old brother with me, I was 25 at the time, and I was carrying a Marlin 336C and he had a 30 carbine. We got there just before dawn and I told him the best place to be was up in a certain large tree as deer wouldn't be looking up for trouble. We had not constructed a tree stand.There were several large limbs yo could sit on comfortably so, he was maybe fifteen feet above ground. I found a brushy spot and hid in it about 25 yards away.
It started misting light rain at day break and still no activity. About an hour later I heard a shot and thought my brother had seen something. As I turned to look I saw him falling out of the tree. I ran over trying to access what had happened and he was clutching his leg rocking back and forth. I asked him where he was shot as I saw no blood and no would anywhere. As I looked down there was a small hole on the side of his left foot with steam coming out. I jerked his boot and sock off to see where the bullet had gone in.
He had fallen asleep in the tree with his rifle cocked and not on safety. As he tried to catch himself when he began to fall from the tree he jerked the trigger. The muzzle was probably but inches from his foot. We left both rifles where we were and I got him piggy back and started the long trek back to the car. The lay of the land was mostly hill over dale with a stream to negotiate. My heart was racing for fear of his going into shock and wondering if we'd make it out or not. I had to stop several times to loosen then tighten the tourniquet I had made from my T-Shirt and to rest. Finally, we got back to the highway to discover I had gotten disoriented during the excitement and had came down about a block below where the car was.
I had no idea where the closest hospital was and flagged down a guy who told me to follow him. Long story short, he ended up having his index toe and the one next to it amputated. The bullet had destroyed the large toe bone as well. At one point we thought he'd surely loose his foot. Guess who got a chewing out from our Mom for not watching over kid brother better? You just can't ever be too safety minded with a firearm in your hands. Despite me telling him to keep the rifle on safety at some point he took it off thinking he saw a deer and never put it back on. It was quite an experience.
One caveat to this story was when the ranger came to the hospital where we were he asked what happened and where we were. I told him as best I could the location. To my surprise a few hours later he came back and had found both rifles. I asked him how he found them and he said, "I just followed the blood trail". He said we were about a mile and a half down in the woods. I couldn't believe I carried him that far. To have that sort of strength and energy today!!
