The Last Hunt
by Jim Taylor
It was the second day of a 2-day hunt in the mountains North of Tucson, AZ when the accident happened. We were after the diminutive Coues Whitetail Deer that inhabits this part of Arizona. Named for Elliott Coues (1842-99), one of America's most renowned ornithologists and historians, the little Whitetails are found only in the South-Eastern parts of Arizona and on down into Mexico. Mr. Coues was the first person to catalog them as a distinct and separate species of deer.
While most people pronounce the name "coos" it is actually pronounced "kouz" (sort of like "house") according to The Columbia Encyclopedia, Sixth Edition 2001, the name being of French and Norman descent. But no matter how you pronounce it, these little deer are one tough customer. Called "the grey ghosts of the desert" by some, they are very adept at sneaking, crawling, and even hiding while in plain sight.
Dad and I were doing a horseback hunt in the hills and canyons near Oracle, AZ, trying to get Dad a nice deer. I was after one myself but it was more just for the fun of getting out with Dad for a few days. We had packed up my old gentle 5-gaited mare Stardust for Dad and I was breaking in a new horse, an Appaloosa named Hud. Hud was a cantankerous character with a number of bad habits. He had run wild in the cienega's along the San Pedro River until being caught and gelded at about the age of 5. I got him from Jack Kelly - a rancher on the San Pedro - to break for him and to use for Deer Hunting this particular year. We had 6 hunters we took out over the Mule Deer season and I needed an extra nag for the string. Hud provided the extra... as well as some comic relief.
The Appaloosa was very sure-footed in bad ground, but had the annoying habit of running backwards at odd times... but only when you were leading him. If you got seated securely you were OK for the rest of the day. He might test you a bit when you first got started, but it wasn't serious and he settled down to the job quickly. But if you got off to lead him you could have troubles. I suppose if you had run wild that long before being gelded it might do something to your personality also!
The area around Oracle where I lived had both the Coues Whitetail and Mule Deer in abundance. Arizona had several Deer Season's and one could get tags for both the Whitetail and the Mule Deer hunts. I had taken a nice Mule Deer buck during the Mule Deer Hunt a month or so earlier. I had used my old beat-up Ruger Blackhawk .45 and whacked a nice buck at about 80 yards. Dad had not hunted Mulie's but did have a Whitetail tag. I figured it was a good time to load up the horses and spend a couple days in the hills. And I made another decision ... I decided to hunt with a single-shot handgun!
The gun in question was a Pachmyr Dominator.. a single shot barrel and action mounted on the Colt 1911 auto frame. It was an extremely strong setup, being chambered in many rifle calibers. Hal Swiggett loaned me his 7mm-08 Dominator and it was something in the accuracy department. The 12" barrel gave about the same ballistics as the 270 Winchester in a rifle. Recoil was dampened by a Kleingunther Muzzle Brake, but the noise was horrendous! Hal had at least 10 loads that would shoot around 1/2" at 100 yards from the scoped gun.
However I was not using it. The particular Dominator I was carrying had been won at an Outstanding American Handgunner's Banquet in Reno, Nevada by my good friend Marlin Davis. It was a door prize and he walked away with it. Built in .44 Magnum it proved to be very accurate. Marlin had it set up on an Essex frame with a Bushnell 3X scope on it. I figured I might as well kill a deer with it. My handloads pushed the 300 gr. Freedom Arms Heavy Jacket Hard Core bullets at over 1600 fps from the Dominator. Recoil was handled by an SSK Muzzle Brake that JD Jones had installed for me. (and it worked well!)
And so Dad and I rode off into the hills in search of game. The first day we rode the canyons and worked our way down into lower ground. We saw Mule Deer and some Whitetail at a distance, but never anything within stalking range. We fell asleep that night tired and sore but eager for the next day.
The morning of the next day we worked around some large hills and climbed up back toward the high country. We were riding up a small valley and I was in the lead when I spotted deer moving up the hillside in front of us on our right. There were at least 4 buck .. Whitetail! I signaled Dad and jumped off my horse, slipping my right arm through the reins as I unlimbered the Dominator.
I found the deer in the scope at about the time the horse snorted, though I did not pay him any mind, concentrating on the deer. I pushed the frame safety off and accidentally wiped the Dominator safety on (it worked in the opposite direction of the Colt-type safety). Lining up on a deer I pulled the trigger and was rewarded with a CLICK! Fumbling and mumbling I got the safety off, lined up on the now-moving deer and jerked the trigger, missing the deer. And suddenly realized that I was standing there with an empty gun! I had violated my own rule.. Never Hunt With An Unfamiliar Gun!
If I had my sixgun I would have just eared the hammer back and tried again. As it was I had to think "How do I unload this sucker?" and "Where is the ammo?"... and while fumbling and jerking around I accidentally smacked Hud in the nose with my elbow. The Appaloosa was some upset already and at that indignity went to running backwards, dragging me along. I distinctly remember the cactus... that stayed with me. I faintly heard Dad's gun go off. I had my hands full for a few minutes and was not paying a lot of attention to what was going on any place else around me.
When we got things settled down I worked my way back up to where Dad was. He was standing there with his old Marlin.30-30 in his hands. I asked him if he got one and he said he had shot one just after the horse dragged me past him. I tied up the nag to a tree and climbed up the mountain. About 90 yards up lay one of the purtiest Coues Deer to ever come out of this part of the hills. Dad had nailed him with one shot - ofhand - at over 100 yards.
I don't remember the load but Dad got it from Paco. It was a Nosler 125 gr. bullet I believe... running pretty fast. I know I have seen Dad take Mule Deer cleanly at over 200 yards with this load. It did a nice job on deer at any rate.
I cleaned the deer, then tied it on the gentle old mare for the trip home. I was tired of fighting the Appaloosa and figured I would lose if I did. I lead the mare with the deer on her and Dad rode Hud. After we got back to the corral and unloaded the horses Dad did remark that riding Hud was like driving an old wore out truck that had no shock absorbers.
This was the last Deer Hunt for Dad in the West. We moved to Missouri a few years later. Dad did not hunt anymore and about 2 years after we moved, he moved to Missouri also. These days Dad does not get out to hunt anymore. But we have some great memories to draw on. I am thankful for the great Coues Deer he took. It made the hunt all the more memorable.