http://www.FarmCollector.com November 2018 27
Collecting antlers
In our area, it is not unusual to visit the farm home of
a longtime hunter and see a bunch (as few as three to as
many as a couple of dozen) mule deer antlers. Sometimes
you’ll see a few elk antlers. They may be placed somewhere
they can be seen; other times they are stored in an out-
building.
When experienced collectors collect and display antlers, it
isn’t a show of value. It’s just that antlers are about the only
part of the animal that can’t be eaten, and it just doesn’t
seem right to throw them away. Don’t confuse the antlers
in this discussion with those of trophy hunters who mount
their successes for all to see. At a farm or ranch, you are just
as apt to see mule deer spike buck antlers as a four- or five-
point rack.
Anyone who has spent a lifetime hunting elk or deer, as
this author has, can spend hours telling hunting stories. No
two hunters’ stories are the same. Most have some unusual
or humorous feature that was burned into the participants’
memories. We like to joke that “the first liar doesn’t have
a chance,” but that doesn’t mean the events related aren’t
true. It is just that most discussions start with some casual
observation about hunting and, as time goes by, the really
unusual experiences are brought up.
3- This illustration looks almost exactly like my brother and me
hunting mule deer in the 1960s and ’70s using his World War
II-era jeep. - Most deer and elk antlers salvaged by hunters are stashed in
a farm outbuilding. - This “Greetings From Idaho”postcard (published in 1950)
shows the timeless humor that surrounds the relationship be-
tween the hunter and the hunted.
The bulletproof buck
One of my unique deer antler stories has to do with a long
shot I took one morning at a big buck that was about as far
away as one would want to shoot. This was in open country
with no trees around. Happily, it appeared a clean kill was
made as the deer immediately fell to the ground. It took
quite a long time to cover the distance from where we were
to where it was. Much additional time was spent finding it
in the tall brush on the hillside. It is amazing how much the
color of a deer matches brush, which is everywhere.
Since I am really a “finder” instead of a hunter – hunters
don’t mind spending all day with no success, but I do – I
was happy I had my winter meat so I could go home and
do other things. The deer needed to be cleaned and then
carried a considerable distance to where we’d left the Jeeps.
As I approached the deer lying on the ground, it jumped up
and ran off as if nothing was wrong with it. I was shocked,
to say the least.
Our ironclad rule is, if possible, to never leave an animal
that we shot to die from its wounds. The hunter has an ob-
ligation to track it down and put it out of its misery. That
meant that for the rest of the day, I tracked the big buck.
Late in the afternoon, I succeeded in dropping him for a
second time. This time he was dead.
An examination of the carcass didn’t indicate the buck
had been hit other than by the shot that killed him. It wasn’t
until later we discovered that my morning shot had hit him
solidly at the base of one of his antlers. The lead from the
bullet was still there. Apparently the impact had knocked
him out and when I got to him he regained consciousness,
jumped up and ran away.Finding the humor in hunting
Hauling home an animal as large as a full-grown mule deer
is difficult; hauling an elk is even more so. In the early part
of the 20th century, automobiles and small trucks had sepa-
rate fenders that dead deer could be tied onto. Today, people
who have pickups with cargo boxes are ideally equipped for
the job. Between those extremes are regular cars and handy
small Jeeps.
Hauling a deer home strapped to the vehicle’s hood has
become almost a caricature of the whole process. For fun,
some individuals just can’t resist the temptation to reverse
the roles of the hunter and the hunted in images of game
transport.
The “Greetings From Idaho” postcard accompanying this
article, produced in the early 1950s, shows a 1947 Crosley.
Crosleys are little American-made cars that some people find
amusing because of their small size. The driver looks some-
what like an elk; the human body tied to the hood appears
to be deceased.