Britt

This story is about a friend of mine, Britt. At the time she had just moved from TX. So she did a decent amount of whitetail hunting, especially with an AR-15. Anyways, we became pretty good friends, so I invited her to go buck hunting with me on ranch. At the time, I had a light weight .300 WSM. We start into the timber, taking our time and being as quiet as possible. Well we get in there about half a mile and I see this buck looking straight at us. I knew it was nice buck, so I had Britt get in front of me to shoot him. At the crack of the rifle, I heard the thump of the little bullet smacking the deer right in the neck, but he turns around and takes off. I knew he was hit good, so we start following his blood trail, rifles at the ready in case he busted out. We didn't go but 100 yards before we see him again, so she takes a shot at him, and misses. Same thing happened the next shot. The 4th shot land high above the chest cavity and the 5th and final shot landed in front of the front shoulder. Old Bucky kept trotting along till he was just outside another patch of timber, stopped, and looked at us again. By that time, I had Britt saddle up behind the .300, and at the bark of the rifle, she fell flat on her ass. I didn't realize this because I was watching the buck, who looked like Derek Jeter had just hit a home run swing to his head. Anyways, she said something about how I should have told her it kicked and that I was a son of a bitch or bastard or something along those lines. Anyways I looked over and the first thing I noticed was the blood seeping out of her head. She has never forgiven for the scar the gun left her, and she probably never will. On the bright side, she was happier en heck.