“The Mountains” On Seeing Deer
“And I don’t see how you can ever bear to shoot them.”
“Don’t you?” said I. “Well; suppose you’ve been climbing a mountain late in the afternoon when the sun is on the other side of it. It is a mountain of big boulders, loose little stones, thorny bushes. The slightest misstep would send pebbles rattling, brush rustling; but you have gone all the way without making that misstep. This is quite a feat. It means that you’ve known all about every footstep you’ve taken. That would be business enough for most people, wouldn’t it? But in addition you’ve managed to see everything on that side of the mountain - especially patches of brown. You’ve seen lots of patches of brown, and you’ve examined each one of them. Besides that, you’ve heard lots of little rustlings, and you’ve identified each one of them. To do all these things well keys your nerves to a high tension, doesn’t it? And then near the top you look up from your last noiseless step to see in the brush a very dim patch of brown. If you hadn’t been looking so hard, you surely wouldn’t have made it out. Perhaps, if you’re not humble-minded, you may reflect that most people wouldn’t have seen it at all. You whistle once sharply. The patch of brown defines itself. Your heart gives one big jump. You know that you have but the briefest moment, the tiniest fraction of time, to hold the white bead of your rifle motionless and to press the trigger. It has to be done very steadily, at that distance, - and you’re out of breath, with your nerves keyed high in the tension of such caution.”
“The reason I can bear to kill deer is because, to kill deer, you must accomplish a skillful elimination of the obvious.”
Now of course she did not see. Nobody could see the force of that last remark without the grace of further explanation, and yet in the elimination of the obvious rests the whole secret of seeing deer in the woods.
In traveling the trail you will notice two things: that a tenderfoot will habitually contemplate the horn of his saddle or the trail a few yards ahead of the horse’s nose, with occasionally a look about at the landscape; and the old-timer will be constantly searching the prospect with keen understanding eyes. Now in the occasional glances the tenderfoot takes, his perceptions have room for just so many impressions. When the number is filled out he sees nothing more. Naturally the obvious features of the landscape supply the basis for these impressions. He sees the configuration of the mountains, the nature of their covering, the course of their ravines, first of all. Then if he looks more closely, there catches his eye an odd-shaped rock, a burned black stub, a flowering bush, or some such matter. Anything less striking in its appeal to the attention actually has not room for its recognition. In other words, supposing that a man has the natural ability to receive “x” visual impressions, the tenderfoot fills out his full capacity with the striking features of his surroundings. To be able to see anything more obscure in form or color, he must naturally put aside from his attention some one of another of these obvious features. He can, for example, look for a particular kind of flower on a side hill only by refusing to see other kinds.
If this is plain, then, go one step further in the logic of that reasoning. Put yourself in the mental attitude of a man looking for deer. His eye sweeps rapidly over a side hill; so rapidly that you cannot understand how he can have gathered the main features of that hill, let alone concentrate and refine his attention to the seeing of an animal under a bush. As a matter of fact he pays no attention to the main features. He has trained his eye, not so much to see things, as to leave things out. The odd-shaped rock, the charred stub, the bright flowering bush do not exist for him. His eye passes over them as unseeing as yours over the patch of brown or gray that represents his quarry. His attention stops on the unusual, just as does yours; only in his case the unusual is not the obvious. He has succeeded by long training in eliminating that. Therefore he sees deer where you do not. As soon as you can forget the naturally obvious and construct an artificially obvious, then you too will see deer.
You will see many deer thus from the trail, - in fact, we kept up our meat supply from the saddle, as one might say, - but to enjoy the finer savor of seeing deer, you should start out definitely with that object in view. Thus you have opportunity for the display of a certain finer woodcraft. You must know where the objects of your search are likely to be found, and that depends on the time of year, the time of day, their age, their sex, a hundred little things.
Perversely enough the times when you did not see deer are more apt to remain vivid in your memory than the times when you did. I can still see distinctly sundry wide jump-marks where the animal I was tracking had evidently caught sight of me and lit out before I came up to him. Equally, sundry little thin disappearing clouds of dust; cracklings of brush, growing ever more distant; the tops of bushes waving to the steady passage of something remaining persistently concealed, - these are the chief ingredients often repeated which make up deer-stalking memory. When I think of seeing deer, these things automatically rise.
One morning, happening to walk over a slashing of many years before in which had grown a strong thicket of white popples, I jumped a band of nine deer. I shall never forget the bewildering impression made by the glancing, dodging, bouncing white of those nine snowy tails and rumps.
But most wonderful of all was a great buck, of I should be afraid to say how many points, that stood silhouetted on the extreme end of a ridge high above our camp. The time was just after twilight, and as we watched, the sky lightened behind him in prophecy of the moon.
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Ramblings and thoughts of a modern-day hunter? Surely I think not but it could be although a rare find.
My good friend and chief photographer for Skinny Moose Media, Milt Inman, discovered a book in a pile of what looked more like trash than treasure while browsing a yard sale not that long ago and came upon a book looking old, faded and frail. The book had a friend and found a new home.
“The Mountains” by Stewart Edward White just might be a modern-day treasure looking for a reading deer hunter to inspire. White is the author of other books; “The Blazed Trail”, “Silent Places”, “The Forest” and others. “The Mountains” is illustrated by Fernand Lungren and was published by McClure, Phillips & Company of New York in 1904.
Over one hundred years have passed since White moved about the trail looking for deer. What has changed? That really depends upon who might be reading the book. For me, it could have very well be written today, with the exception of the use of certain words and terminology of its day. For others the tactics described would be ancient history, something that happened in an era long ago passed by.
I think not! You see, I’ve never been one to hide out in a ground blind or sit uneasily in a tree stand. For those who do, the accounts described above could just as easily been written in ancient Greek. It would have as much meaning.
All too often in the so-called modern era of deer hunting, nearly every article written or hunting tip given focuses on blinds, tree stands, scents, lures, calls and about every assorted gimmick and gadget ever invented and those yet to come. The art of tracking doesn’t seem to be practiced as readily as it did once but I can attest that it’s not dead.
I discussed this book some with Milt before I confiscated it and he brought to my attention that much of what White writes about in this book is similar to what a family of big buck deer hunters from Vermont talks about and spends time each year trying to teach to other hunters.
The Benoits all grew up in Vermont. There’s Larry the father and sons Lanny, Lane and Shane. They love to deer hunt and their passion is tracking down big bucks. As they say, the proof is in the pudding and if you look at the success these guys have had, you cannot deny that they must know more about the art of tracking than the average deer hunter.
A couple years ago, Milt and I traveled to the far reaches of Northern Maine to a small town called Allagash to attend a Benoit Brothers’ Big Buck Tracking School. I wanted to cover the event as a writer and I took Milt along to take pictures and to use his perspective on issues.
There were two things the Benoits emphasized all during their instruction - shooting and tracking. Shooting is obvious. As Lanny pointed out and as White points out in his book over a hundred years ago, you have a very brief moment to “hold the white bead on your target” and shoot. But, Lanny further points out that if you have been successful enough to “eliminate the obvious”, as White describes it, you’ll have perhaps as much as a split second to react and shoot. If you can’t shoot, the hard work leading up to the shot is all for not.
The second aspect is the one White writes about in knowing the obvious and removing it from what the mind takes in and sees. If you can accomplish such, you will see deer. The Benoits often talk about learning what a big buck will do. This begins with an understanding of where to find the big deer, taking into consideration all factors. You pick up a track and follow it. You have to learn and know your area, the terrain, escape routes, etc. and you have to recognize from the track what the deer is thinking, know his habits and use this to eliminate the obvious.
There will be mistakes. That’s how we learn, that is if we are willing to learn from our mistakes and apply them to the next outing. The more seasoned we become the more we will be able to remove from our visual all the obvious things - the rock, the tree, the flowering shrub, etc.. Then, once our minds are trained to know what to look for and how to apply all the information being processed, our success rate will go up. We will turn seeing no deer into seeing deer and in turn taking deer.
I agree with Milt, now that I’ve read that section of the book. Almost every aspect of what Stewart Edward White wrote about over one hundred years ago still applies today and accurately describes the Benoits methods they employ in tracking down monster bucks.
Tom Remington
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Posted on Monday, February 11th, 2008
Under: Deer Hunting, Hunting Education, Hunting Tips, Book Reviews | 26 Comments »
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