Boy throws stick, takes down 8-point buck

spectr17

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Boy meets eight-point buck on walk in the woods.

David Wecker/Cincinnati Post

12/15/01

Harvested, killed, silenced or slaughtered. Whichever verb you prefer, hunters in Kentucky, Ohio and Indiana dispatch more deer each year than the year before.

That's partly because more hunters keep getting into the game and partly because, according to Kentucky Division of Fish and Wildlife officials, the whitetail deer herds here are actually larger than they were when Lewis and Clark blew through this part of the country two centuries ago.

This year, for example, the deer death toll due to hunting is up roughly 20 percent in Ohio. As of Nov. 26, some 74,000 whitetails had been bitten by the bullet. Or arrow.

The story's the same in Kentucky and Indiana. Hoosiers expect to serve up some 6,000,000 pounds of venison in the process of knocking off 100,000 deer - while preliminary figures show that 94,674 Kentucky deer had been tagged and processed as of Nov. 30.

The weapons of choice for most deer hunters are the rifle, the black-powder musket and the compound bow. You don't hear of many hunters bagging a deer with a stick.

Which brings me to 11-year-old Josh Schoborg of Union, Ky. If anyone has a stranger deer-hunting tale to tell, I'd like to hear it. And Josh wasn't even hunting when it happened. His story puts me to mind of Davy Crockett, who ''kilt him a b'ar when he was only three.'' Except that Jason's older.

Josh is the son of Kim and Jim Schoborg. Josh's dad is a bowhunter with two trophies on the wall of his garage. Most of Josh's hunting experience had been confined to pestering rabbits and squirrels, until one Sunday morning a few weeks ago.

A steady rain was falling as Josh was walking the family dog, a Chesapeake Bay retriever named Taz, in the woods behind the house.

This particular tract abuts U.S. 42 not far from its intersection with 536. It features plenty of muddy hills, lots of creeks and a decent pond - just the sort of features to attract boys. Josh and his 13-year-old brother, Justin, spend a good deal of time there and are well-acquainted with the surroundings.

The way Josh describes it, he was walking along, minding his own business when he heard a commotion on a rise above him.

''I look up and here comes this big deer running down the hill at me,'' he says.

''It was an eight-point buck, a real big one. And he was jumping around, hopping, coming right at me. Taz about went crazy, and I didn't have time to think.''

Josh had heard the occasional stories of deranged bucks attacking humans, impaling them on their antlers. For a moment there, he thought he was a goner. The next few seconds were a blur. He remembers picking up a stick, flinging it as hard as he could at the deer.

''I wung it alright,'' he says, ''wung'' being the past tense of ''wing,'' a term he learned as a pitcher for Randy's Auto Body Little League team in Union.

Josh says the stick hit the deer in its abdominal zone. To his utter amazement, the deer veered off, bounced off a tree about 20 yards away, staggered into a cluster of weeds and dropped.

''I tried to drag it home with Taz' leash, but I couldn't budge it,'' Josh says.

''So I tied the leash to a little tree so it couldn't get away in case it came to. Then I ran home.''

Kim recalls Josh showing up at the back door, his eyes as big as hubcaps. She and her husband were skeptical at first. Jason has a reputation as a storyteller, after all. But he insisted. So his dad started up his four-wheeler.

''Five minutes later, they come back,'' Kim says, ''and Jim told me Josh got a deer all right. A nice one. Bigger than what Jim has hanging on the wall.''

A week later, the Schoborgs learned that a good-size buck had been hit on U.S. 42 a few days prior to Josh's adventure. Responding to a call of a deer-car crash, Boone County Patrolman Tim Adams had spent half an hour or so looking through the woods, only to turn up empty.

Josh supposes it was the same animal. He also supposes there's probably no way he could throw a stick hard enough to bring down a big eight-pointer. Still, it was sort of nice thinking he might have.


You can contact David Wecker at 352-2791 or via e-mail at sambets@choice .net
 

Thonzberry

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Great story,that will be one heck of a story around a campfire!
 

LadyHunter

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Strange stories do come out of my home state. Makes me wonder if the bourbon has anything to do with it. I almost got run over by a deer in my own backyard. It was spring and I decided to dig up one the dogwood trees to take to a friend and I took my dog with me into the the woods...BIG mistake! She caught wind of three does bedded down and she chased one of them right to me. The doe got within 15ft. of me before she saw me came to a screeching hilt and ran to the property line. I don't know who was more surprised me or her.
 


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