“That was not a roe deer. Not with those antlers.” I quipped as a large set of tall, multi-tined palmate antlers seemingly floated just above and behind a rock wall. I glanced at Stefan Bengtsson, my outfitter, guide, fellow wildlife biologist, and more importantly, friend. He grinned. “That had to have been a fallow buck, unless it was an exceptionally palmate red stag.”

“You are very observant, my long-way-from-Texas compadre!” he countered. “Hmmm… I like compadre. I learned the word while Sofia and I were at the DSC Convention a few years ago.”

Now it was my turn to smile and nod. “You didn’t tell me you had really big fallow bucks in this area?”

“They’ve been here for many, many years,” Stefan replied. “Brought to Sweden and Denmark probably around the same time they were introduced to Britain by the invading Normans in the 11th century. As you probably know, fallow deer originally hail from the central and eastern Mediterranean. There are two subspecies of dama dama: European and Persian fallow deer. They look similar, but the European strain tends to have somewhat larger palmate antlers than the Persian subspecies.” Stefan continued, “Based on fossil records, fallow deer first appeared in Europe during the middle pleistocene, which began around 2.6 million years ago. So, they’ve been around for quite some time.”

“The Normans and other invaders brought herds of fallow deer with them. Some were kept in enclosures, others were released to populate newly conquered lands, providing future food for soldiers and settlers alike,” Stefan continued. “Some believe fallow deer were moved to new areas by humans as far back as 9,000 years ago.”

“Yes sir, I’ve seen them on ranches throughout Texas, a few other states, in New Zealand, southern Africa, Australia, and of course, several European countries. I’ve noticed some fallow deer are pure white, others are dark brown, almost black, and many are brownish with white spots. I’ve primarily seen the latter here in Europe.” I quickly asked, “Is the fallow deer hunting season open?”

“No, it opens later in the year. I guess you’ll have to come back in the fall” said my friend, who with his wife Sofia — also a professional wildlife biologist — owns and operates Scandinavian Prohunters, which I consider the finest hunting operation in Europe for big game, waterfowl, and pheasants.

At the time, I was hunting roe deer in Sweden with Stefan and Sofia. I had previously hunted roe deer and red stag in Sweden, reindeer in Norway, Highland red stags in Scotland, and more than a few ducks with them. Sweden, through Scandinavian Prohunters, offers some of the finest waterfowl and pheasant hunting, as well as other game birds, in the world.

“Please book me for a fallow deer hunt. I’d love to hunt during their breeding season when the bucks are moving and vocal, making deep guttural grunts.” I knew such a hunt would be interesting, fun and successful in many ways. Stefan said we would handle the paperwork later that evening. “We’ll set it up for October, around the middle of the month. Does that work for you?” he asked. It did.

And that’s how I ended up in Denmark with Stefan and the local gamekeeper, Hans, on a huge estate hunting rutting fallow bucks in pouring rain. Pouring was an understatement, as it was a deluge of biblical proportions.

Our hunt plan was to still hunt through forests, along the edges of open glens, just into trees bordering planted fields, and weaving along the edge of deep cuts leading to the Baltic Sea. At the time, I was being filmed for my TV show, “DSC’s Trailing the Hunter’s Moon.” My cameraman, Dustin Blankenship, not only had to follow us over hill and dale but also had to keep his camera dry enough to record my hunt. He did an admirable job.

On the first day of the hunt, we saw does and younger bucks, but no older, mature bucks with tall, wide, and widely palmate antlers. By day’s end, after walking several miles in the heavy rain, we were all soaked despite wearing the finest rain gear available.

That night at Stefan and Sofia’s place, after hot baths and a couple of glasses of “safe water,” we enjoyed a fabulous meal, topped off with “safe water” stirred into deliciously strong black coffee, while we reminisced about pursuing great stags, which we bested, and those that bested us.

As often happens in hunting camp, this time a palatial home over 400-years-old, it didn’t take long for the night to fall.

Shortly after first light, we were back in Denmark on the large estate where we had hunted the day before. The rain had not stopped, but it had at least slowed a bit for the time being.

The first buck we saw that morning was huge; with many tines, massive beams, and wide palmate antlers. He had so many points I kept losing count. I finally gave up trying to total them. His spread was enormous, and his overall antler height exceeded his shoulder height by at least three feet. Impressive!

I glanced at Stefan. He was shaking his head negatively. I knew that meant this was not a buck I would be shooting. My intention was to take a good, mature representative fallow buck for Denmark, one I wouldn’t have to mortgage my home to afford. On many European hunts, costs are based on antler or horn sizes — the larger the antlers or horns, the higher the price tag. Stefan had explained to the gamekeeper the type of buck I was looking for and could afford.

After seeing and glassing the monster buck, we spotted numerous other bucks and does. One buck’s antlers looked good, but he was young. Most European hunting lands and wildlife populations are properly, if not intensively, managed. Only specific bucks and certain does are harvested to maintain a healthy deer herd or herds if several species are present on the same property.

We stopped under an ancient tree when the rain started falling hard again. It reminded me of some oak trees I grew up around in Texas. From there, we spotted a buck that made Hans smile. Clearly, he appeared to be the size and age I was looking for. After a couple more looks at the deer, Hans indicated that I should load a Hornady 180 gr SST round into my 300 Win Mag Ruger rifle.

Earlier, shooting at the bench at 100 meters on Stefan’s range, I had placed three shots in a tight cloverleaf in the X-ring. With my rifle and Hornady ammo, I felt comfortable taking a long shot, but if possible, I hoped to stalk within 100 yards or less before shooting.

Bent at the waist, the gamekeeper started walking toward the buck. I followed in a similar fashion, as did Stefan and Dustin. No sooner had we started than it began raining heavily again. The rain was so intense that the gamekeeper stood upright and quickly walked into the wind to reduce the distance. When the rain worsened, the buck took cover under a huge tree.

We stopped 70 yards away from him. As we did, the wind increased dramatically. The gamekeeper set up shooting sticks and then told Stefan to instruct me to shoot the buck when a clear shot presented itself. I quickly got into position on the sticks. However, the strong wind made it difficult to stay on target even with the sticks. I sat down and repositioned the shooting sticks but immediately realized I couldn’t see the buck above the tall, waving underbrush.

I stood up, repositioned the shooting sticks, and asked Stefan to stand next to me and support my right elbow. Once he did, I was rock solid on the buck.

Looking through the scope, his antlers appeared really big. I looked at Stefan and the gamekeeper. The one overseeing the hunting and taking of specific animals on the property said, “Shoot!” With the crosshairs settled on the buck’s shoulder, I moved the safety from safe to fire, let out the remaining breath in my lungs, and started applying pressure on the trigger.

At the shot, the buck disappeared, falling to the ground. I chambered another Hornady round and tried to find him in my scope. I couldn’t see his body, but I did see the tip of his right main beam just above the tall, waving underbrush.

Approaching the buck, his antlers and body grew larger with each step. Stefan was smiling. I glanced at the gamekeeper and saw a questioning, then a pained look on Hans’ face. The closer we got, the bigger the fallow deer appeared.

At the buck’s side, I looked again at the gamekeeper. His face showed concern. I also noticed my buck likely weighed around 300 pounds, compared to the typical 200 pounds for a normal fallow buck. His body had made his antlers look merely good and representative. Now, standing next to him, I realized I had shot a monstrous buck, in both body and antlers.

Hans stared at the ground, shook his head several times, then turned to face me with a smile and extended a congratulatory hand. I shook his hand and then Stefan’s. After showing proper respect for the deer taken, which I truly appreciate, we did a few television tasks and then prepared to photograph my buck.

When Stefan kneeled by my side for photos, he explained the conversation he and Hans had while Dustin and I completed the TV things. “Your buck has a huge body, so big it made his antlers look smaller than they actually are. As you know, his antlers are huge, bigger than our objective. Hans told you to shoot the buck and not to worry about the antlers being larger than expected. Enjoy and relish the moment.” I did! And I still do every time I look at the photos of my buck.

I had a European skull mount made of my buck and left it with Stefan. Later, I told him and Sofia that doing so would require an open invitation for me to occasionally visit my Denmark fallow buck.

Thinking about that fallow buck and vividly remembering that hunt, I believe it’s time for me to return to Sweden and Denmark.

Photo credit: Larry Weishuhn Outdoors