The Legend of Old Crooked Horn, “...

This story “Outdated Crooked Horn” was initially printed within the September 1982 concern of Outside Life.

The massive mule deer buck was mad. He wheeled, lowered his head and charged Vaughn Wilkins, who was atop a inexperienced broke colt. 

The sight of that massive, imply buck crashing head-on towards Vaughn was greater than his nervous colt may stand. Vaughn was plumb scared, too. The massive buck we referred to as Crooked Horn knocked sunflowers each which means as he got here flying alongside. 

The colt spun round and bolted, and I don’t assume Vaughn tried too arduous to cease him. The buck stored up the assault and chased Vaughn and his colt into thick timber on the fringe of the patch. Lastly Crooked Horn backed off and disappeared into the comb. 

It was opening morning of Utah’s deer season. 9 of us had simply ridden horse­again by means of the sunflower patch the place we knew Crooked Horn frolicked. We noticed his contemporary tracks however couldn’t bounce him. That’s when Vaughn volunteered to actually bust up the sunflower patch on his colt. 

We have been fairly assured the buck was within the space, as a result of he laid declare to the 300-acre deserted farm subject a couple of month earlier than the season. I had seen him a number of occasions within the space, and I couldn’t watch for deer season to open. 

Vaughn’s technique was easy. We might scatter exterior the tall sunflowers and take up positions whereas he tried to leap the cautious buck. He left his gun with one of many boys as a result of he couldn’t shoot off his inexperienced broke colt, and if he dismounted rapidly, he wouldn’t be capable of see the buck due to the excessive sunflowers. 

As luck would have it, Vaughn jumped Crooked Horn far up the patch and out of our sight. The chase was on as Vaughn scrambled after the buck, attempting to haze him down the fieId towards us. Lastly, Crooked Horn had been crowded too shut by Vaughn and his colt. The deer made a fast 180-tum and headed straight for the startled horse and rider. 

The drama was over by the point we rode up the sector, aside from the mud that was nonetheless billowing round. Vaughn was strolling by means of the weeds, searching for his hat that had flown off through the melee. 

“You missed fairly a trip,” Vaughn mentioned. “If I used to be in a rodeo, I’d have received prime prize. No means was I going to go away that saddle whereas that loopy buck was round.” 

“Too dangerous you didn’t have your rifle,” somebody mentioned. 

“Yeah,” Vaughn answered. “That buck was so shut he’d of had powder bums if I may’ve hit him from that buckin’ colt.” 

Vaughn discovered his hat, beat the mud off it and climbed again on his horse, nonetheless shaking his head in disbelief. 

We combed the sunflowers the remainder of the day, however couldn’t tum up the buck. The sto­ry was the identical the remainder of the season. We hunted long and hard, however couldn’t discover a hint of him. He merely disappeared. 

Two days after the season ended, I noticed Crooked Horn again within the sunflower patch. The massive deer grazed alongside as if he knew he was secure. In the meanwhile, he was, however I’d be after him subsequent 12 months. 

The primary time I ever laid eyes on Crooked Horn, he was ingesting from a sandbar alongside the Inexperienced River in late summer time of 1959. Considered one of his antlers had a pure five-point unfold, however the different grew straight sideways from his head at a 90° angle. It was about 35 inches lengthy and had 5 factors protruding at common intervals. As a result of the horn was so freakish, I judged the surface unfold to be greater than 45 inches. 

I ought to clarify my credentials to have estimated the buck’s antlers at such a formidable width. I used to be born and raised on a ranch on the Leota Bottoms, subsequent to the Ute Indian Reservation in northeast Utah. I’ve been a hunter all my life, and killed my share of big bucks. I knew the river bot­toms in addition to anybody, and discovered the place the massive bucks lived. This buck, which I named Crooked Horn, was not solely the weirdest deer I’d ever seen, however, as I’d quickly be taught, the neatest. 

As quickly as I noticed him, I assumed concerning the massive buck contests that scored deer by the widest antler unfold. A variety of sporting ­items shops in Utah gave away costly prizes for the most important buck. A 40-inch out­facet unfold was often required to be con­sidered within the contests. I knew Crooked Horn could be means up within the working, and doubtless the first-place winner. I may pic­ture myself profitable one of many four-wheel­drive autos that have been prime prizes, or no less than a brand new Winchester rifle. 

I spent on a regular basis I may between ranch chores finding out Crooked Horn’s habits and the locations he frequented. I famous that he shied away from heavy timber, squaw bush and different locations that impeded his journey. His extensive antlers merely couldn’t match by means of these tight spots. He bedded down in patches of sunflowers, younger willows or different areas that had pliable crops however nonetheless supplied concealment. 

The nearer deer season approached, the larger Crooked Horn regarded. His antlers appeared even wider when he scraped off the velvet. 

I watched for him all day and dreamed of him all evening. I used to be so excited and assured I’d get him that I signed up in big-buck con­exams from Vernal, Utah, to Las Vegas, Nevada. 

A bunch of us, all associates, had hunted collectively for years. Every season the boys would collect earlier than the opener and inform tall tales on the ranch home. This 12 months, I used to be nervous as an alley cat, and couldn’t appear to get into the merriment and festive temper. I needed to take Crooked Horn very badly and didn’t inform the boys about him. Some­how, I needed to get away from the group in order that I may hunt alone. There have been some crack photographs in our celebration; every of the lads had loads of big-buck racks nailed to his barn. Any of them may simply sufficient bust Crooked Horn earlier than I’d have an opportunity. 

I couldn’t sleep a wink the evening earlier than the opener. I tossed and turned and listened to the horses as they snorted and whinnied within the corral. The broncs knew what was arising within the morning. We’d been working them arduous, driving backwards and forwards by means of the thickets alongside the river. 

Lengthy earlier than first gentle, we gathered and deliberate our hunt. I feel a few of the boys grew suspicious of me, as a result of I by no means made any options or volunteered any details about our methods. That was uncommon, as a result of I used to be roughly the chief of the group. 

To hunt the river bottoms, essentially the most suc­cessful technique is to make drives on horse­again. As a result of I used to be most aware of the world, the lads relied on me to plan the drives. I used to be fairly certain I knew the place Crooked Horn was, so we hunted in one other space. That outdated buck was going to be my trophy. 

Looking was truthful that day. A number of of the boys killed good bucks. I hadn’t deliberate on it, however I had a very good probability at a giant buck and handed it up. The deer would have been a simple shot, however Crooked Horn was foremost in my thoughts. The boys knew for certain then that one thing was fishy. It wasn’t like me to let a giant buck go by. A few of them guessed I used to be ready for a particular deer to indicate. 

“Why didn’t you kill that massive 5 level?” one in every of them requested as they gathered round. “Lew, you ain’t been actin’ proper. You’ve received one thing up your sleeve.” 

“Alright, fellers,” I mentioned. “Guess I’ll inform you, though I’ll admit I wasn’t going to. There’s an unbelievable buck within the bot­toms. He’s the most important I’ve ever seen in my life, and I type of needed a crack at him alone. His rack is freak, and I’m certain it’ll go virtually 4 foot extensive, exterior unfold.” 

“Holy mackerel,” somebody mentioned. “That buck will win a Jeep in one of many Salt Lake Metropolis big-buck contests.” 

“I’m certain of it,” I admitted, “so let’s go get him. I do know the place he’s.” 

I felt just a little higher after the confession. It had been robust holding my secret in, espe­cially as a result of we have been all friends. 

We figured a plan for morning. Crooked Horn had been feeding in a meadow, so I deliberate to chop his tracks and discover out for certain the place he was. It could be simple to find him, as a result of he had tracks not like every other I’d ever seen. As a result of he couldn’t get into the softer floor of the thickets on account of his extensive antlers, he spent most of his time on the sand alongside the river. The sand wore his hooves in such a means there was no lacking them. They didn’t put on and break off like regular hooves, however have been longer and flat-sided. 

Positive sufficient, the buck’s tracks have been the place I anticipated them the subsequent morning, and so they have been contemporary. 

Our celebration unfold out and labored by means of the comb. I cheated just a little and stayed on the surface as a result of I knew Crooked Horn wouldn’t go far into the comb — not with these handicaps on his head. 

A few little two-points jumped however we allow them to go. Crooked Horn’s tracks led us to the river. The ornery cuss had crossed it, however we couldn’t comply with him as a result of the water was too deep for our horses. We rode again to our pickup vans and loaded the horses, then drove to the little Indian settle­ment of Ouray the place we may cross the river on the bridge. Then we in the reduction of to the place Crooked Horn ought to have climbed out of the water. 

The buck hadn’t come up onto the shore in any respect. He’d simply waded alongside the river and walked out onto a small island that was thick with timber and bordered by a grove of younger willows. I checked and double­ checked, and was constructive he was nonetheless on the island, until he had swum off into deep water, however I doubted it. I used to be excited, extra excited than I’d been on my very first hunt years in the past. It regarded as if we had the massive buck cornered. 

Proper off the bat I knew Crooked Horn needed to be in these younger willows. We tied the horses on the mainland and left Colin, who was among the finest riflemen round, to observe a sport path that the buck may use if we jumped him. The remainder of us went again to the higher finish of the island, and made the drive afoot. 

I’ve received at hand it to that buck—he stayed tight till we have been virtually on prime of him. And when he made his break, he was quick and clean. Crooked Horn tore down the path, touring at a full head of steam, and headed straight for Colin. Colin couldn’t shoot as a result of we have been within the line of fireside behind the buck, so he figured he may bounce on his horse and outrun the deer. In addition to, he needed to get off that path pronto, as a result of the buck was bearing down on him, exhibiting no worry in any respect. Colin jumped into the comb to the place he had hid­den his horse and tried to mount him. 

Perhaps the horse noticed the wildly racing deer, or possibly he sensed Colin’s excite­ment. Anyway, he shied away, and Colin couldn’t get into the stirrups and swing up quick sufficient. By the point he received up all he may see was Crooked Horn as he crashed into the timber together with his head turned facet­methods and the freak horn laying again alongside­facet the buck’s ribs. Colin and his horse gave the deer a very good chase, however by no means noticed him once more. 

We gathered our horses and rode over to satisfy Colin. He was sick! The largest buck he had ever seen may have been his if he’d stayed alongside the path and shot as a substitute of going for his horse. Crooked Horn had whisked by him solely about eight ft away. 

”What a buck,” Colin mentioned as if he have been in a daze. “What a buck. You have been proper, Lew. That’s the most important buck in Utah.” 

For the remainder of the season we looked for the massive buck and his tracks, however we couldn’t discover him. He was mendacity low. The season closed with no hint of him. I anxious that he might need been killed by poachers or different hunters, however I noticed him quickly after the season was over. I used to be mighty glad he was nonetheless alive. 

The next 12 months he gave us the slip after Vaughn chased him across the solar­flower patch. 

In 1961, the U.S. Bureau of Sport Fish­eries and Wildlife got here into the world and began shopping for up land alongside the river to ascertain the Ouray Nationwide Wildlife Ref­uge. The federal government closed the grounds to looking. We had solely a 50-50 probability of discovering Crooked Horn, as a result of a lot of the river-bottom space the place he lived was off ­limits. 

I had been seeing the buck in the identical patch of brush. His freakish horn regarded even longer than earlier than. When the season opened, the boys and I looked for the deer, however we couldn’t discover his signal within the space that was nonetheless open to looking. The solar­flower patch was within the open looking zone, however it had rained arduous the evening earlier than the opener, obliterating the tracks. We determined to hunt elsewhere, and left Crooked Horn in peace. 

Ralph Chew, an old-timer who hadn’t been looking with us earlier than, had heard all of the tales about Crooked Horn. By now the tales have been attending to be terrible massive tales. He determined to attempt for the phantom buck. 

Ralph strapped his sleeping bag on his again together with some grub and proceeded to search for Crooked Horn’s tracks. He closing­ly discovered them within the sunflower patch and even received a glimpse of the deer. 

Seeing the tracks was sufficient for Ralph. The hunter took to the path like a blood­hound, going sluggish and straightforward, stalking, cease­ping to hear, then shifting on. When evening got here, Ralph rolled out his sleeping bag alongside the contemporary tracks. By first gentle, he took to the tracks once more. Shortly after fol­lowing the tracks within the grey time earlier than daybreak, Ralph found that Crooked Horn had bedded down solely 100 yards from the place he had slept. The old-timer was elat­ed as a result of he was scorching on the path, however that elation turned to consternation when Ralph noticed that the sensible outdated buck had left his mattress and went to Ralph’s mattress. Crooked Horn was following him! 

Ralph began backtracking, however so did Crooked Horn. Irrespective of how arduous he tried, Ralph couldn’t spot the buck. 

That evening, Ralph got here into my ranch. He tossed his sweaty hat on the sofa and plopped right into a rocker. 

“That’s the wisest outdated buck I’ve ever seen,” he confessed. “Any deer that good deserves to reside perpetually. I’m giving him up, Lew.” 

Earlier than Ralph went out the door, he turned and grinned, “In a means, I’d certain like to set fireplace to that danged dried-up sunflower patch,” he mentioned. “Then that outdated buck wouldn’t have a sanctuary to cover in. However then once more, I’m glad these sunflowers are there.” 

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The boys and I hunted Crooked Horn by means of that season after Ralph gave up, however we by no means noticed the buck. As at all times, his tracks have been there to taunt us as we searched in useless. 

Earlier than one other looking season got here alongside, the federal authorities had purchased virtually all the bottom alongside the river for the refuge, together with the Leota Bottoms the place the sunflower patch was. The realm was closed to looking, and Crooked Horn wouldn’t have to fret about us any­extra. 

The final time I noticed the good buck was in late November 1964. He had a harem of does, and I hoped that he would cross on all his fantastic qualities to his fawns. 

As I watched him, I couldn’t assist however rejoice that he had stayed alive. I took off my hat and tipped it to him, after which rode away on the dusty path. I pulled my mack­inaw up round my neck and put the spurs to my horse. I turned for one final look, however Crooked Horn was gone. Chuckling a bit to myself, I knew he’d be headed for the outdated sunflower patch.