So, being a good friend and trying to soothe Doug's now eternally bitter soul, I shared my findings with him and we submitted a group application for Wyoming pronghorn, each of us applying for a pair of tags.
Results were posted sometime in June and Doug’s luck had changed… we ended up drawing our second choice tags. Research began and as the hunt opened in October we felt like we had a least a couple of places where we could shoot a handful of pronghorn. Doug was able to make two trips to The Cowboy State before I was able to. During his first trip he was stopped glassing a large field and a local Sherriff stopped and talked to him. The Sheriff gave him the name and phone number of the property owner, and after a quick phone call Doug was granted permission to hunt the private property with the stipulation that he wait until after the deer hunt had closed.
So a week or so later, with permission in hand, Doug returned and was able to fill both of his tags in one morning. Once I was able to clear my schedule for an afternoon we again obtained permission to hunt the swath of private property and it was my turn to try and fill my tags.
We left northern Utah at about 12:30 and made the quick drive to our hunting area. The first herd of pronghorn that we saw was mostly bucks. We estimated maybe 30 head in that herd and I got my first taste of how quickly those critters get jittery and begin to shuffle around and move off into another county. We inspected a couple other agricultural fields before finding a herd that was in a prime location for a stalk. We parked the car and began closing the distance on this herd. I guess I surprised Doug because when we hit the creek bottom and lower field and were completely hidden from view of the pronghorn I began to run through the sagebrush. We reached the tree that we had made our reference point but I was unable to get into a good position for a shot. The herd soon became agitated and began to move off without a good clear shot ever presenting itself. We continued to pursue the herd because they were merely wandering up over the ridge, they were not running with the intent to leave the county.
As we reached the ridge a doe pronghorn came out and stood right in front of us at something like 180 to 200 yards. I tried to steady the crosshairs on her but ended up pulling the shot. Now the pronghorn were serious about getting out of there. We continued to work that ridge pushing a couple little herds around but never getting any quality opportunities to shoot. We reached the end of the ridge and stood at the top where the valley now opened up before us. It was a perfect vantage point and we were treated to a scene right out of a PBS Nature show on African plains animals. A herd of pronghorn a couple hundred strong stretched across the valley floor and halfway up the opposite side of the valley. The wind was bad and we were left to simply be awestruck as the entire herd worked its way across the valley floor and bedded in the sage on the opposite side.
We worked back towards the car and near the car we spotted a buck with two fawns feeding along a fenceline. We tried to close the gap without really trying, and the buck ended up splitting from the fawns and running across the road while the fawns stayed along the fenceline and skirted along in front of us. I kind of gave up on them and we made it back to the car.
We decided to go check out another field where Doug had killed one of his does about a week ago. When we arrived at the field there was a random smattering of cattle, mule deer, and pronghorn. We decided to try to use a small rise in the field to conceal our approach and we belly crawled through the cut alfalfa to as close as we felt we could. From a prone rest I steadied my rifle on the packs and took a bead on a bedded doe that was clear of any of the other animals. The trigger broke and nothing happened… I’d forgotten to put a round in the chamber, go figure. I fixed that little oversight and steadied again. This time the rifle came to life but the shot sounded strange… I thought that it sounded like the bullet had kind of squibbed through the grass in front of me. The herd of pronghorn stood and began to make their way in the opposite direction. I was able to get a second clear shot at the doe but again the shot sounded like it had hit the grass in front of me.
We decided to pursue the herd and took a direct line through the field. As we walked through the field the herd of cattle definitely took exception to our presence and began to follow us. They snorted and coughed and were right on our heels as we closed the gap on the pronghorn. It was mildly entertaining to see them get so agitated with us but at the same time it was a little bit unnerving. Because we had 50+ beef cows following us through the meadow any hopes of relying on stealth to get close to these pronghorn were gone. We turned back towards the car and as we reached the edge of the field the cows finally felt satisfied that they had triumphed over the intruders and went back to their beef cow lifestyles.
With about an hour of daylight left we decided to drive back towards the area where we made the stalk on the first herd. As we drove, we spotted hundreds of deer… and one very nice mule deer buck that we stopped and photographed. By this time I was ready to accept defeat and call it a night. We turned the car around and began to make our way back towards civilization.
Doug spotted two pronghorn feeding in an upper field and we soon identified them as the two fawns that we had seen earlier that day. In one last ditch effort as the sun began to set we parked the car and headed off across the creek bottom towards the two unsuspecting fawns. We picked out a tree as our first landmark and made it there quickly enough, then had to negotiate a barbed wire fence. I was worried about the fence, as we climbed it the wire creaked under our weight and I thought for sure it would give us away. Another twenty or thirty yards beyond the fence and I could tell we were running out of cover and should be getting very close. I caught a glimpse of white and tan…
I turned to Doug and mouthed “50 yards.” The fawn that was standing broadside to me looked up and right at me. It was now or never so I put the crosshairs right behind the shoulder and pulled the trigger. The fawn turned and ran and dropped just a couple steps later. The second fawn ran away but stopped and looked back for its companion. I took a couple of hasty off hand shots at the second fawn missing narrowly both times. The fawn then offered me a perfectly broadside shot. The cloud of dust and reaction of the animal gave me no indication of a hit so I began to fidget with by bullet pouch on my belt and shove new bullets into the magazine with the intent of further pursuing. As I close the bolt Doug says, “She’s going down.” Sure enough, I looked up in time to see the fawn begin running in small circles, a phenomenon that I’ve decided to call the “Pronghorn Death Spiral,” and topple over. We walked over to her to find the off hand shot when she was broadside was nearly perfectly placed.
In a matter of minutes and seconds I went from an admission of defeat to having two animals on the ground and both tags filled. We butchered quickly and stuffed all 8 quarters along with 4 backstraps and 4 tenderloins into my pack. As I lifted my fully loaded pack and put it on my back I began to laugh, I was packing two entire pronghorn fawns in one single trip and it all weighted less than the elk quarter that I packed out just a few weeks earlier!
I’m pleased with my success, and I’m excited to try out pronghorn meat. I’ve heard greatly mixed reviews on it ranging from the meat tasting like a fine delicacy down to not fit for dog food… so I’ll get my chance to make my own determination! We also had a great time picking up sheds from small mule deer bucks and even found a handful of pronghorn sheaths… with one sheath being from a very respectable buck that was considerably larger than any of the other sheaths we picked up. It was a fun “couple hour” hunt.
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