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Chasing
the Axis
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Originally brought to Texas in the early 1930s, axis deer quickly became a staple on large, high fenced hunting ranches. Through escape and accidental release, the animal quickly established a healthy and flourishing population in the wild. Today axis deer are the most numerous free ranging exotic in Texas, in some places actually outnumbering the native whitetail deer. Although axis can be found throughout most of the southern and western portion of the state, the majority of the population is concentrated in what is known as the Hill Country.
This area of central Texas consists of rolling to steep grassy savannahs dotted with islands of live oak and other small trees. In the past few decades cedar has burned across the landscape, in some places forming almost impenetrable thickets. The landscape and the relatively mild temperatures (mild for Texas) that engulf it make the Hill Country the perfect environment for axis and other free ranging exotics such as sika, fallow, and blackbuck. But high numbers don’t necessarily make for an easy hunt.
Known as chital or spotted deer in its native India, axis are an extremely weary and shy animal. Its reddish brown coat dappled with white spots acts as the perfect camouflage in the dark recesses of cedar thickets, allowing it to seemingly disappear even during the brightest of days. This camouflage when combined with the deer’s occasional habit of remaining stationary when threatened or spooked makes it an extremely difficult animal to spot, let alone stalk. In the four three-day weekends I had hunted the Double H Ranch in-between Kerrville and Bandera, Texas I had seen several large herds of axis does and several immature bucks, but nothing even remotely resembling a fully mature buck. I began to wonder if there were any mature free range trophies on the ranch until Scott Bockhoff, the owner of the ranch, assured me that there were.
“I’ve seen a few nice ones that’ll go close to 30 inches,” Scott laughingly retorted. “Of course I saw ‘em with my truck headlights, driving through the place at night.”
Although hunting exotics at night with a spotlight is legal in Texas, this information didn’t inspire me or my hunting partner, Joel O’Shoney, any as we wanted to take an axis buck during daylight hours. In an effort to lift our spirits, Scott went on to explain the skittish nature of the axis that inhabit his nearly 400 acre ranch.
“It’s not that there aren’t any axis on the place, there’s plenty. I’ve seen herds of close to 200 animals in one of the lower fields several times. It’s just that they’re so skittish. I had a guy come out here with bait and drop nets trying to get them and he’s never gotten one.”
With the reassured knowledge that axis were always on the property somewhere, Joel and I made arrangements for a fifth attempt at a mature buck in mid May. Hopefully, the fifth time would be the charm.
After setting up our
Ameristep Doghouse temporary blind late Friday evening, Joel and I left the
ranch until morning. That night an unseasonable cold front pushed in,
blanketing the sky in low cloud cover, raising the humidity, and dropping
the temperature. Having hunted whitetail deer for years had taught me that
pitch black nights generally meant little, if any, deer movement for
whitetails. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, it meant for the notoriously
“skittish” axis of the Double H.
As the faint light of the shrouded sky pushed across the ranch, the field before us came alive with songbirds, a lone turkey, several dew covered whitetail doe, and a pair of raccoons playing games of chase in-between periods of feeding at the edge of a deep cedar thicket. Behind us we could hear the stirring and moaning of cattle while somewhere a peacock began calling.
“Hunting for axis with a peacock screaming in the distance,” I whispered to Joel. “It’s just like hunting in India. Real Jim Corbett type stuff.”
Not knowing the history of big game hunting in India, Joel’s only reply was, “Where’d the peacock come from? They free range as well?”
As the morning stretched on it seemed as though every species of animal on the ranch walked within the vicinity of the blind with the exception of axis. After nearly five hours of sitting, it was time to stretch our legs. We quietly exited the blind and made our way to the truck where we decided to try driving the ranch, glassing for axis. Our first stop was a high stretch of trees atop a steep mesa that overlooked the Guadalupe River.
Through the trees we could make out the washed piles of sun bleached limestone rocks that littered the banks and acted as small levies, holding small pools of water. Above the stones, thick riparian weeds and vines choked the eroded landscape and stretched forward in search of better soil and a better hold upon the earth. It was between these weeds and the steep edge of the mesa that Scott believed the axis traveled between fields and between properties. When later asked, Scott stated that he wasn’t sure what route the peacocks used.
With nothing but rocks and weeds to look at Joel and I were about to leave when a small brown flicker of movement caught my eye. Pulling my binoculars from around my shoulder I quickly focused in on the cause of motion. Nestled quietly beneath some tall growth was a dappled pattern of white and brown. Although difficult at first differentiate between a whitetail fawn and an axis, further study of the animal’s wide, block nose showed it to be an axis. Further study showed it to be a yearling.
“At least we’ve seen one,” Joel curtly commented.
As if on cue to respond to Joel’s cynicism, a trail of does appeared from some cover to the left of the lone yearling.
“Now we’re talking,” Joel continued as he knelt into shooting position with the hopes of a trophy male accompanying the lease of deer below us.
For close to an hour the group that grew in number to twelve ate quietly in the relatively protected area between the upper banks of the river and the steep bluff below. We had thought the group to be all female until it began to quietly saunter off, leaving me with a fleeting glimpse of a small buck pushing velvet spikes. Despite the fact that Joel and I each wanted to take a buck with “hard antlers” the sight of the buck in velvet did little to discourage us.
Unlike most species of deer, each axis buck seems to follow an individual reproductive cycle which may not be synchronized with other bucks in the herd. While one buck is coming into the rut another may be coming out. The same pattern, only multiplied, holds true for females, with each individual experiencing estrous several times a year. This reproductive cycle is similar to domesticated cattle and helps to account for the blitzkrieg type manner in which free range axis have spread across Texas.
With nothing left to look at, Joel and I made our way back to the truck for another attempt and finding a deer to stalk. For close to an hour we drove the ranch stopping ever so often to glue binoculars to our head in order to investigate a flicker of movement deep inside a thicket, what turned out to be just an odd shaped stump, or the next horizon. At the end of the hour the only set of antlers we had seen belonged to a sun bleached skull--not quite what we were looking for.
Having seen nothing and growing hungry from complaining about not seeing anything, Joel and I broke for lunch. Over a quick meal of cheese and cold cuts we discussed our afternoon plans and agreed that, despite seeing axis near the river, we would take Scott’s earlier advice by returning to our temporary blind that overlooked the field of graze.
“I’ve seen axis all over the place,” Scott had earlier stated. “But I’ve seen more on that field than anywhere else.”
With the decision of where to go established, Joel and I finished our lunch and made our way to the relative comfort of the blind. Unlike our previous visit to the ranch, the afternoon temperature was fairly cooperative, with the high only hitting around 78 degrees.
For two hours we again sat watching almost every species of wildlife on the ranch, sans axis, make its way past our blind. A small lease of whitetail does came through the field to feed, only to be startled and run off by a few errant Brahmas. Birds of all varieties landed for a quick feed before darting away to the safety of the thick stands of cedar, and somewhere unseen a peacock continued to let loose screams that mimicked a woman standing on a chair to avoid a mouse below her.
“Man, those things are loud,” I whispered.
“Sounds like something out of a horror show. I’d at least like to see one ohmyGodlookatthatthingmyGodsweet…” Joel’s whispered response quickly became a frantic outburst of incoherent but elated gibberish. His eyes grew wide and I noticed a small twinge run the length of his arms as he quietly reached for his rifle.
The source of his spastic giddiness was stealthily ebbing its way from around a far cedar break. As Joel leveled his rifle I grabbed my binoculars for a better look.
“Find him?” Joel stammered.
“Yeah,” I replied before jutting off a list of adjectives. “Tall. Old. Thick neck…”
Before I could finish the tall, old, thick necked male sauntered behind a nest of branches. Through a spider web of green conifer I could barely make out the animal’s rust colored coat as it stood on hind legs to eat from some of the higher branches.
“Come back out,” Joel sweated.
I quickly grabbed Joel’s Nikon 440 laser range finder, aimed for the imposing tree, and tried to remember which button to push. Apparently I hit the right one as a holographic number quickly appeared.
“That tree’s 237 yards away,” I reported.
“Doesn’t matter if he doesn’t come out from behind it,” Joel angrily countered.
Exchanging the range finder for my binoculars I scanned the small open spaces in the foliage for the feeding deer.
“The left,” Joel stated. “He’s coming out on the left.”
I flashed to the opposite side of the tangle of cedar just in time to see the buck exit the thicket. He was an old buck, his muzzle pale and grayed, with tall battered antlers and deep forks. Each step he took toward the next island of cedar was cautious and deliberate.
“Wish he’d stop,” Joel muttered, following buck with the Burris Fullfield 4x12 scope atop his Weatherby Vanguard. “Come on boy, stop.”
“He’s not gonna stop,” I rhetorically whispered, watching the axis methodically make his way to the next stand of trees.
“Shut up.”
The metallic click of the safety was immediately followed by the deafening report of the rifle and a sudden blast of air that slammed through the small confines of the temporary blind, shaking its thin fabric walls. Across the field the old patriarch jilted slightly before collapsing head first into a curtain of high grass. Joel chambered another round and exhibited the faint beginnings of a smile. He started to say something when his eyes told me something had gone wrong.
“What tha’,” Joel gasped, swinging his rifle to the left.
I turned back to the field just in time to see the hearty animal lunge forward into a tapestry of cedar.
“I hit him right in tha’,” Joel continued in disbelief.
“You did hit him,” I tried to reassure. “You got ‘em right above the front leg. Let’s just let him lay up. He can’t go that far.”
Joel agreed and for the next half hour we waited, the silence of the afternoon broken only by Joel’s whispered complaints and disbelief, and that darn peacock. At the end of the allotted time we slowly made our way across the field to search for Joel’s deer. With Joel having hit the animal with a well-placed shot from his .30-06, we had every reason to believe we would find the axis down within the thicket. But that wasn’t the case.
Within ten yards of the thicket, the silence of our approach was shattered by the crashing of limbs and the rapid shuffling of dead leaves and dirt. I could barely make out blurred movement through the gnarl of trees and undergrowth. Joel bolted sideways, snapped his rifle to his shoulder and fired hitting the runaway buck in the lower neck. The buck fumbled to the ground only to make a last attempt to get up. A third and final shot kept the animal down for good.
Despite the short disappearing act of the buck, the hunt proved to be a success with Joel’s free range axis pushing 26 plus inch tall antlers with an inside spread of 26 inches and an estimated weight of over 170 pounds. The worn enamel of the buck’s teeth told us he had been roaming freely for quite some time.
Author's note: I finally found that peacock.
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