My #1 reason for hunting Pronghorn Antelope is the fact that the season opens a full month before that of the Minnesota whitetail. It’s a wonderful opportunity to get out there and do some hunting while one waits for the local deer to become legitimate targets. Reason #2 is that their flesh is more popular at our dining table than venison is, especially with my Redhead. That alone is reason enough to pack up my gear and head for the picturesque landscapes of SE Wyoming in pursuit of wily pronghorn.
Reason #3 for hunting goats is that the only thing this hunter enjoys more than eating antelope is photographing them, and the area around Douglas provides plenty of opportunity to do just that. This past season, the LeBar Ranch played host to our annual HBM Hunt Club expedition and we were treated to the excellent guidance of Mike Judd, the ranch’s Gamekeeper. Mike is a local Wyoming boy that knows his way around hunting the range and is extremely knowledgeable as well as being very intelligent and personable.
The first 2½ days were spent helping Mike serve the 14 other HBM members that were attending the Antelope Roundup. By Wednesday, most of them had filled out so Mike gave me the nod to begin my hunt that afternoon. We were setup at one of the ranch’s unique windmill blinds by 2:30 p.m. in a slab-wood structure that protects the machinery of the windmill; but also provides the perfect cover to conceal a ground blind.
The single downside of the setting is that the only vista is directly ahead, overlooking the waterhole and beyond. Mike, however, cleverly selected a blind with a zippered opening in the roof, which allowed me to stand and poke my head through the top of the blind providing a clear 360° view of the surrounding countryside. Experience quickly taught me that the antelope found nothing threatening about my big head poking out of the structure that they accept as a permanent part of the windmill. That first afternoon, the only animal that came into the waterhole was a shooter buck that caught me with camera in hand shooting Meadow Larks that bathed in the pond. It was the first afternoon so I didn’t even pick up my bow, but instead shot as many photos of the old goat as I could.
The next morning I was in the blind before sunrise, ready to lower the boom on the first Billy that wandered it for a drink. As I glassed the area at first light, I saw antelope all around me; all far away, but there, nonetheless. The waterhole is located in a shallow bowl that was perhaps a mile long and half a mile wide. The lowest part of the bowl was covered by high grass that had turned as brown as the surrounding pasture from a lack of rainfall. Were it not for the windmill with its rotary energy filling the waterhole, there probably would not have been and animal for a mile. But the area around the pond was green and prosperous thanks to the towering pump that noisily sucked the water from the deep recesses of the earth.
All day long I glassed a shooter buck on the south side of the bowl; it was so far away, I could barely see it with the naked eye. It would eat and then bed down; then it would rise, eat some more and bed down again. This went on until 4:30 pm when it finally headed across the bottom in the direction of the windmill. At times it completely disappeared into the tall grass, but then would magically reappear as it continued in my direction, albeit at a very slow pace.
Adrenaline began to pollute my system as I monitored the buck’s advancing progress from the skylight of the blind. When it was just about step out of the tall grass, I sat down, grabbed my crossbow with quaking hands and waited for it to appear in my shooting window. The antelope took its sweet time about it; apparently it was in no big hurry to die. When it came around the blind it walked quickly to the water’s edge and began taking long, noisy slurps of the refreshing liquid while providing me with a standing broadside shot.
I brought top reticule of the scope to the goat’s rib cage, steadied the bow by resting my elbows on my knees, then slowly squeezed the trigger until the bow noisily spit its projectile at the watering buck. The alert animal almost spun out of the way of the arrow, but the bow was too fast and the distance too short for it to make good its escape. The turning motion of the antelope caused the arrow to enter further back than intended, but because of the angle of the twisting body it exited further ahead having the same effect of a quartering away shot; it sealed the fate of the hapless pronghorn. It trotted about fifty yards, stopped and then collapsed within a few short minutes.
I waited until the head lay motionless then went to retrieve my vehicle. Once back at the blind, I took some photos, dressed the goat and then drug it to the water hole to wash it out. Once it was squeaky clean, I posed the critter, shot some photos of me with the goat using the camera’s 10 second timer. When I had the photos I needed, I took down the blind, packed my gear into the jeep, policed that area and then went to get Mike to help me transport the animal back to the ranch so that I could get it on ice ASAP. It had been a very good day. A very special thank you is extended to George LeBar and Mike Judd for their kindness and support in making this hunt and photo safari most memorable and productive by sharing the Lebar Ranch.