Fallow Deer Hunting:

Fair Chase Fallow

Ever tried fallow deer hunting?

Deer hunting can become pretty samee-same. That is, if you chase the same old whitetail or mule deer all the time.

There are other deer species, though, running wild in small pockets and enclaves. To hunt them, you have to learn new skills and techniques that go along with the new challenges.

“New challenges,” I snorted to myself. “I’ve got your challenges.”

I was hunkered down, waiting while by buddies Shorty and George staged a two-man drive. If all went well, the fallow buck we’d spotted three days ago would come from the right, offering a clear 60-yard shot. But this fallow deer was too smart for the likes of us. He’d caught the men’s’ scent, or heard them sneaking through the woods, and instead of coming down the creekbed in front of me, he’d circled around all of us and came in from behind me.

I heard a rustle of leaves just uphill from my hiding place and turned around---just in time to see the deer take off over the hill.

Fallow deer hunting fits amongst that group of exotic animals readily available to hunters. Normally thought of as hunting-preserve animals, they are found free-ranging in several states that have open seasons on them, either from time to time or as a regular event.

We were fallow deer hunting for a full week at Land Between the Lakes---the TVA’s outdoor recreation playland that straddles the border in western Kentucky and Tennessee.

Fallow first came to what is now the Land Between the Lakes (LBL) through the efforts of some wealthy sportsmen. They’d once owned a large piece of property close to where we were hunting and in 1920 had imported a small herd. The fallow deer hunting turned out to be more of a challenge then those sportsmen had bargained for, and, in time, they abandoned the chase altogether. This left the fallow free to roam the meadows and hills of western Kentucky virtually unmolested. And they have ever since, increasing in numbers and widening their range. At least six other states have thriving free-ranging herds and allow fallow deer hunting. And many high-end hunting preserves have sizable herds as well.

So what makes fallow deer hunting such a challenge? Their unpredictability. You cannot pattern them like whitetails. For instance, when you’re scouting for possible fallow activity, old sign and tracks are the best indicators. Fallow rarely follow trails like other deer. Rather, they seem to wander without purpose over a wide area, sometimes waiting three to ten days before returning to a specific locale.

Fallow are grazers rather than browsers. More like beef cattle than deer, they prefer open meadows to heavily wooded hillsides and bottoms. To be sure, they’ll use those woods to pass from one field to another, as did my buck that got away. But trying to figure out when they will do that can be a major frustration when fallow deer hunting.

The evening we arrived at LBL we went scouting. Pulling off the road at twilight, we stopped beside a wheat field surrounded by trees on all four sides. From the edge of the trees we could see a group of fallow deer, mixed bucks and does, contentedly grazing at the far end of the field. Here was sure evidence that fallow frequented this spot. But if they were here this evening, when would they return again? We had a week to find out, and filed this area away for future consideration.

On the fourth day of our fallow deer hunting trip we returned to the field. A quick scout of the area revealed triangular-shaped tracks, definitely fallow, that were days old. In all likelihood the small herd had not returned to this spot since that first day.

We took up a position around the perimeter in a way that let each of us have prime coverage for a third of the field, without anyone being in another’s line of fire. Each of us, too, could back-up the others if it became necessary.

I was five yards or so into the woods, with a pile of boulders at my back and some brush masking my position. Shorty settled in about 40 yards to my right, while George did the same to my left, crouching behind a fallen log but with a clear view of the meadow.

The sky was beginning to lighten when I heard a rustling from the woods across the field. Cautiously stepping into the clearing was an eight-point, medium gray fallow buck. Given his location, the shot belonged to George.

On sticklike legs the deer moved further into the field, his unique Adam’s apple bobbing as he munched a few shoots here and there. The wind, and our cedar-scented clothing, worked in our favor. The buck had no idea we were waiting for him. I don’t think any of us remembered to breathe, either.

At about 70 yards from George’s position the buck started angling to the right. While the fallow’s head was down feeding I could see George slowing raise his rifle. Up came the deer’s head, and he took a few more steps. I watched as George started to squeeze the trigger, switched my focus to the deer, actually saw the bullet impact, and watched him collapse in mid-step, dropping like a stone. He didn’t leap; he didn’t run; he didn’t stagger. He just fell down.

Suddenly, the woods behind the fallen buck exploded. Through the thinly scattered trees I could see two does and a young buck running back toward cover on the forested hill across the field. Almost the entire small herd we’d spotted that first day must have been heading back to this wheat field. We’d timed our return just right. Were we field savvy? More like dumb luck.

All of us stayed perfectly still for a moment. Then we were up and hurrying toward the downed buck. The medium-gray coat was slick and shiny. He was healthy and well fed, obviously having recovered well from his rutting activities some weeks earlier. He’d dress out at 120 pounds, and the palmation of his antlers indicated he was four years old.

This was our third attempt at fallow deer hunting at LBL, which has an "on-again, off-again" attitude about hunting them. Sometimes they offer tags every other year. Sometimes they close hunting altogether. Right now, fallow deer hunting is not allowed at LBL. Be sure to check with headquarters before planning a hunt. It was also the first time we’d scored, however. So, although we could understand how those sportsmen who’d originally stocked fallow deer had given up in disgust, with a successful hunt under our belts we were primed for additional exotic hunts.