It was the opening day of gun season in Michigan. We were camping on a large dairy farm in south central Michigan which we had leased. I positioned myself just inside a swampy low-land area where I could watch the recently harvested soybean field. There were thick rubs and scrapes surrounding the perimeter of the swamp.
At approximately nine in the morning, a beautiful six-point buck stepped out of the swamp and started checking the scrape line. He presented a perfect broadside shot at 50 yards and I took it. He staggered a second and trotted off. I waited for 30 minutes before searching for him, during which time it started raining, and raining hard. I looked for an hour in the direction he staggered off, but there was little sign due to the rain. I needed help. My hunting buddy was close by, so he helped me look, but to no avail. I figured I would look again when it stopped raining.
It rained all day.