Seize the Moment with Proper Deer Calling

Three bucks meandering down trails bordering the bedding area had passed within 20 yards of my perch atop the ladder stand, all within five minutes. The sun in the west shined above the horizon, 30 minutes prior to sunset, as I scanned the riverbottom brush for bucks. Movement north of a slow-moving, cattail-choked creek, caught my eye. The huge-bodied buck moved steadily along the edge of a mowed field, surely in search of does on this chilly evening in late November.

I blew a doe bleat call, followed by a grunt. With no indication of the buck hearing me, I increased the volume of the next two grunts. At 200 yards and with a breeze rustling the plentiful cottonwood leaves, I doubted he could even hear me. Then he stopped and looked in my direction. I blew another grunt, waited 20 seconds, and then blew another. He turned and started walking toward me. Pushing through cattails and dropping into the crotch-deep stream, he disappeared behind the creekbank. I quickly scooted to the edge of my seat, lifted my longbow from its hook, and mentally prepared for the coming action. He climbed over the dirt bank with his 4x4 rack held high, extending well past his ears, and with heavy bases. My heart pounded — it was a shooter!

Like many bowhunters heading to the woods in November, it’s rare when I don’t have a grunt call handy. When I was a novice, I tried just about everything to up the odds: Rattling horns (fake and real), deer scents of every brand, and numerous styles of calls. I had enough early success with calls that I kept at it. The deer weren’t exactly running me over, but a few showed some interest.

Enough of my bowhunting buddies were reporting action as a result of grunting, that I knew I was onto something. It started out pretty intimidating: between my pounding heart and rushing adrenaline at the sight of a big buck, it was hard for me to confidently blow a decent-sounding grunt. Since a majority of the bucks I called to didn’t initially respond, self-doubt raised the issue that maybe I wasn’t doing it right. Too soft, too loud, too long a grunt, or maybe not long enough? Should it be deeper and raspier, or softer and cleaner? Everybody wants a quick-fix, easy answer that produces immediate results. Calling deer isn’t a science. There isn’t a perfect call that works every time. There are endless reasons for calling to fail.

The purpose of using a grunt call is to imitate the sound a buck makes when he is pursuing a hot doe. Theoretically, this sound will make a lonely buck come to investigate what’s doing. The buck a hunter tries to call to may not be lonely; he may be on the trail of a doe. The lone buck may have just bred a doe, he might be thirsty or hungry, or just too tired to even give a rip about what he heard.

Another obvious issue is that rushing in on another buck’s girl might result in a rumble with a pissed-off adversary. That may be worth the risk early in the rut, but later in November, the busted racks, cuts, and scars observed on rutting bucks reminds hunters that half the deer are losing fights. After several butt-kickings, many bucks would prefer to avoid other rutting bucks. There are passive rutting bucks — think big, perfect racks on December 1. One way to not get busted up is to use caution before charg in on another buck and his loving girlfriend.

Sound is a huge issue. Not every hunter is a good singer or has perfect hearing. Likewise, not every hunter is capable of delivering the perfect call in a sequence that a buck finds believable. Another factor during the rut in the northern half of the U.S., is the ground is covered in leaves. A buck plowing through four inches of oak leaves probably couldn’t hear a car door shut at 50 yards. A stiff wind in the woods may be noisier yet. Timing is everything; when a buck pauses, it’s time to let loose with a grunt.

The number-one reason that bucks don’t come to a grunt call is that the hunter is in a treestand or ground blind in an open area with little ground cover. The buck hears the grunt, looks toward the sound, sees nothing, and keeps on going. Sticking with the theory that a buck in the rut is interested in a hot doe, upon hearing the grunt, said buck expects to see deer. The best setup is to call from a blind or treestand located in a thick, nasty tangle of brush. Another angle is to use a decoy, which gives the buck visual confirmation of what he is hearing.

After several years of hunting the rut, I heard a buck grunting as he chased a doe. Finally, I heard a noise that I could try to replicate. Once I heard the real thing, my calling confidence increased. After several more encounters with the real thing, I learned that not all bucks grunt the same way; however, there is a pattern of grunts all rutting bucks make when on a hot doe.

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I started blowing three deep grunts, spaced 10–20 seconds apart. The volume varied, based on my perception of the distance and the external factors of wind and leaves. Once a deer indicated it heard my grunt, I’d shut up — but I’d keep the call on my lips. If a buck turned his head toward me, I’d lock up and not move a muscle. A deer can see any movement at 150 yards. If a buck turns away, I immediately call again. If that doesn’t work, I quit grunting. If the buck starts in my direction, I go crickets. The buck knows exactly where I am, and there is no benefit to continuing to play a broken record.

A few years ago I started throwing a doe bleat call into my calling mix. I figured if the buck is looking for a doe, a bleat couldn’t hurt. That year, on a mid-November day, I had two different bucks come my way in response to my bleat call followed by three grunt calls.

The first buck was walking along the edge of a picked cornfield. He skidded to a stop at the bleat call, and then came on running after two grunts. He was a year or two younger than I wanted, and the young buck got a pass as he milled around under my ladder stand.

The second buck was a monster I saw back in the trees at 150 yards. The creekbottom, with its uneven ground and big cottonwood trees, blocked my view. I blindly did my series of calls, without the benefit of being able to observe his reaction. Through a mental lapse, I gave up and sat down in the stand just when the big guy popped out close, and I spooked him.

Calling blind is necessary if a hunter only catches a glimpse of a good buck in thick cover or in hilly terrain. When doing this, it’s imperative to be ready for action. Make sure you have an arrow nocked and your bow in hand after calling, and make sure you are in a good position to shoot if an opportunity presents itself.

I don’t think there is a downside to attempting to call to a buck that’s obviously not going to pass by within range. As long as a hunter is well concealed and not moving, I don’t think a grunt call will spook a buck.

The reality is that most bucks will act as if they cannot hear the call and just keep doing whatever they’re doing. The majority of deer that stop and look in the direction of the caller will then keep on walking without changing direction. However, just like in the movie “Dumb And Dumber,” when Mary tells Lloyd that there’s a one in a million chance they’ll end up together, Lloyd pauses and says, “So you’re telling me there’s a chance.” Be like Lloyd!

One of the keys to success is to have a grunt tube handy. Calling opportunities are oftentimes brief moments. A call buried in the bottom of your pack isn’t going to do you much good in the heat of the moment.

Back to my 2022 hunt. The buck was closing in, and I was in the scenario of when to shoot. Just like calling in elk, it was all happening fast, but patience had to trump excitement.

At 25 yards, he turned almost broadside while following a trail through the willow brush. I fought the urge to shoot — no reason to rush when he was still coming. Again, like elk hunting, he was walking toward me, and frontal shots aren’t the way to go.

Now, things were really amping up. My bow, with a nocked arrow, was pointing right at him, and my shooting fingers were on the string. I made several slight adjustments of my shoulders as first he turned right, and then to his left.

Hours earlier, I had snapped off several small branches in a willow tree next to me, to create a hole through which I could shoot the trail to my right at nine yards. The advanced preparation paid big dividends when the buck turned on the trail and his shoulder appeared in the cleared shooting lane.

My longbow’s limbs arced with ease as I drew while staying focused on the center of his ribs. The feathered fletchings on my arrow streaked forward and were instantly visible on his rib cage. He turned to run, and I saw my three-blade broadhead poking out the buck’s far side — a bit low.

The buck ran 50 yards in a panic, stopped, and looked back in my direction. He wobbled, then walked briskly through some seven-foot-high cane and disappeared out of sight at 100 yards. With 30 minutes of light left before darkness would engulf the riverbottom, I decided it was a single-lung hit and silently left the area. Aside from not sleeping well, it was the right call. With temperatures dropping to 10 degrees Fahrenheit overnight, the meat was just fine the following morning when I recovered him.

I doubt that I will hit the woods in November without a grunt call for many years. You never know when you might have a chance.

The author is the only bowhunter to complete an archery Super Slam with a longbow. He practices real estate and probate law in Broomfield, Colorado.

Author’s Note

My equipment included a 47# ACS longbow, Carbon Express Heritage 150 arrows, Razorcap broadheads, clothing from KUIU and King of the Mountain, Muck Boots, and an Extinguisher deer call.