I’ll never forget the first time I witnessed the pandemonium of a mature whitetail buck hot on the heels of an estrous doe.
It happened more than 20 years ago on a chilly, late-October morning in Pennsylvania. Guided by the light of a headlamp, I walked into the woods surrounded by pre-dawn darkness, climbed into my stand and eagerly awaited the sunrise. At first, all was quiet. But it wasn’t long before the silence was broken by the frantic hoof-beats in the dry leaves that covered the forest floor. Like an approaching freight train, the sound grew louder and louder, and I strained my eyes in the direction of the commotion until finally its source appeared. Running at a furious pace, a doe — followed closely by a large, wide,…