And how could it be otherwise after hours of waiting in the cold that precedes and follows the dawn on that roof terrace in Slovenian soil? Yes, how could a deer like that ever forget it, a young hunter born and raised among the cages of the calls, immersed in the green walls of rocks and mountain stalking?
First the barrel, then the roof terrace ... until, with a hunting weekend in Slovenia, I am offered the opportunity to meet the owner of the forest, his majesty the deer
Since I was a child I was lucky enough to be part of a family with hunting traditions, of winders but above all of hunters, of nature lovers, of days in the open air, such as those spent in the barrels of Lake Massaciuccoli where they swooped down like teal fighter planes, pochards and mallards.
This was my hunt. For some years, however, there has been a turning point, a new passion, first I presented myself to take the exams in the Alps area and then to hunt ungulates as a companion and then a new world opened up for me. The fascination of hunting in the mountains with roe deer and chamois took over in my hunting days. Only recently, almost by chance, I followed a dear friend of mine hunter for a hunting weekend in Slovenia in the month of November, with the program of hunting deer calves since the period of the bellowing had obviously passed and I it offered the possibility of meeting the owner of the forest, his majesty the deer.
At the time I only had one rifle, my Blaser k 9,5 with two barrels in the different calibers 25-06 and 30-06, so I took the second one with me, more suitable for the hunting I would have faced. I leave with Piero and Martino for the Slovenian land in a reserve on the border with Croatia. The place as it appears to me as soon as I arrive is magnificent: endless pine forests, green meadows seem scattered islands in the atolls of a landscape between plains and mountains that leaves you speechless: in some respects it seems to be in Canada, instead only five hours from Milan. In the evening I had prepared all the necessary as my custom, carefully checked my weapon and the shots in caliber 30.06, my binoculars, the rangefinder and I also prepare the loden cape that my father had lent me, because the cold in the early morning is bitter, firm as we will be on the roof terrace at five degrees below zero.
We wake up before dawn, have breakfast and then leave, each of us with his companion towards the hunting areas. With me is Ivo, an expert hunter who, with his build, reminds me of Big Jim. He tells me in an approximate but effective Italian that he was in the special forces during the Balkan war and this on the spot puts me a little in awe, but I immediately understand that he is very kind and above all a great hunter. We walk along a path in the woods along which Ivo seems to have a radar around him, I follow him a few centimeters trying to trample his footprints on the ground covered with abundant frost.
Three females, one male ... I place the center of the optic reticle at the base of the neck on the sternum of the deer, it seems to me a right vital point for how the animal presents itself to me and slowly I pull the trigger almost frightened
We finally arrive near the roof terrace and go up without making the slightest noise: Ivo does not speak to me, he just makes a few gestures and, with his ice-blue eyes, shows me where to position myself. We cover ourselves and wait and, as the dawn lights advance, the landscape around us seems enchanted: low and tall pines alternate with frost-covered birches, the lawn in front of our roof terrace reminds me of a frozen lake, the silence around us is only interrupted by the sound of the bells of a church in the distance, seven tolls. Suddenly Ivo touches me on the side with his powerful shoulder and whispers: "Female deer ... three, look at you". I turn to his side and a hundred meters away, between the whiteness of the frost and the green of the pines, three female deer peep out in their elegance. Ivo beckons me to get ready, load the gun and take a position for the shot.
I kneel in a very low voice and place the rifle on the shelf on the edge of the roof terrace, remove the safety from my Blaser and wait, staring at the slow movement of the females. The legs after a while start to throb, immobilized as they are in that position. I am as if paralyzed. Suddenly a shadow can be seen behind the females. Ivo whispers to me: “Male deer, male deer!…” I can't see him from the agitation. "Behind, behind ... you have a good look" Ivo keeps repeating, agitated too. I do not even have the ability: I feel my heart in my throat, I almost stop breathing. Then I see him, here he is, he comes out of the woods and walks in front of me. I place the center of the optic reticle at the base of the neck on the sternum of the deer, it seems to me a right vital point for how the animal presents itself to me and slowly I pull the trigger almost frightened. The blow breaks the silence of the forest, the females run away in all directions and disappear like ghosts in the fog. The male deer staggers, makes three meters and falls on its front legs. Now the silence has become even more absolute than before the blow. Finally Ivo breaks it, looking at me and hugging me, practically crushes me and says “You good hunter, good kaput deer”. Let's go to retrieve the deer and give it hunting honors as is appropriate. Ivo takes care of everything, with his incredible strength he takes him to the stage and carries him to the car, satisfied with the successful morning of the hunt and happy to have my first deer killed. I still thank him now because, years later, the images and memories of that first time are still alive in my mind.
di Antonio Bana (President Assoarmieri)
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