The buck had his head down, and he came within 15 yards of Ballard's position before he stopped.

"He acted as if he never saw me," Ballard said. "He turned around and headed back toward the flat I had first spotted him on. When he came up out of the hollow the second time, I had a pretty good shot at him. I drew, but when I shot -- well, I don't know if he flinched or if I flinched, but I'd just about take bets that it was me. . . ."

Whichever was the case, the arrow was off its mark and the arrow hit the trophy buck too far back. Ballard's heart sank and rose as he watched the trophy of a lifetime flinch, take two steps -- and stop dead in his tracks.

"He took another couple of steps and I shot again, but I hit a tree about halfway between me and him," Ballard recalled. "He took a couple of more steps and stopped again, and I shot again. This time the arrow passed just barely over his back. He disappeared after that."

Jacked up on adrenaline but discouraged by his poor shooting, Ballard paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"I was just sick. I knew the only chance I had of getting that buck was if I had happened to hit the artery that runs down the back leg. The buck looked as if he was hurting, so I hoped that was what had happened. I decided to give him an hour before I started to trail him."

Thirty minutes later, Ballard could stand the suspense no longer. "I eased over to see if I could find a blood trail or evidence of a hit," he said. "I found a wide path of blood, so figured I'd hit that artery. I eased up the trail a little ways and then sat down again to give the deer some more time. This time, I gave him another 20 minutes."

Nervously, Ballard climbed up to the next flat and looked for the buck, but the flat was clear.

"Then I looked up the hill," he said. "I saw the buck walking away. He got out of sight, and it looked as if he had lain down, but from where I was standing I couldn't see exactly where. So I eased up to the flat I'd last seen him on, figuring he'd lain down there. I couldn't find him. I eased around the flat and looked up and down the hollow. I wondered where the heck he'd gone.

"I couldn't see down into the hollow that ran off to one side, so I eased over to the edge of the flat and looked down into it. The deer was 20 yards below me, bedded down, looking downhill. He'd covered his back trail, but he wasn't looking the right direction."

Ballard couldn't shoot because the only part of the buck that was visible was the back of his head.

"About five yards downhill, there was a big tree," Ballard recalled. "I figured if I could get there, I could get another arrow into the buck. I made it to the tree, and I could see him from there but still couldn't shoot. I needed another two steps to the right. I managed to take the two steps without spooking him, and I had a good shot at his chest and back. I aimed between his shoulder blades and let the arrow go."