Apparently the does weren't impressed by his macho maneuvers. They soon started drifting back toward Rod's stand as Rod uttered the hunter's eternal prayer: If the opportunity for a shot occurs, please let it be a clean shot. It seemed that the prayer was instantly answered, because the huge buck drifted out of the cane and stepped partially into a small opening. At 75 yards, it was likely a sure shot. Yet Rod held off.

OLD "DANG NEAR'S" DEMISE
"I would never forgive myself if I shot and wounded such a magnificent creature," he explained. "We have a coyote patrol that waits for just such an opportunity, and I wasn't going to give those coyotes the chance."

The buck took two more steps forward, presenting a clear shoulder shot. Rod barely remembers squeezing the trigger. At the sound of the shot, the massive buck dropped in his tracks. Totally overwhelmed, Rod sent a prayer of thanks upwards and then developed an acute case of buck fever. He was too shaken to call the clubhouse on his radiophone to tell them he'd taken the "Dang Near" phantom buck.

"I finally keyed the mike and gasped, 'I got him.' Then I just sat there -- a mass of shaking jelly. I was proud of my trophy, but I knew it wasn't due to my expertise. Call it what you will, but I believe bucks like the one I had just taken truly are gifts from God."

When help arrived, Rod received the usual backslapping and congratulatory remarks, but he remained very low key.

"I had to get back and compare trail camera pictures," he said. "I wanted to find a picture that I knew about showing two drop-tined bucks together in an area far from where I had shot the big one."

Rod eventually found the picture and began comparing the antlers of both bucks in the photo to those of the fallen monarch. With glee he shouted, "Look at those drop tines. They match pretty closely. These are his sons, so we've still got part of him with us!"

This claim was reinforced in March 2006 when Rod and his dogs found five different sheds containing drop tines. The genetics clearly had been passed on. So does this mean that Rod will ever try to top his biggie?

"Those deer are for somebody else," he said happily. "If I never hunt again, the deer I shot was enough reward."

How good is Rod's buck? He was aged at 7 1/2 and he scores 196 2/8 non-typical points, qualifying for the all-time B&C record book. This is surefire proof that Rod's management plan is really working. Best of all, it's working not only on the island but several miles up and down the Mississippi River as well. Apparently several trophy bucks left the island and migrated to nearby President's Island near Memphis and Shelby Forest's public hunting area, because the buck size there, as well as in some neighboring areas, has jumped dramatically in the last five years.

Thanks to Rod Alexander's dream and the blessings of Paul Broadhead, the massive "boneheads" of Brandywine Island are changing the idea that Southern bucks never amount to much. And like the lyrics in the song that say "the South's gonna rise again," these words are especially appropriate for entries in the Arkansas record book!

(Editor's Note: For information about booking a Brandywine Island deer or turkey hunt, call Rod or Brenda Alexander at 901-835-4575.)

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