SubmittedMaking memories: Mikayla Giles was just a youngster when she killed this buck and made a lifetime memory with her dad Mike Giles near Edwards.

Experiencing good times in the Mississippi outdoors is something that anybody can do if they will just get outdoors and explore the bountiful fish and game opportunities.

Making memories is something that you don’t think about when you’re young. During my early years it was always about catching that next fish or shooting that next buck. Lifetime memories were made while fishing and hunting with my father, Jack Giles, in the woods and waters of Lauderdale County as we hunted squirrels each fall and caught fish in area lakes.

Venturing farther around the state with my grandfather J. P. Nolen, we made trips to Noxubee Wildlife Refuge in search of deer. Noxubee was loaded with deer and you were sure to see a few if you got in the right place and stayed put. Trips were also made to the hills overlooking the mighty Mississippi River near Port Gibson. I shot at my first deer there and got a taste of deer hunting from the “deer camp” perspective as we hunted with people from all walks of life.

Later on, we hunted deer “up home” in Webster County north of Stewart where my grandfather was raised on a farm. In his younger years he roamed the fields hunting arrowheads and quail. Stories abound of Ole Daddy, J.P. and brother J. W. Nolen hunting quail all day long as they encountered covey after covey harvesting untold numbers of quail.

When I came along most of the quail were gone and many of the fields were growing mature timber that was rich in game, and we chased the popular whitetail deer that were just exploding in numbers around the state.

During one particular December hunt, I joined Paw Paw Pat Nolen, Uncle Jimmy and a few others on a Saturday morning deer hunt. Gene Morris and his brother Oliver also joined us and after the early morning hunt Gene and Oliver were going to make a “drive” up through the swamp bottom and see if they could push a few deer out by the rest of us.

We’d heard dogs barking and running deer through the hills and hollows almost all day long but hadn’t seen hide nor hair of any deer, much less a buck so the Morris brothers were going to try to stir things up and run a deer out.

The rest of us were positioned at different points as they hooped and hollered their way through the swamp bottom, finally arriving near my stand midday. As Gene and Oliver prepared to cross the creek and head back to camp we talked a few minutes and I told them I was going to hunt a while longer since I’d have to go home soon and this could be the last chance I got to kill a deer that season.

Just a couple minutes after I’d left them a pack of hounds came over the ridge barking and bawling slowly, like they were cold trailing a deer. Though I didn’t have much confidence that they were running a buck I hurried to the tip of the ridge where it intersected with the swamp bottom. Suddenly the dog’s barking became more excited and pronounced as they’d struck a hot trail.

I stood on the rise and spotted a buck running directly toward me with antler tips shining like Christmas tree lights. I picked out a small opening in the dense swamp bottom and when the buck ran into the opening, I squeezed the trigger.

“Tic-boom” as the rifle roared the buck collapsed instantly and never even twitched. He ran slap dab into my crosshairs and the bullet hit him right above the right eye, shattering his skull and breaking off one of his main beams. The buck was the biggest one I’d ever harvested at the time and I could hardly believe it because it happened so fast.

Gene Morris thought I might have accidentally fired my rifle as I’d only left them a couple minutes before the action ensued. As my grandfather had told me many times, “You’ve got to be in the right place at the right time,” and I surely was on that cold winter day.

I didn’t know it at the time but my good fortune to harvest that buck in the swamp bottom of Webster County with my friends and family became a very cherished lifetime memory for me. I look back on those days with Paw Paw Pat, Uncle Jim, Gene Morris and a few others with fond memories but I also look forward to making more memories this hunting season as well. Carpe Diem!

Call Mike Giles at 601-917-3898 or email mikegiles18@comast.net.