“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

Fall, 2006 - The Three Amigos. Orphaned Fawns
by Officer Jeff Edwards
As I approached the rock outcropping, a bull elk’s scream heightened my anticipation of glassing the forest valley below. The sun was just beginning to rise behind me; the morning was crisp, clear and comfortable on this early September day. I was looking forward to making observations of two mule deer fawns (Gillette and Quinn) and one cagey whitetail fawn (Mr. Whitetail). How far had they dispersed since releasing them the previous afternoon and how were they adjusting to the “wild” again?

As I slipped to the west-facing slope of the rocky knob, careful not to silhouette my approach to the deer and elk below, the bull screamed again. I found a comfortable spot to sit and quickly began glassing the valley and drainages below. I discovered the bull first and quickly set up my spotting scope to enjoy his presence at 40 power. He was standing on the opposite hillside about 600 yards away, soaking up the sun’s early rays. His hide was tan and clean and he carried a heavy set of antlers, five tines on each side. He was alone and looking for cows.

As he made his way along the burned logging road my attention focused on the first deer I could see below. It was a doe with a fawn. She was near the area where Mickie and I had released the three fawns the day before. I could see a small pile of bedding straw that we had left when we released the fawns. As she approached the out of place bedding, I wondered how she would react to it. It was obvious when she first smelled it. She stopped and then step by step, nervously approached the bedding that smelled of human presence. She was cautious and teaching her young fawn a lesson about “out of place” smells. She lifted her tail and held it straight up as she made the last few steps. Maybe she smelled the orphaned fawns too.

That’s when the first orphaned mule deer fawn, Gillette, approached out of the cover of the aspens. He walked up behind the doe as if looking for a friend or mentor. I relished this experience to observe how both would react. The meeting was rough. The doe turned on Gillette and smacked him multiple times on the head with her front hoof. Gillette ran off a short distance confused and tried to analyze why this deer similar to him would treat him so poorly. A common observation was evident again to me. Wild “mothers” rarely accept someone else’s offspring. It’s called survival of the fittest, and this “wild” mother was reserving her energy and patience for her fawn only.

Gillette watched the doe and fawn walk away and then looked back into the aspen pocket. I could tell another deer was there. Sure enough, Quinn emerged from the aspens and walked over to his friend Gillette. They were friends. I felt rewarded to get to see both of them again. I began to assume that Mr. Whitetail had probably left the two big-eared deer to hang out together.

More deer began to emerge from the nearby pocket of aspens and Ponderosa pine. The group of 15-20 deer that emerged over the next 10 minutes was a handful of whitetail doe/ fawn pairs and a few bucks. The bucks were still tolerant of one another, except for the heavy antlered 4 x 4. He was the boss among the group. When another buck fed too closely, he laid his ears back, his neck hairs bristled and he rarely had to turn his focus to the intruding buck before they got the message that they were feeding to close. For the most part all was well in the valley floor below.

Eventually I noticed one whitetail fawn that seemed to spend more time in proximity to Gillette and Quinn. And in time, I recognized that it must be Mr. Whitetail. As the group of whitetail does, fawns and bucks fed to the south the trio stayed together. My observation was confirmed when Mr. Whitetail decided to lead the group up the forest service trail to the north. Quite a sight and how unique to watch the three amigos head out on a pilgrimage together. They took turns chasing each other and sniffing and nibbling on grass and browse along the way. As they explored the upper reaches of the drainage I began to consider packing up and hiking up the drainage to keep an eye on them. Where would they go and would they stay together?

When they were just about out of sight a ¼ mile up the drainage, something instinctively told them to turn around and return to their release site. I stayed put and watched them work their way back.

My attention turned to the bull elk again momentarily. He had stopped and was staring intently down the forest valley. I was surprised that he was still visible, now that the sun had risen and illuminated his existence. Generally elk retreat to the cover of the shadows after the sun appears. Just as I considered this, he turned and began to trot from the direction he had come from. I wondered why he was making the hasty retreat. Pretty soon the large group of whitetail deer had focused their attention too in the same direction. They began to raise their tails and soon were running in the direction of the elk. I knew something was coming.

The archery elk hunter walking on foot with the wind at his back had alerted all the game down wind that he was approaching. I realized that he was a novice foot hunter. A foot hunter rarely finds success walking in the direction of the wind. Elk and deer have such a keen sense of smell; it’s their primary defense. I chuckled and enjoyed the reaction. I knew this archery elk hunter would never see this bull again today, but he had obviously seen the bull elk and decided to pursue him anyway.

As the archery hunter approached the aspen pocket I couldn’t wait to see how the three amigos would respond, as they did not follow the fleeing whitetails. They watched everyone leave and did not understand the alarm of the other deer. They continued to feed in the sun.

The hunter, dressed in full camouflage and carrying a bow, descended the trail and observed the three deer first at about 75 yards. He stopped and observed them. Depending on his experience in the field with deer, I wondered if he considered why two mule deer fawns would be together with one cagey whitetail fawn. It looked a bit out of place. He continued his pace and when the three amigos caught his movement they took off together in the opposite direction, Mr. Whitetail leading the pack. A good beginning to survival in the wild.

I understand the necessity of offspring learning the lessons of surviving in the wild from their maternal parents. Just like humans, newborns of the wild require a maternal bond and a devoted mentor to show them the ropes of survival if they are to survive the elements of the wild. The best advice that I share every May and June with concerned callers is to leave the wild offspring alone. It’s their best chance of survival in the wild.