I peered through the peep with the bead on the bigger buck's chest, and then lowered the muzzleloader. It was a good deer, but we had seen better. Earlier I had told Bystol that what I most hoped to do on this hunt was to stalk within range of a bedded mature buck. Having done so, we smiled and watched the two bucks swiveling their heads and ears, scanning for danger, unaware of the men crouched in the brush behind them. I leaned into Bystol and whispered, "Let's go find another," and we slipped away.