A spike trotted through the saddle no more than 30 minutes after daylight. Intermittent shots rang out in the distance (a few shots were close, too). At nine a.m., while texting a friend who was hunting in Indiana, I looked up and saw this buck cruising through the oaks. It was obvious he had a place to go and does in mind. I dropped my phone, threw the rifle to my shoulder, and made a quick mouth bleat. The buck stopped. I counted three points on one main beam, saw another main beam that seemed to match, and a frame beyond his ears--good enough for me. The buck was quartering to me, and the Ballistic Silvertip from my .308 broke his front shoulder and left through the back of his rib cage. The whole experience, from the time I saw the buck until he hit the ground, might've lasted 20 seconds.