The morning was perfect. Clear, crisp, and cool. I wanted to check trail cameras on western Prince of Wales Island. It would be a Hawken day. Navigating the change from standard to day light savings time was the first challenge. I had coffee. I drove west, seeing one small buck in the headlights. I got to the place to hike into the first of the cameras. Nothing came to the call. I changed batteries and checked the cameras. Bucks on the cameras were moving in the early morning hours, well before shooting light. I decided to move south. Two years ago, I had explored a promising place. Maybe I should give it another try. I drove to the parking spot, dawned my pack and grabbed the Hawken. This required crossing a creek that was low enough to ford. I moved from the creek to the muskegs beyond. I called at several spots beyond the creek. I finally got close to a beaver slew/pond complex. All was frozen. As I called, something crashed through the ice. Several minutes later I could hear distinct footsteps in the ice and frozen snow. I gently called. Noting showed in 15 minutes. I called for another 20 minutes, nothing. I moved ¾ miles up the canyon calling. The wind had picked up, it was now howling at times, cold. I worked north again, returning to the beaver slew and called again. Nothing. The winds were stronger now. I thought to myself, if I were a deer, I would be deep in the timber in a protected bedding area away from the wind. I scanned the surrounding area. I selected a knob hoping there would be a bedding place on the other side of it protected from the wind. It took me some 20 minutes to get to the knob. Deer sign increased in the snow covered trails. I inched forward until I had about 50 yards visibility. I sat down and let the woods grow quiet. I began to call quietly at first. After 15 minutes I knew the sound of the wind in the trees was covering my calling. I amped it up. I immediately heard a limb snap behind me. I spun to watch my backside. As I turned back forward there was a buck staring at me through the brush 20 yards away. It was completely concealed in brush. No wait, its lower throat patch was mainly unobstructed. Aim small, miss small. I held at the lower portion of the throat patch and fired. As the smoke cleared, I could see the buck lying there. Death as swift. I reloaded, picked up my pack and walked to the buck. I would be returning back across the creek heavy. Last year the weather limited my ability to hunt with the Hawken. I am thankful for the opportunity today and hopefully over the next few days. Thank God for this public land and the opportunities we all have.