It was getting pretty late when we noticed yet one more buck standing in the edge of the brush -- and this one was big enough to make my heart flutter. Its antlers massive, and tall, it was fully mature, probably at least 7 1/2 years old, and the heaviest buck I'd ever seen; I put it at well over 200 pounds. I was thinking 250, but was afraid that no one would believe me.

After the buck stood there watching for many minutes, it finally decided that everything was OK and started toward the feeder. This time the larger bucks, including the 3 1/2-year-old 10-pointer, didn't fluff up and display. They slunk out of this buck's way, trying not to attract its attention. It was plain to see that this old buck was the Bull of the Woods and the youngsters, no matter how big and tough they acted around their peers, wanted nothing to do with it.

My host looked the buck over with his binoculars, turned to me and whispered, "This one is a shooter. Do you want him?"

I thought he was kidding. This buck was a monster -- a hulk -- a bloody moose -- and I was supposed to be hunting management bucks. But when I looked at him, I could tell that he was serious. Of course I wanted the buck -- and I said so.

I slowly slid my old Remington Model 722 in .300 Savage out the window of the blind and waited for the buck to turn just right; finally, he offered me a shot at his shoulder. I put the cross hairs on the point of his left shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The rifle recoiled, and the buck took off in a frantic run.

It didn't get far. Within 75 yards it stopped, weaved around for a second, and fell over.

When we got to the buck, I couldn't believe how massive his antlers were -- they looked as big around as my not-inconsiderable wrists. When my host and I tried to load him onto the bumper carrier of the Jeep, it was all we could do to wrestle him the mere 2 feet off the ground it required. I had shot some big deer, but nothing like this old beast.

But this deer -- this huge buck -- was a cull! A "management buck"! In modern parlance, he was over 4 1/2 years old and was an 8-pointer. And irrespective of his size, on some ranches that makes him undesirable.

Twenty-five years ago that deer would have been winning big-buck contests all over the state; today he's deemed "undesirable." That's hard for me to wrap my mind around. How can such a monster be considered a cull?

It didn't matter to me, and it still doesn't: As far as I'm concerned, that buck's the trophy of a lifetime.