When we were driving out long gravel roads to field sites on Prince of Wales Island last month, there were Sitka black-tailed deer everywhere. Each time we surprised one with the truck, they would freeze and stare, swiveling their oversized ears at us, but they were reluctant to leave the clear space of the road for the thick underbrush. We would slow to a crawl, and they bounded before us for long minutes before disappearing into the bushes.

We saw several does with tiny fawns, including this guy. It was running after its mother and a sibling when suddenly it just flat fell over! I thought perhaps the mother had somehow carelessly kicked it in the head, so sudden was its drop, but my boss (and veteran deer hunter) said it’s a defense mechanism: playing dead.

If it was in deep grass or in the brush, I could see that working. On a gravel road, though, not so much!

You’ll never find me!

From the soil scientist and hydrologists we were staying with at the Craig Ranger District, we learned a game called “Build a Herd,” which is what they play from driving from field site to field site on POW.

Every deer spotted on your side of the road is added to your herd, but if you see an eagle it carries off one of your deer. A bear kills them all, and if you’re on the radio when you see a deer, it gets cancer and dies. The largest herd at the end of the trip wins.

It turns out that I’m no good at building a herd. My boss, the accomplished hunter, spotted every deer as soon as they entered his field of vision. He pointed them out on both sides of the road, and half the time noticed new antlers sprouting on the bucks while I was still looking for the animal he was talking about.

Here’s the winning strategy, though: don’t sit on the side of the truck that will be the water side on the way back to town. In the evening he was on the beach side of the road where all the eagles are staring into the water for fish. Half his herd was carried off, and my side of the truck won, 21 to 13.