It's that time of year when it's fight to the death

Fights to the death don't happen often, not in the wild, not anywhere. But among whitetail bucks in Minnesota and Wisconsin, during the last half of October and the first half of November, they occur with some frequency.

During this time, whitetail bucks are in rut, and the mature bucks (generally those animals age 2 1/2 and older) are fairly crazed in their search for does in estrus, or heat. Often male whitetails that encounter other males during this period are mismatched -- one obviously superior to the other -- and in these cases the inferior (usually smaller) buck exits the scene rather quickly, saving himself to fight in a future year, when his chances are better.

Bill Scott of Ely was in his stand on a recent morning at his hunting camp bordering the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness when he heard what he thought was a buck grunting. This is a common sound bucks make, and isn't always associated with fighting or challenges by another buck. But grunts can be interpreted as challenges, one buck to another, and hunters often simulate grunt calls to draw bucks closer to their positions, or to cause them to clear themselves so a shot can be made.

The grunts that Bill heard were different. They were loud, multiple and accompanied by thrashing. But the disturbance occurred just out of sight, and he couldn't be sure what was happening. He thought perhaps it was a buck fight. But he didn't hear antlers rattling or smashing against one another. And the grunting was loud and nearly continual. Maybe it was a buck vigorously rubbing its antlers against a tree. Or scraping the ground. Staying alert, Bill hoped he might have a shot when the animal -- he assumed it was a buck -- appeared in the open.

In short order, that's what happened. But besides seeing that it was a buck, and a good one, Bill couldn't make out much more than the animal's head and neck, and they were soon fleeting.

Climbing down from his stand, Bill walked in the direction from which he heard the grunting. There, on the ground, amid a circle of broken branches and small trees, and beaten underbrush, lay an 8-point buck, dead. The animal had been gored to death by the other buck, and in multiple places. One antler was broken where it joined the skull and was held in place only by the animal's skin.

About the same time, in a different part of the state, near Henning, Brian Fiskum's hunting party didn't witness a buck fight. Nor did they hear one, as Bill Scott did. But the remains of a fight -- two bucks dead, their antlers locked -- were found.

Hunters and others who have witnessed buck fights describe them as incredible displays of strength and daring. (Plenty of videos are available on YouTube by searching for "buck fights.") Counterintuitively, perhaps, bucks that do lock antlers often travel long distances -- a half mile isn't uncommon -- while engaged. And not infrequently they end up in, and die in, water.

Most impressive about bucks fighting is the importance the animals place on maintaining a low center of gravity. Crouching down on all fours, and thrusting themselves repeatedly toward their enemies with their powerful rear legs, fighting bucks resemble seasoned wrestlers in their attempts to run off their competitors -- or kill them.

Witnessing such fights during the Wisconsin firearms whitetail season, which begins Saturday, occurs relatively less often. The rut by now is winding down, and with it the urge to breed -- and the desire to risk life, limb and antlers to do so.