Movement against the drab gray and brown forest floor caught my attention. It was definitely a deer, a fact I confirmed with my 10X binoculars. Judging by its demeanor, it had some place it wanted to be.

The little bottleneck connected two areas of deer promise: a dense thicket of tall grass and brush and, at the other end, a field of standing corn bordered by a clover field. I was sure that any deer in the area would pass through the bottleneck rather expose themselves by walking across plowed ground. The deer, a six-month-old buck fawn, passed within 20 paces of my log ground blind.

He was headed to the corn and clover field to feed. I glanced at my watch. It was 11:15.

My day-long vigil was almost half over. Earlier that morning, while dressing for the day, the Weather Channel maps indicated a severe cold front would pass through our area later that afternoon.

Over many years as a wildlife biologist and hunter, I knew that whitetails tend to feed ravenously before the passing of a major cold front--especially in areas where there is a limited food supply. I wanted to take full advantage of this late-season storm because, in four days, Iowa's late muzzleloader deer season would be history.

A few days earlier, I had been talking with the farmer on whose property I was hunting. I wanted to learn as much as possible about the late-season habits of his deer, and as we sat in his den to talk, he showed me on a map the fields where he had seen late-season bucks, and it was he who suggested the stand I hunted.

"Been a monstrously massive buck living in that area for a while. I've hunted him myself, but each time I've seen him during the season he was beyond comfortable range of my sidelock," he said.

"Got his sheds from last year," he said, reaching behind his easy chair and producing the buck's cast antlers. "He's a basic eight-point with several kickers, but as you can see, he's pretty heavy."

Indeed he was. The circumference at the base was seven inches easy, and the mass carried well throughout the beams. He would certainly be a great buck to hunt for, so I was quite willing to wait out whatever weather Mother Nature wanted to dish out.

About noon it started snowing. It started as mere wisps of snow and soon grew in intensity, and it wasn't long before the ground was covered with white. Throughout midday and early afternoon, a number of does and bucks--both youngsters and nearly mature males--walked through the little bottom on their way to the field. I waited patiently, and soon the snow was coming down so hard that I could scarcely see more than 30 yards. At about three o'clock, a huge-bodied deer appeared mystically out of the snowstorm, walking my way. He came at a slow, deliberate and cautious pace--taking a few steps, identifying each and every scent, looking for abnormal movement, listening for the sources of any potential danger.

I couldn't see his antlers at first, just his body from about mid-neck on down. His hocks were darkly stained--the sure sign of a mature buck--even though the rut had been over for at least three weeks. I quickly swapped binoculars for my Knight .50 caliber in-line.

Perseverance is usually what separates the "haves"--those who get their deer--from the "have nots." Preparing for the weather will enable you to stick it out longer and hunt more effectively.

My heart rate increased with each step the deer took, and several anxious moments later he stepped clear. I couldn't believe my eyes--no way this was a doe. I cranked up my Swarovski variable scope to full power and took a closer look. It indeed was a buck, a buck that had recently cast his antlers, probably within the last 24 hours. Judging from the size of the pedicel attachment areas, it had to be the massive eight-point I was looking for.

He was safe, at least for another year--unless another hunter mistook him for a big doe. Bucks casting their antlers before season's end is one of the pitfalls of late-season hunts in some places.

The bucks I saw during the next three extremely cold, blizzard-blowing days of hunting all fell below my minimum harvest requirement of being at least four years or age. A previous Iowa late muzzleloader season extending into January had been considerably kinder. Under similar weather conditions, I shot a 28-inch-wide eight-point with a drop tine. I took that buck about 10 minutes before the end of the season. Just goes to show that late-season success can come down to the absolute last moments. Depending upon where you hunt, the late season can be great, iffy or poor. As a youngster living and hunting on the western edge of southeastern Texas, late-season hunting meant you probably were only going through the motions. Hunting pressure was heavy, and if you didn't take your buck during the first week of the season, chances were pretty good it would be next fall before you got another chance.

The bucks that survived the first week of the season, which opened after the rut was over, went into hiding or became largely nocturnal. Under those conditions, simple persistence was the key. You had to hunt hard all day long--either in bedding area or along what you hoped were daylight travel corridors.

The best advice I can give under these conditions is simply to go hunting. For darn sure you're not going to shoot a deer if you're sitting in the house, moping about not having taken your buck earlier in the season.

If you hunt in an area where there is considerable hunting pressure and the rut is over by the time your hunting season gets underway, don't despair--keep hunting. Several friends of mine hunt such areas, and they have taken some really nice bucks during the late season, long after other hunters have given up.

Are they great hunters? I'm sure they'd like to think so. But the fact remains they really don't know any secrets or have any isolated honey holes that no one else can hunt. They take bucks late in the season because they don't get discouraged--they hunt.

True, they work small pockets other hunters pass by: small thickets or tall grass areas in otherwise open fields or grassy pastures. Yes, they hunt overlooked areas close to camp and next to neighboring houses. They also hunt food sources right before the approach of severe weather fronts and immediately after they pass. But those aren't secrets; they are merely common-sense approaches to hunting whitetails.