A .44 Mag is surely fine for deer, but let me tell you a tale about a .44 Mag and a moose. I was hunting the Selawik east of Kotzebue. I had a moose tag, but really wasn't planning to shoot a moose, but to use it on a caribou (legal to do that in AK). With my faithful buddy in tow one fine morning, I called up a nice 54" bull moose--to 20 yards, then chased him off. What the hell, so I called him back again, chased him off again, and called to him again, cause my pard was getting a grin, and since he didn't have a moose tag, was going ballistic wanting me to shoot him. No way! I already know how much work that means--but the third time, he showed up with the biggest bull I've ever seen, both in body and in horn. Now, good sense abandoms me and I decide I have to shoot this monster! Redhawk with HOT loads using a 260 gr LBT, 2x scope. At 75 yards I smacked him real good right behind the shoulder (using my backpack for a rest). He nearly went down, buckeling more than any I've shot with a .338. But he kept walking (toward the river--that's good). I hit him once again at about 85 yards (more on the results of this shot later). I then missed a shot--I know, how can you miss a moose, but adrenelin was flowing pretty good by now. Well, he now enters into scrub willow & spruce out of sight--but going toward the river--good! I jumped up without moving my eyes from where he went in the brush and start that way, saying to my pard over my shoulder, without looking, to bring my pack. As I'm walking, I reload the 3 empty chambers. I soon came upon him (and his 54" buddy). He was down, didn't even have his head up, and his breathing sounded like a bubble bath. I was 15' behind him, and contemplated a shot in the back of the head, but decided that would just mess up the horns/scullplate, so I didn't. He was obviously going to expire any second. Bad decision! I'd noticed that my buddy wasn't with me (turns out his rifle sling broke when he stood to follow and he was monkeying around fixing it) so I hollered over my shoulder "I'm over here!". Instantly, that bull was on his feet facing me at 15'. I knew things weren't going good! I shot him dead on in the chest. He never flinched, but charged! I turned around and made 1 step before he got me. I remember looking up at his belly, and covering my head with my arms. I suspect there was more that might have showed up on film, but that's all I recall. Next thing, I'm on my knees, 12' and he's facing me obviously ready for another round. Don't ask how, but I've still got the Redhawk in my hand. I am fully aware that things aren't going too well, so smack him again in the chest. Nothing! Now this part is strang, but to me, I had time to think, make a decision to shoot him betwixt the eyes, take careful aim, and do so. Game over. The funny part is that my pard says that I shot those last 2 shots so fast that he didn't beleive a Redhawk could be fired twice that fast! Anyway, life got calmer now. It was a full 45 minutes before enough adrenelin subsided for me to realize I had a 2" deep hole in my back where a horn point went in. Luckily missed my kidney, so I'm still around. That second shot--it hit a rib--and stopped! Didn't break the rib! Mind you, that rib was just about exactly the size of a 1x4, and the bullet had passed through his hide, about an inch of fat plus about an inch of muscle, but the rib stopped it. The rib was bruised and red, but not broken. The first shot had gone between ribs and through his heart. He was dead, but hadn't received word of such. Of the 2 frontal shots, one thrashed the lungs and the other also hit the heart. This guy had a hard time getting the message! Well, I decided that a .44 Mag wasn't big enough for moose, and as soon as I got home to sunny Nevada, I sold it--gun, scope, holster, dies, mold, everything. But I reckon a .44 ought to work on deer. Be careful!!
