I was hunting the week of Thanksgiving and I had my first opportunity at a big buck with my Mission Maniac. This deer came right into my feeder but was really spooked because of some pigs that were in the area. I had a quartering away shot at thirty yards and I took it. There was no blood on the arrow, but there was a pretty good blood trail. The trail stopped after fifty yards with no deer at the end. I thought he was gone for good. Three days later I was hunting with my nine year old cousin who had never seen anyone shoot anything with a bow. He was also a little out of it because he had got some nasty scope burn that morning. We had seen nothing all day. Then, right at dark, the split-tine buck came in. I almost had a heart attack. My cousins eyes were as big a saucers. This time I waited for him to come in to twenty five yards. The arrow was soaked. However no blood at all on the ground. We had heard him crash so we knew that he was close. We walked right to him. When we looked at him, we noticed that I had actually cut through the muscle on the top of his neck due to the angle of the first shot. The fact that I was able to get that deer was a blessing in and of itself, but the fact that I got two chances was unbelievable.