Contract Killing

Meanwhile, the deer season for gun-hunting on public property in Ohio lasts less than two weeks, and it could take days to stalk a buck that makes the trip worthwhile. And public lands are becoming increasingly crowded.

The average hunter will find a way around this. He'll go to the great woods of Wayne National Forest in southeast Ohio and wait to hear the sloshing of deer feet near a beaver dam. He'll scout the farm of a family friend or a woods he has known since childhood. It's largely the well-to-do, especially those from southern states, who are seeking less traditional options.

In Texas, for example, most of the land is privately owned, so the monied set flocks to hunting ranches, leasing outfits, and private clubs. They'll pay to shoot deer the way others might save up to shoot exotic elk or wild boar. Dick Cheney was quail hunting on the private, 50,000-acre Armstrong Ranch last year when he accidentally shot a friend.

Ronnie Branton, the owner of a South Carolina building company, is a loyal customer of World Class Whitetails. He says that he has to join clubs to hunt where he lives. That means paying a fee, then settling for whatever buck he can find. That doesn't bode well for the trophy collection decorating the walls of his game room. Yoder's ranch provides much better odds.

"You can spend $4,000 to $5,000 quick, just hoping to see one," Branton says of the odds back home. "You can come up here and be guaranteed something you'd be proud of."

This attitude is what separates preserve hunters from the masses. The majority of hunters would never pay to shoot domesticated deer in a pen. It runs afoul of the whole man-against-beast ethic of the sport — not to mention that it lacks the serenity of traversing wild lands. "It gives all hunters a bad perception in the public eye," says Thomas.

In fact, many hunters say the shrinking selection of private land has nothing to do with the rise of these preserves. "You're dealing with people that are lazy. They want instant gratification," says Kevin Hisey, executive secretary of the Pope & Young Club, a national bow-hunting group. "Let's go shoot a critter on a game farm, 'cause it's fast and easy."

Pope & Young, like many traditional hunting institutions, refuses to recognize trophy deer killed in fenced preserves. In some states, such as Montana, hunters have lobbied to make the preserves illegal. The venerable Boone and Crockett Club, founded by Teddy Roosevelt, "condemns the pursuit and killing of any big game animal kept in or released from captivity to be killed in an artificial or bogus 'hunting' situation," its website declares.

Even some groups that refrain from criticizing the practice can't hide their distaste.

"It's our basic feeling that there should be enough space that the animal has a reasonable chance of eluding a hunter," says Anthony Aeschliman of the National Shooting Sports Foundation.

Yet it's hard to exactly define what constitutes a fair chase. How many acres are enough to give animals free rein? Malloy notes that Ohio releases pheasants in public hunting areas. And many lakes are stocked with fish raised in hatcheries. "When does it cross the line?"

Whitetails Unlimited's position is that "as long as it's legal, then it's OK," says Davis. But to him, hunting is more about pursuit and traditions — like freezing in a cramped shack or cooking meals with your son — than bagging a trophy.

"I think it really gets back to what the individual's hunting ethic is," he says. "If your hunting ethic is to go into the woods and pit yourself against a wild animal . . . it's sort of a humbling experience. Some people don't want to be humbled."

Back in Millersburg, Yoder's customers aren't a modest breed. Most are executive types from places like Texas, Alabama, Georgia, and the Carolinas, where the native deer are much smaller. Yoder estimates he gets around 100 hunters a year.

They come partly because of Ohio's reputation for trophy bucks. Last fall, a deer shot in Adams County became a celebrity in the hunting world when it scored more than 300 on the Boone and Crockett scale — nearing the world record for "non-typical" whitetails, which have elaborate antlers pointing in different directions. That same season, a buck felled in Brush Creek State Forest scored 197, becoming one of the largest "typical" bucks ever entered in the Pope & Young record book. While these animals were killed in Ohio's wilderness, they still serve as a marketing tool to attract southern preserve hunters.