Occasionally I hunt from tree stands-Texas towers and blinds situated around bean fields. When I do I use rifles best suited for those conditions and shooting distances. They are not, however, my favorite deer rifles. Call me old-fashioned, but I still prefer still-hunting. It's not because I see more deer that way, because I probably don't, or that I find bigger bucks. But seeing deer isn't the whole point of still-hunting; it's seeing everything. When you're stepping softly from tree to tree, stopping and looking with senses fine-tuned, one sees the world as the deer sees it. And the hour it may take to explore a dozen acres of woodland becomes a journey: Water gurgling under an ice-skimmed creek, deer tracks being filled by feathery flakes of snow and a perched grouse studying you with one eye and then the other become poetry in your journal at day's end. A wool jacket, well-greased old boots and a favorite rifle become, like yourself, not invaders of nature but part of it.