Several years back I was watching a grad student’s presentation. I don’t recall the exact topic but it had something to do with deer-hunter interactions.

He referenced his data came from deer observations by still hunters but something about it didn’t make sense so I took him aside afterward and queried him about his methodology. “We asked all the hunters to record how many deer they saw from their fixed-position stands,” he replied to my question. I very diplomatically explained that he might want to change some of his terminology if he wished to keep his credibility.

Like any sport, deer hunting has its own lexicon, specific terms that are often unfamiliar to the uninitiated. Maybe you’re new to the sport but don’t want to sound like an amateur. Or you have no intention of taking it up but would still like to discuss the sport with your hunting friends without sounding foolish. Whatever, here are a few tips.

Don’t ever ask a deer hunter (or any hunter for that matter) if they caught anything. You’ll almost certainly draw an odd look and likely a few laughs from all but the most indulgent of sportsmen. Whenever anyone asks me that question I respond with something like, “Yeah, I caught a couple but they were too small so I threw ’em back.” The slow ones just stare with a faraway look in their eyes. The quick ones catch on, blush, then chuckle. You catch fish. Deer, you shoot, harvest, tag, bag, bring down, bring home, kill or just plain get, as in: “You get your deer yet?” You may catch them unaware but you still have to shoot them in order to say you’ve accomplished anything.

Going back to our grad student, while it may seem counterintuitive, still-hunting does not mean you sit or stand still. A still-hunter moves very slowly and quietly through the woods, trying to catch a deer unaware of his presence. My friend K.C. from Alabama calls it “slippin” as in, “I’m fixin’ to go slippin’ through that bottom over yonder to see if I can’t sneak up on a deer.” When he says that I always ask why he doesn’t try to see if he can sneak up on a deer. He just looks at me as if I asked if he caught anything.

To make matters even more confusing, a stand is actually where you sit. Yes, you can stand, but it’s not as comfortable. Even if you sit on the ground, if it’s in a specific location, it’s a stand, as in, “I’m gonna go sit on that stand in the bottom, the oak stump, to see if I can’t kill a deer.” If your stand is elevated, it then becomes a treestand. In this instance it’s OK to add the word tree, but that’s not always the case.

One that sometimes chafes me is the confusion between a rub and a scrape. A rub is something you find on a tree. It’s made when a deer rubs his antlers on said tree – thus the name – possibly to rid them of velvet, to build and strengthen neck muscles for the rut or to deposit scent from his forehead glands. I know an old fella who calls them hookings, which I suppose is a sufficient synonym.

I’ve also heard folks refer to them as tree rubs (often by the same people who say “ink pen”), which makes me wonder, “Are there other kinds?” Maybe it’s just so they can remember that rubs are on trees. I’m not sure about the pens.

Scrapes, on the other hand, are on the ground. They’re also made by a buck, when he scrapes away leaves and duff to create a bare patch where he’ll deposit his scent. Though it’s less common, folks do sometimes used the redundant term “ground scrapes.” Again, is there some other kind that I’m not aware of?

This next one can be a real trap. Deer have antlers, not horns. We all know this, yet even the most dyed-in-the-red-plaid-wool veterans often refer to them as horns. And when they do, some folks are just naturally included to correct them. If you’re not a hunter and you do so, you’ll likely be acknowledged for at least knowing the difference. Then the story teller will go on to regale you with a tale about the buck with the big horns. If you are a hunter and you interrupt a veteran to correct them on this point, you will have revealed your sophomore status and will likely be resigned to washing camp dishes for the remainder of the hunt.

Bob Humphrey is a freelance writer and registered Maine guide who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at:

bhunt@maine.rr.com