I didn't walk far before my suspicions about the eagle were confirmed. Lying on the edge of the food plot, his antlers tangled in grass and brush, was a buck my cameras had captured at least a dozen times. My hunting buddy Alan and I nicknamed him "The Stranger Buck" because he suddenly appeared on the farm in September, just after velvet shed. He hadn't been running with any of the summer bachelor groups we knew about. And we were glad to see him; with his abnormal tines and stickers, plus a solid 8-point main frame, he was the kind of buck that got into your head—and could stop your heart if you ever saw him from a treestand.