Funniest story while hunting?

[Yoder]

I was bow hunting with my wife a couple years ago. She was in a hang on stand and I was in a climber next to her. We were about 20ft off the ground. It was getting dark, so I climbed down. She was using a crossbow and can't climb down with it and was too worried to lower it on a rope, so I would climb up and take it from her. It's completely dark by now. I just get under her tree to climb up and I hear her say "oh sh*t!" Thank God! I didn't look up. Something hits me in the top of the head, hard. It hurt like hell so I put my hand on top of my head and came away covered in blood. She dropped a crossbow bolt on my head! She was trying to put it back into the quiver and dropped it. It was only about a 1 in gash in my head but I was bleeding like a stuck pig. Now she's freaking out. She almost threw the crossbow out of the tree to climb down. I reminded her how much all my gear costs, and that I would rather bleed out than leave it all. I took my shirt off and stuck it on my head , then put my hat over it. I packed up the stands and we started walking out. Right before we got to my car I ran into a guy I know. He asked "hows it going?" I started laughing and said I've been better. When I got close enough he saw the blood and it actually scared him. I looked like something out of a horror movie. The whole thing was pretty comical. I sent pictures to my buddies and they were "disappointed with the penetration and the blood trail".

 

[Silver Wings]

All through the 80s my extended family an I hunted Northern Baja for all manner of birds. Some of the most amazing upland hunting you can even imagine.
On one occasion my cousin and I were working a scattered covey of California Quail from a bluff overlooking the Pacific down a drainage to the beach. Halfway down he ran out of shells and he asked me to throw him a couple. We were on opposite sides of the drainage, about 20 yards apart. I underhand lobbed 3 shells in a row and he caught the first 2, but dropped the third. He bent over to pick up the shell and unbeknownst to him I generously launched a 4th. The high, arching trajectory of the shell was perfect and it came down brass first, hitting him right on the forehead as he stood up. Though stunned and bleeding from a 1/2” cut, he continued the push down the drainage…all the while muttering a torrent of profanity.
40 years later I never miss the opportunity to ask him how he’s fixed for shells whenever we bird hunt together.