While answering another post I got to thinking of my great grandmother, a full blooded Onondaga Indian. When I was very young we used to go visit her on the reservation near Syracuse NY. When I was in my 40's we had a pair of albino sibling deer that lived in our vicinity. One was a doe and one was a 6 point buck. I was hunting down behind my house in November when the doe came ghosting through the woods 50 yards in front of me. I put the crosshairs on her chest thinking what a beautiful full body mount she would make. I moved my finger to the trigger and I swear I heard my great grandmother whisper in my ear "bad medicine to shoot the ghost deer". I moved my finger off the trigger and sat there shivering. Funny what you think of when out in God's country.