I was unable to source a dog the day of the shot, so I went in the day after, at first light, on my own. The buck's desperate tracks going straight down to the holler made him easy to follow. Because of the high hit and no pass through there was sporadic blood, but the blood that I did find was lung blood (air bubbles dried as dots within blood). I made it to the bottom, approximately 150 yds, expecting to find him piled up in the stream bed. Instead, he went up a steep bank and continued on side-hill trail for another 50 yds before I lost blood. I walked a straight line for another 75 yds with no luck before turning around and heading out. I am in big, rugged, contiguous woods, so once again the only viable option was to still pursue a dog handler. Finally, 56 hours after the shot (9:30pm Saturday night), Charles Miller (Miller's Deer Recovery Services of Lebanon, TN) and his bloodhound Dallas arrived to my cabin. I had flagged the entire blood trail with toilet paper. Dallas found my first toilet paper mark and followed the exact trail. He hit on the buck immediately at last blood and continued aggressively for 600 yds before he lost a good scent. We never found a bed or pooled up blood, and the buck was paying no mind to the terrain. The only thing that would have bumped him for miles would have been coyotes. I am gutted that I didn't make a perfect shot and that there is a chance that the buck is laying dead somewhere out there never to be found.