Into the woods: a nature-themed dwelling offers a refuge for those seeking whitetail deer or an out-of-the way escape.

You don't have to be a deerslayer to fall under the spell of Hickory Hills Hunting Preserve, a 2,000-plus-acre mecca for the serious hunter, but it helps. Wives and non-hunters are welcome, but they should arrive with a strong love of the outdoors, a taste for the weighty and masculine in architecture and interiors, and a healthy appetite for plenty of home-cooked food.

Located a bit outside the tiny town of Hermanville, near Port Gibson, Hickory Hills provides serious sport and serene, luxurious accommodations for those who relish an evening of fine food, crackling fires, and downy bedding after a hard day stalking and shooting whitetail deer in season. There is also a skeet-shooting range on the property.

In addition to several varieties of exotic deer, the hunter (or photographer) is likely to spot Russian boar and Eastern wild turkey on the densely forested land. The preserve sits in the middle of some 12,000 acres owned by the Adams family.

"It's strictly a family operation," says Sean Adams, who, with his brother, Shannon, and Shannon's wife, Lee, assumes all the duties of seeing that guests get the most out of a hunting weekend.

Parents Kay and Joe Adams are very much a hands-on presence as well, helping their children provide hospitality in this massive, Normanesque estate house, with its heavy use of natural materials that also suggests an Adirondack flavor. Designed by architect Sam Coker, the 9,000-square-foot Texas-limestone dwelling is laid out more like a family home than a hostelry, and this is indeed what it was initially designed to be.

"We originally built this as a family get-together place," says Shannon, "a place where all three generations could enjoy holidays together. Then it occurred to us that this might make a really good commercial-hunting venture. So we opened it to paying guests, and it's been very well-received."

Small wonder. The visitor unloading luggage in the circular drive, mounting the stone steps to the timbered porch, senses immediately that these are no ordinary rough-and-tumble barracks. Passing through the foyer, entering the great hall (well, all right, living room, but it's impossible to refrain from using medieval terminology when describing this place), there is a sudden sense of timelessness. This could be King Arthur's Camelot, or Lancelot du Lac's Joyous Gard, right there on the Claiborne-Copiah county line.

Heart-pine floors underfoot, cypress-beamed ceilings soaring 30 feet above, and a full-height massive stone chimneypiece anchor this vast space, with its deep, nubby sofas and generously scaled chairs. There are paintings hung about, but the majority of the wall art is blood-sport-themed: heads of trophy deer and, in one corner, two large stuffed Kodiak bears from one of the Adams' hunting trips to Alaska. A pool table anchors the end of the enormous room nearest the kitchen. Three sets of tall French doors, dressed with subtly patterned dark linen curtains, open onto a generously proportioned rear terrace.

The dining room off the great hall, featuring oils by Emmitt Thames and bronzes by Bruce Brady, is the setting for delicious wild-game suppers and hearty breakfasts. The banquet-size room is flooded with filtered light from a huge picture window across the far wall, and a large fireplace offers warmth on chilly autumn evenings. Above the long table, flanked by comfortable upholstered chairs, a custom-designed and locally forged iron chandelier mimics pine branches, complete with slender iron needles and a perching squirrel.

All meals are cooked in the huge state-of-the-art kitchen by Kay Hood Adams and her daughter-in-law, Lee. Deep mulberry walls, honey-colored cypress cabinetry, rich brown granite, and gleaming stainless steel continue the masculine theme while providing for the cooks' every need.

"We don't have a set menu," says Lee. "When guests reserve a room for the weekend, we kind of ask them what they like, what their preferences are, and plan what we'll feed them on a custom basis."

"It's always great," comments Shannon. "Nobody goes to bed hungry here."

When guests do go upstairs to bed, dead tired from a day in the woods, they discover that the Adamses have provided for their every need. Five spacious bedrooms, each with its own particular character, feature satellite television, private telephones, and full baths. Most of the bedrooms also boast huge stone fireplaces. The fabrics and papers selected manage to be rustic and elegant at once, with hand-blocked depictions of acanthus leaves and bold stags.

Behind the house, wrapped on three sides by the lower story, is a deep covered slate terrace with a view of a stone fountain. The landscaping is kept simple to the point of minimalism; for one thing, the exquisite deep woodland surrounding the house provides a natural beauty no imposed plantings could match, and for another, "Any flowers or shrubs we could plant would be eaten by the deer that wander up," notes Sean, a former forester.

The tall double doors to the terrace are thrown open in good weather, providing indoor-outdoor flow for large gatherings such as wedding rehearsal parties and corporate retreats.

A large master suite down a short hall from the main living area serves as the elder Adams' quarters when they are in residence; its imposing centerpiece is a king-sized bed fabricated by Hattiesburg builder Adam Hodges of fat hickory logs harvested in the woods nearby. The two sons live elsewhere on the vast property (a daughter, Linden, lives in Atlanta). Shannon and Lee, with their two little boys, are planning to build a new home, continuing the country-chic theme of the "big house."

Rounding out the populace of this sprawling family estate are a variety of pets, who seem perfectly at home. Chief, a Rhodesian ridgeback; Angel, a fluffy cream-colored cat; and Cotton, a white dove who inhabits her own French wire cage and provides a soft background music of coos and chirrups, seem to enjoy life here as much as anyone.

Off-season, even the nature-lover who doesn't know one end of a gun from the other would find perfect respite from daily cares by seeking out this magical preserve and following the sinuous gravel road to Hickory Hills.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY GREG CAMPBELL