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Dave gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up, but I wasn’t so
sure. I had just flung an arrow at a bull elk only to have it
deflected by an unnoticed limb. Dave was smiling but I was just
sick inside knowing that I had wounded such a majestic animal.
But then I heard something that gave me a glimmer of hope.
2002 was going to be a different year. I had a new elk
hunting partner after having the same one for 10 years. 10 years
was how long I had seriously hunted elk. I had taken a cow that
first year but had come up empty for the next 9. Something
always seemed to go wrong and I just could not connect. This was
also the year I decided I wouldn’t put so much pressure on
myself and just have some fun out there. With each unsuccessful
year that went by I had become more negative and I found I
wasn’t having fun anymore.
I had met Dave the year before at the local archery range
and we found that we both had a passion for hunting elk. We also
found out we had some other things in common as well as being
neighbors. Dave and I hunted elk a little differently, but we
each thought we could learn a thing or two from the other.
Dave had a property that he had permission on but had
never scouted. September 10 was the day we picked to scout this
rolling hay and bush quarter.
As we parked the truck Dave told me if we happened to get
into a bull and we were together, he wanted me to have first
chance since I had never shot a bull before. (I still admire the
selflessness Dave displayed that day.) I was not, under any
circumstances, to shoot a cow!
It was early in the evening when we left the truck so I
was surprised when we heard a bull bugle almost immediately. He
was across the field and up on a big hill to the east of us. As
we hurried across the field we noticed a lot of sign in the form
of rubs and tracks. When we got to the edge of the bush we
decided to look for the most beaten game trail coming off the
ridge into the field and wait there quietly for him. We were not
going to call unless he was no longer headed in our direction.
As I got into position I thought I could hear some cow calling
and soon I was sure of it. We had a whole herd of elk coming
down to us! As I waited, those negative thoughts were starting
to rear their ugly heads. ‘What’s going to go wrong this
time?’ ‘The winds good now, but it will change!’ ‘The
cows will spook…’ ‘SOMETHING WILL GO WRONG!!!’
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When the first cow stepped out of the bush my heart
rate went through the roof. This might actually happen! I watched
cow after cow parade by at 20 yards and head over a small rise
into the alfalfa. The urge to shoot was only subdued by the memory
of Dave’s strict instruction, “DON’T SHOOT A COW!”
Suddenly a calf appeared directly downwind. This was not good! It
didn’t spook for some reason and followed the quad trail it was
on right to ten feet of Dave’s hiding place. It stared at Dave
for 30 seconds or so and then peeled toward the cows. The cows
paid no attention to the youngster’s barking but continued on
their way to the smorg. Two more times the calf came and stared at
Dave, ran and barked, and two more times he was ignored. Things
seemed to be going right for me on this scout/hunt. The second to
last cow came out on a trail that was just out of my shooting
range. I was somewhat concerned that the bull would follow her;
only somewhat concerned though, because my partner had that trail
covered. The next cow came out on my trail, but then I waited an
antagonizing five minutes until I heard another elk coming. I
thought this was probably the bull. Finally I saw him threading
his rack through the dense cover. I could tell right away that he
was at least the required 3 points and then my attention turned to
a spot behind his shoulder. He stepped into my shooting lane and
Dave whistled, stopping him perfectly. I had to shoot through a
basketball size hole in the brush about halfway to him. As I
watched my arrow’s flight I heard a sickening tick and saw my
arrow deflect. ‘There it is! The thing that was going to go
wrong!’ The bull spun and ran along the bush and then into it.
There was a lot of crashing and then things slowly went silent. I
knew I had hit the bull and I also knew I had not hit him well. I
was just sick. That is when Dave gave me the thumbs up but I just
shook my head in disgust. And then I heard it! The glimmer! A
gasping, gurgling noise from the direction the bull had run! Could
my luck be both bad and good at the same time? We gave the bull
some time and after a few minutes we could hear a quad coming up
the trail. It was the landowner out for an evening cruise. Had he
shown up a few minutes earlier it could have been disastrous for
us.
After another 20 minutes we
tried to find a blood trail. It was hard, initially because the
bush was so dense. Finally Dave whispered that he had found a
“speck” of blood. What I saw when I got there was crazy. It
looked like someone had poured blood out of a five gallon bucket!
By the time I followed the trail to my bull I had blood from my
boots to my hips, but I didn’t care. I finally had my bull! I
have never been on such a high as when I found that bull. Between
hunting and growing up on a farm I’ve dressed near a hundred
animals but, I was so excited, I had no idea where to even start
on this guy. As Dave grabbed the knife out of my hand he was
laughing at me.
While
we had been waiting the half hour for the bull to expire Dave said
that he thought the bull was a good one. I never even noticed
until the next day that he was indeed a decent bull. The 6x6
scored and even 273” but his frame is bigger than that. The fact
that he has one short 3rd point and one broken 3rd
point hurts his score, but next time you see me ask me if I care!
Some
say the more effort you put into something the sweeter it feels
when you are finally successful. I guess that is part of the
reason some of us hunt with stickbows and it would certainly
explain why that bull is my most treasured trophy!
Written by: Randy Herman |
