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» Trad Gang.com » Main Forums » PowWow » The Monarch of Bull Mountain --DONE!-- (Page 18)

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Author Topic: The Monarch of Bull Mountain --DONE!--
oklahomaleatherman
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Thanks for taking care of us before opening day sir! Anxiously awaiting more.

You mentioned that copies would be available and I would like to get my name in on two copies please and thank you. I'd be happy to pay for them and postage just let me know.

God bless you,
K.C.

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Oklahoma Selfbow Society member
Oklahoma Bowhunting Council member

Posts: 268 | From: Oklahoma | Registered: Apr 2010  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
jhg
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The archer kept trying to close the valve on the gas line. It hissed as the gas escaped even as he torqued the wrench tighter and tighter. He had to turn it off! He put the weight of his body onto the wrench and then in front of his vision knelt his daughter, her headlamp lit against the early morning darkness shrouding the North slope of Bull Mountain. She was boiling water on their roarer gas stove. For a moment he was confused, the dream so real. But there in front of him was the little stove, its burner hissing merrily to the task. The archer laughed to himself. He sat up under the open tarp shelter, rubbing his eyes as he shivered against the chill. Seeing movement, his daughter greeted the archer with a "Get up Dad!", but ignored his request for the time. He found his watch tucked where he had left it under the edge of his sleeping pad. It was 3:15AM. The archers body wanted sleep, but he only had himself to blame for the early bird making a hot breakfast for them both on the little one burner stove. He also knew better than to display any reluctance getting up. Taking the steaming cup his daughter offered with a thank you, the archer set his mind for what he knew was going to become a long, interesting day.
The daughter reviewed the hunt they would bring to the Monarch of Bull Mountain. Between spoonfuls of oatmeal, she confirmed the route the two bowhunters had decided would bring them to where the Bull might have gone with his cows. She checked the map against her compass that she lay along its declination marks the way her father had taught her so long ago. She reflected on the constricting contour lines seemingly so benevolent on the maps flat surface that actually meant such profound physical challenge. They had planned to cut under the bench the elk herd had escaped to, playing the mornings downslope breeze to their benefit. They would stalk up from below the elk feeding up on the bench, then finally make a set up to call the big bull out to them. They had to get under the elk before the thermals changed direction and brought their scent up slope to the bulls harem. They needed to climb up from their camp to the high top, circle its North rim, descend into the deep gulch of black timber behind it, then fight back up through the old growth blow downs and dead falls guarding its steep slopes. The plan was a demanding one, both of time and of physical expenditure. It ignored the reality that they might not be able to do it...

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Learn, practice and pass on "leave no trace" ethics, no matter where you hunt.

Posts: 1105 | From: colorado | Registered: May 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
AZStickman
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Joshua...... I was hoping I would get to read another segment before heading up to the high country tomorrow for my Deer / Turkey / Lion hunt. I, like Killdeer, and many others I'm sure, find your writing so good I don't want this story to end...... Thanks for taking the time to share this with all of us and good luck on the mountain this year!!...... Terry

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"The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.".. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Posts: 2681 | From: Mesa, AZ | Registered: Mar 2003  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
jhg
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The last segment is later today so check back.

J-

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Learn, practice and pass on "leave no trace" ethics, no matter where you hunt.

Posts: 1105 | From: colorado | Registered: May 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
ron w
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[campfire] [coffee] Can't wait....but I really don't want to see it end! [thumbsup]

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In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities. In the expert's there are few...So the most difficult thing is always to keep your beginner's mind...This is also the real secret of the arts: always be a beginner. Shunryu Suzuki

Posts: 9287 | From: tribes hill , new york | Registered: Jan 2008  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
jhg
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The archer came up short and called out softly to his daughter, whose headlamp he could see bobbing just a short distance ahead of him. Alpen glow scribed the horizon to the West of the high top with a thin ruby line. The faint blush of sunrise was already on the Eastern edge of the horizon, back lighting the rugged topography of the surrounding peaks. Two cloud formations hung suspended above it all, silent and tilted like the very tectonic plates that had themselves humped up from the earth's incredible internal pressures to form much of the Wests mountain ranges. The archer had been following his daughter all morning up the steep slope of Bull Mountain. He had become aware of an immutable fact. The last two days of hunting had drained him while it seemed to make his daughter stronger. Her youth thrived on the physical intensity of the challenging terrain. It was the first time he had not been able to choose his position and he knew he was only glimpsing the future for himself. But he was reflective about what it meant. The archer had seen enough challenges in his life to know when to accept what he could not change. Most of his friends had long ago fallen away from the physical demands that he still embraced. He had chosen to remain doing what he loved best for as long as he could. If that meant he had to follow his daughter because he had slowed down, so be it. All the hard work of preparing his body was a small price of admission to witness the dawning day, bowhunting upon the high top of Bull Mountain with his daughter. He knew one day soon her own interests and her own family would make what they were experiencing together a memory. He accepted that too. With these thoughts in his mind he caught up to her in the dimly lit forest.
They had stopped just inside the edge of an open park. The belly high grasses from a wet summer were now tipped with frost and bent gently in golden waves across the meadow. The day broadened. They could now see the sawtooth outline of the dark timber above them and the opening centered in the timber was a bowl, the warming sky its domed lid. It reminded the archer of the evening he had spent at Husky's, when he had only just begun to decipher how to hunt the Monarch.

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Learn, practice and pass on "leave no trace" ethics, no matter where you hunt.

Posts: 1105 | From: colorado | Registered: May 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
jhg
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They laid out their map of the high top and decided on another way to approach the Monarch and his cows. As the archer waited for his daughter to fold the map, a faint bugle floated across the meadow near them. The daughter shifted her longbow to her off hand and checked the three arrows in its small quiver. The bowhunters moved forward, hearing more bulls bugling with each yard they traveled. The archers daughter started running. She knew they had a chance. If it was the Monarch that was being surrounded in the timber it might be the only one they would get. She looked back at her father and the archer saved his breath, motioning only:

"GO!"

They ran, keeping to the timber along the linked parks they had slowly stalked through the day before. Each meadow fell behind them and the sky grew brighter above them. A pair of raven pumped across the blushed horizon ahead, unnoticed. The bugling bulls grew louder. The bowhunters could hear the differences now between them. It was a contest for the herd bulls cows in the timber. The archer knew a bull being tested like this would not hold his place long. He thought he could hear the base note of the big bull answering the others in a rage. The archer and his daughter ran and ran and ran. They broke through the woven limbs of tightly spaced spruce and charged over dead falls. The archer watched his daughter ahead of him plow through a shallow pool of standing water, spray coming off her in every direction, then coil her body to leap over a four foot tall blow down. It was incredible. He had to climb over it, the obstacle too much for him to attempt.
They were breaking branches and snapping brush that blocked their path, but it made no difference. They had no reason to be quiet.
The archer shifted his bow to his off hand trying to balance his gait. They were running slightly up slope and it hurt. The daughter was becoming smaller, steadily widening the gap between them. The archer was about to attempt whistling her to stop when she suddenly went down onto her knees, skidding on the wet ground cover of mixed needles and leaves. He watched her slide into a scarred aspen. almost knocking it over.
The bulls continued their yelling contest as the archer, panting hard, ran up to where his daughter crouched.
She had almost run into the open of an aspen glade, just stopping in time to remain undetected. In front of them he could see several cow elk as they trotted through the scarred trees. He could smell them and hear their excited cow talk. A bull bugled no more than 30 yards to their off side. Someplace farther into the glade came an infuriated answer. That bull was mad. His daughter was intent on the unfolding drama in front of her. The archer grabbed his daughters shoulder and pulled her ear close to him.
He whispered urgently. They had only a few minutes before the whole place blew up. He could feel the tension in the air.

"We'll set up here! Keep in front of the cover so you can make a shot! I am going back about 30 yards and will call that big herd bull out to you! Be ready, because its going to happen fast."

"Dad, do you think its the Monarch?" her voice was almost pleading, but he couldn't lie to her.

"I don't know. Maybe. Its a big bull though."

"But what if its not the Monarch?" Her eyes were intent. The archer met her stare.

"Do NOT pass on this herd bull. Whatever he is, he is worthy."

The archer wondered even as he delivered this lesson if it would be one of the last he had to teach her. He knew his daughter was spreading her wings to fly out into the world on her own. The time for lessons was ending.

"I'll try Dad" and she looked at him with the familiar, open expression he loved. He knew she would make up her own mind when the moment came, but would consider his advice. It was all he asked. That was enough.

He tried to be serious as he turned to go, but his voice had mischief in it.

"Keep an arrow nocked..." and the archer ran back into the timber behind them.

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Learn, practice and pass on "leave no trace" ethics, no matter where you hunt.

Posts: 1105 | From: colorado | Registered: May 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
ron w
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So now I'm on the edge of my seat........

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In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities. In the expert's there are few...So the most difficult thing is always to keep your beginner's mind...This is also the real secret of the arts: always be a beginner. Shunryu Suzuki

Posts: 9287 | From: tribes hill , new york | Registered: Jan 2008  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
SELFBOW19953
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Joshua,

I won't second guess you, but you wouldn't do this to us, would you-counting coup??

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SELFBOW19953
"When I aim at something, that's what I hit. When I hit something, that's what I aimed at." Loretta Young in "Along Came Jones"

Posts: 1675 | From: DELAWARE | Registered: Mar 2003  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
Doc Nock
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Summmer ain't over yet! He said it would take all summer! [bigsmyl] [Not Worthy] [readit]

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The words "Child" and "terminal illness" should never share the same sentence! Those who care-do, others question!

TGMM Family of the Bow
Sasquatch 60" T/D, R/D LB

Posts: 11101 | From: L@ncaster County, PA | Registered: Mar 2003  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
jhg
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The milling harem of cow elk and the bulls surrounding them made the glade into a passion play. The scarred aspen became the set pieces and the brightening sky above Bull Mountain the theater lights. The daughter moved to the side a few yards to wait under a lone spruce that tilted away from the chorus in front of her. She knelt in front of its brown trunk, nocked her favorite arrow and waited.
In a few seconds she could hear her father begin the sequence he knew would bring out the big herd bull. She glanced around to find where he had hidden, but she could not see anything and she quickly returned her attention to the glade. The archer was making distressed cow squeals. He kept at this, making sure all the other elk in the glade could hear the panic in the whines. He kept it up, then followed it quickly with a bulls demanding cow call bugle. Without waiting, he then squealed more distressed cow whines. The daughter didn't dare look, but her father sounded so real she was not sure it was him or another part of the confusion overflowing all around her. Another moment passed and the archer let out another bull bugle. He hadn't finished when the herd bull answered with a scream that overtook the archers. The bull was mad and the archer could hear him coming. Heavy branches and limbs where breaking from someplace deeper in the glade. He was coming! The archer could see his daughters bow peak out from behind the big spruce directly in front of his set up. He let off another bugle followed by another distress squeal. The herd bull screamed over him again. The archer could feel the sweat building on his palms. He wiped them on his shirt unconsciously.
The bull was coming. He could see just a bit of his daughters shoulder behind the spruce. The the big bull was coming! The archer saw a flash of antler among the scarred and stunted aspen of the glade. The flash became a massive rack floating through the trees like a ghost ship. The archer suddenly saw the tan body of a very large bull under the wide set antlers. The animal wove a path through the stunted trees that lay between between him and the archers daughter. Cows milled around everywhere. Other bulls bugled. The herd bull screamed again and this time the sound was deafening. He was close to the daughters hiding place under the big spruce. The archer watched him clear the last few trees in front of her. He could see the bulls left flank for a moment. There, the long scars left by the Black Bull of Deadman Gulch lay in the tan fur like brands. It was the Monarch! The archer watched the big stag walk toward his daughter. Before he knew it, the giant bull was almost upon her. He kept coming. The bull was too close. His antlers where on both sides of the spruce trunk, surrounding its base on both sides with their sharp and glinting tines. The bull was only a few feet from the daughter. He raised his head and lay his crown of horns along his back. The bugle was like a train horn in the forest. The archer lept up, shedding his pack. He could see the bull start to bob his head, his antlers visible on each side of the daughters hiding place. Limbs above her began to break and fall down onto the ground around her as the Monarchs fury destroyed them. The archer heard his daughter yell. He began running toward her. As he ran, he pulled an arrow. He couldn't keep it in his hand and balance. Without thinking, he put it between his teeth and using his bow in his off hand like a staff the archer lept over the uneven ground that lay between him and his daughters cry. The Monarch was standing in front of her place at the base of the tree. The archer was running hard. He snapped off an aspen as he ran through it with his shoulder down. It sounded like a rifle shot as it sheared off. The Monarch stepped around the spruce tree to meet the challenger, but he saw the archer leaping toward him instead. The giant bull wheeled and with antlers back ran crashing into the protection of the glade.

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Learn, practice and pass on "leave no trace" ethics, no matter where you hunt.

Posts: 1105 | From: colorado | Registered: May 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
4dogs
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O BOY

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>>>---TGMM, Family of the Bow--->

Posts: 1264 | From: Colorado | Registered: Apr 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
oklahomaleatherman
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HUH? Didn't see that coming! More PLEASE..........

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Oklahoma Selfbow Society member
Oklahoma Bowhunting Council member

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jhg
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The archer came around the tree his daughter was crouched against. She was pressed into its knarled skin. He could see tears running down her cheeks. He called her name and she was in his arms, her face pressed against the rough wool of his hunting shirt.

"Oh Dad! All I could see was HIM! All I could hear was HIM! All I could smell was HIM"

"I could hear him breathing Dad! It sounded like a bellows! He looked right at me! He looked me in the eye!"

The archer tightened his hug on his daughter.

She began to sob.
"I am sooo sorry. I am sooo, so sorry. I know it's my fault."

The archer hadn't realized it until that moment, but he had misjudged things he had been very certain of. The archer realized he wasn't the only one who had suffered when their family had broken apart, even if he had thought differently.
He took his daughter by the shoulders and stepped gently back. He dipped his head to meet her gaze and when he had it, he looked into her as only a parent can.
He spoke the only words he knew would sooth her. Not words of consolation, but words that were the truth. He told her things that should have been said a long time ago. There in the deep forest of Bull Mountain, the archer finally emptied his soul of all its regret and the grief he had been carrying so long floated away into the clean air of the high top. He spoke the words he knew needed to be spoken and in doing that two hearts let go of their pain. His daughter buried her face into his embrace again in a way she hadn't in a long, long time. He could feel her sobs diminish until her breathing slowed and the tension fell out of her body. A big hawk screamed its intent in the sky above them as it tilted toward some unknowable destination.
The archer and his daughter gathered their bows and began the long walk down off of Bull Mountain. As they traveled the game trails and linked them together, the archer watched his daughter ahead of him slowly regain the familiar bounce that was her trade mark. They stopped to listen to a bull elk bugle, far away in the direction they had come. It was the Monarch. The daughter jumped up onto a big rock.

"Hey Monarch!" she yelled and gave the archer a look he had seen before.

"You won't be so lucky next time, so you better watch out!"

The mighty bull bugled again, as if in response, the long scream trailing away in the wind.
The daughter laughed and jumped down to the ground. The archer knew then it was going to be alright from now on. He met his daughters intent look with his own. He had seen that look before, when she was about to put away the championship game.
The daughter turned and with a bounce started down the mountain.

Watch out is right, he thought and the archer fell in behind his young bowhunter.


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Join the archer, his daughter and Husky next year as they team up to once again hunt the mighty Monarch of Bull Mountain and learn the secret that will change their lives forever.


Thanks to everyone for helping me through this. I know its not perfect, but it was fun writing it anyway. Good luck hunting this fall and may a little of the daughter be in us all when the big boy steps into the shooting lane.

Joshua

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Learn, practice and pass on "leave no trace" ethics, no matter where you hunt.

Posts: 1105 | From: colorado | Registered: May 2009  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
hardwaymike
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Can't wait until next season Josh! I hope she gets him. Wow! Wow! Wow! I haven't been on the edge of my seat like that over a story since Big Dan and Lil Ann were chasin coons through the Ozarks. Thank you very much Sir. Mike

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"A road is a dagger placed in the heart of a wilderness." -William O. Douglas

Believe it or not the "HARDWAY" is often the EASIER way(in hindsight)!
2xOIF VET
Bear Cub #48@28"

Posts: 970 | From: Gladwin Michigan | Registered: Oct 2007  |  IP: Logged | Report this post to a Moderator
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