A Montana Longbow Adventure :
As the alarm clock rang out, I paused and gathered my wits about what I would hopefully drop the string on before lunch. I then hurried out of bed and started the preparation of the morning’s task. I had a job to do. One I’d never done before.
See, this wasn’t a typical bowhunt, and not really a bowhunt at all. No thousand yard belly stalk through 2 ravines an a canyon to traverse, no slipping from tree to tree through timber, no mountains to climb or swamps to wade. Hmmmm, wading. Yep, there was definitely a sort of wading going to take place, right into a herd of 143 rutting Buffalo. Not really hunting, but more like grocery shopping in a hostile environment.
I had been given the rare opportunity to shoot one of these magnificent heavyweights with my longbow by good friend and bowhunter Doug Campbell on the West Boulder Ranch. Not just any buffalo, but a rogue bull that needed to be culled due to a real bad disposition. Seems he wanted to conquer his own turf elsewhere, as the 5500 acre ranch just wasn’t big enough for him I guess. He’d made a habit as of late jumping the basic cattle fence, tearing it down or both, and heading out into the wild blue yonder with a dozen or so younger bulls. He’d gotten to big for his britches? Nah, just doing what comes natural for this type of animal, but this was a problem for the ranch and the neighbors that needed attention rather quickly.
Doug and I waded out into the intimidating herd not far from the truck, no sneaking involved, all 286 eyes knew we were there. This was a much different experience that the norm when I tote a longbow, being that I usually don’t want to be seen and being seen by these animals made you feel like an unwelcome intruder to local hangout. A lot of things going on due to the rut kicking in, and a host of distractions from the job at hand of getting an arrow, or two, into that one specific herd boss. Lots of roaring and grunting filled the air as bluff charges by younger bulls and taunting mamma cows that had to be given some serious attention. Trying to concentrate on the rogue bull that was constantly moving randomly through the bunch was chaotic to say the least. Lots of concern other than the shot that just had to be right.
Finally, the shot presented itself. The perfect shot one would want for an animal this size, i.e., a quartering away angle at a close distance of 15 yards. As the shot reached its mark, a crack rang out, and dismay immediately set in. As the bully Buff bounded off, the perfect opportunity seemed wasted by 23 inches of the 29 inch arrow hanging out plainly visible in the short hair below the cape. Not enough penetration by far, and I was filled with disbelief that my set up had failed. 1000 things went through my mind at warp speed as I told Doug ‘that aint enough’, and he agreed with an instant reply “you’re gonna have to get another arrow in him”.
Buffy wasn’t hurt bad at all, obviously revealed by autopsy later that this arrow, toting a big two blade, glanced on a rib and ran up the outside of the rib cage. Just a mere poke in the ribs for a beast this size. He stopped some 60 yards away, and assessed the situation, and after a brief recognizance, he felt he needed to get back to work. So, he turned and came back toward his harem. Keeping his distance this trip into the mob, he stopped yet again quartering away somewhere about 35 yards. I heard “that’s as good as your going to get” so, I started my draw this time with a lean and mean three blade headed arrow. As I reached anchor I heard, ‘whoa-whoa-whoa’ and eased the string forward to see a half dozen buffs coming through my so called shooting lane. Well, they passed the lane and halted, as others backing them up did the same, creating another window. The bull was still standing there, the stillest he’d been the whole time we had been out there. It was almost like he was challenging me to shoot. As he turned his head in my direction and stared, it was as if he was asking for the shot. It was crunch time, now or never, so I again drew back, and only remember watching the arrow travel the distance and bury to the fletch in the crease just above the elbow in the long hair of the cape. I smiled and thought to myself ‘PERFECT!’. I then heard confirmation “THAT done him in”.
It was now just a matter of time as the bull bucked and kicked his heels up, then ran about half way up a mound and paralleled its crest for another 80 yards.. He stood for a few moments with the bright yellow feathers still confirming that his clock was ticking down. When he started backing up, I new it was almost over. The big bull went to the ground on the side of the hill and made three thunderous rolls down the slope. As soon as he came to a final rest, Doug said..........”lets go get him”.
The Rogue Buffalo was taken with a
70# Morrison Cougar Hybrid Longbow
and a Wensel Woodsman broadhead
in the beautiful state of Montana.
Est. weight on the hoof - 2000 pounds.
Many thanks to Mr. Doug Campbell.
Buffy yielded 695#s of meat.
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Topic: A Montana Longbow Adventure - by Terry Green (Read 3436 times)
