most memorable.."hits".......and hunts

[Arkansaslongbow]

o.k. we have had the most memorable misses, now let's hear about the hits....and the hunt that it happened in..........    ....thanks

[Michael Arnette]

My most memorable was in my sixeenth year. It was the first year that I limited myself to bow only, granted that was a compound bow. Me and my Dad, who was very new to hunting went out on opening morning of rifle season. I took my bow and he used my gun. I still remember the crunch of the frozen grass and the wonderful smell of November that I have come to love so much. We saw two shooting stars on the walk out and wispered back and forth about nothing. As it turned out, we both hravested our first bucks that morning. I shot a forkhorn and my dad made a great shot on a nice eight pt. A great day wonderful memory to say the least.

[Michael Arnette]

gosh I can't spell late at night!

[bohuntr]

This is an article I wrote for the publication put out by our South Dakota state bowhunter's organiztion (SDBI). It is about my hunt for the deer shown in my avatar.    
           
             LUCK OF THE DRAW


   From the title of this article you might surmise that this is a story about drawing a special tag. That is not the case.  This is a story about how I won a very special bow at an SDBI raffle and how my luck got even better afterwards.  First of all, I have never been very lucky in raffles of any kind.  If you talk to my friends, Garin and Jerri Ann Haak, you might get a different take, but that is another story entirely.  Like most of you, I have participated in the various raffles held for DU, RMEF, Pheasants Forever, and all the rest, with less than stellar results.  All of that changed in March of 2003.  

   The featured speaker at the SDBI convention that year was Dick Robertson.  Dick is an accomplished bowhunter, and an outstanding bowyer.  Dick makes beautiful and exceptionally performing longbows and recurves.  Dick generously donated a custom bow to be raffled off at the convention.  The winner of the raffle would be able to order any bow from Dick to be custom made to his or her own specifications.  Having just converted over to traditional bowhunting, I was more than a little interested in trying to win that raffle.  When my name was announced as the winner of the raffle, I was absolutely stunned!  Approximately three months later I received the finished product from Dick. It was love at first sight!  Not only was the bow exceptionally beautiful, but it fit my hand perfectly and shot like a dream.

   Fast forward to the 2003 bow season. The first arrow shot from my new bow at live game cleanly took a bedded mule deer buck through both lungs after a 150 yard crawl through tall prairie grass in Jackson County.  The second arrow fired from the bow filled my Yankton County anterless tag with a very nice doe for the freezer.  Obviously, at this point, I was already very happy with my new hunting companion, but it was the third arrow shot from that bow that accounted for something extra special.

   I will never forget the release of that arrow or the events of that day. It was November 8th, 2003.  Everything was perfect.  The weather was crisp and the rut was on.  When it came time to set up for my afternoon hunt, I was faced with a southeast wind which is very unusual for November in this area.  I really only had one stand that would work with that wind so I headed there even though it was not one of my favorite stand locations.  It had actually been over two years since I had last been up in that tree stand.  Before climbing up to the stand, I kicked in a mock scrape about twelve yards away from the tree and poured some doe in heat urine in it.  

Shortly after climbing into the stand, a lone doe came walking up the trail that ran parallel to my stand site. I was excited to see the doe, because at this time of the year there is nothing better to draw in a big buck than a live decoy.  Despite the fact that I had practiced good scent control and was wearing rubber boots, the doe still was obviously smelling something she did not like. She looked like a blood hound tracking my scent along the trail until she was close to the base of my tree.  The doe was stomping her front foot and bobbing her head, but when she made it to the mock scrape, that familiar scent seemed to settle her down. Up to that point, my attention had been focused on the doe and when she finally settled down, I took the opportunity to look up.  

At that very moment, I saw a HUGE buck walking towards my stand about 100 yards away.  I could tell immediately that he was very wide and heavy and that there would be no question that I would shoot if he made it into my effective shooting range.  When the buck finally spotted the doe, he immediately came running directly towards my stand.  It was an incredible sight to see that buck coming in with his head up and his muscles rippling. The doe apparently was not in heat and wanted no part of the buck.  Luckily enough, instead of pursuing the doe, the buck came to an abrupt stop when he hit the mock scrape. To say that I was excited at this point would be an incredible understatement.  The buck put his nose down into the mock scrape slightly quartering away from my tree stand.  It was the perfect situation and he was the buck I had dreamed about all of my life.  

I started to draw back the bow when something terrible and unexpected happened. Due to an overhanging branch, I was not able to draw my bow back more than a third of the way.  I had shot deer out of this tree previously, but that had been with a much shorter compound bow.  I couldn’t believe that all of my good luck seemed to be turning bad.  My mind was racing thinking about how the buck of a lifetime was about ready to slip out of my grasp from 12 yards away. I had on my safety harness and I decided that if I leaned out of my tree stand and away from the branch, maybe I could get my bow back to full draw.  I slowly eased myself out away from the tree stand letting the harness hold my full weight and started to draw the bow back. When I reached about three quarters draw, the top limb of my bow hit the branch.  The buck immediately swung his head upward and for a brief moment our eyes locked.  From the widening of his eyes and the tensing of his body I could tell that he was going to run.  It was at this point that having a traditional bow that could be shot quickly really paid off.  As the buck’s eyes got bigger and he crouched to run, I picked a spot and released that third arrow.  The buck spun at the shot changing the angle of the arrow’s entry, causing me immediate concern about the effectiveness of the shot.

After waiting about 45 minutes I got out of the tree and tried to follow up on the blood trail.  The blood trail was fairly sparse and considering the fact that the buck had turned at the shot, I decided it would be smart to back out and look for the buck in the morning.  Those of you that have been there definitely know I did not get any rest that night. Between worrying about the lethality of the shot and  the coyotes, I was a wreck.

The next morning, my hunting buddy, Leon, and I were out at first light. The blood trail had tapered out so Leon and I split up to look for sign in different directions. When Leon excitedly yelled out that he had found the buck, I literally sprinted in the direction of his voice.  When I got there and saw the buck lying there, I immediately felt a huge sense of relief and excitement all at the same time.  It turned out that the arrow had passed through the rear of one lung and the liver and the buck had only traveled about 150 yards.  I have never officially had the buck scored, but he is a very heavy 5 x 5 with a 23 ½ inch inside spread and some extra character points.

As I am writing this article, I am in my office looking up at the shoulder mount of that exceptional buck and reliving that incredible day.  All I can say is that I am eternally grateful to SDBI, Dick Robertson and lady luck for making a lifelong dream a reality. Oh yeah, and thanks to Garin and Jerri Ann for buying all those losing raffle tickets so that I could be sure to get the right one!
 

[bohuntr]

This is another article I wrote for SDBI about my 2006 archery elk hunt here in SD.

        THE CURSE  

        After 10 years of accumulating preference points here in South Dakota my buddy Tom Kostel and I finally managed to draw archery elk tags for the fall of 2006.  We were very excited to draw the tags because we knew it would allow us to do our own scouting and it would allow us to hunt for a lot more days than normally is possible on our out of state hunts.  Before going any further I feel I need to enlighten you about Tom and my prior elk hunting experiences. Tom and I and another buddy ,Leon Somsen, have bowhunted elk for at least eight years in Colorado and one year in Montana.  Three of those hunts were guided hunts yet the sum total of our elk harvests was one cow that I shot back in 2001 on an unguided hunt. Other than that cow the opportunities for shots were few and far between.  The list of things that went wrong were epic and it would take more than one small article to cover them all. The usual  obstacles  were present, unusually hot weather, too much rain, range cows/and or sheep ran the elk out , too many other hunters, etc.  I am not sure how many times we were told by local hunters or guides “you should have been here last week” but it really wasn’t funny anymore. It frankly was getting difficult to convince our wives that we had actually even gone hunting based upon what we had been bringing home. Collectively we sometimes jokingly and sometimes not so jokingly referred to this phenomenon of elklessness as “the curse”.
     When we found out that we drew the tags Tom and I each had a little different goal in mind. While Tom obviously wanted to shoot a nice bull he really wanted to get his first elk with a bow no matter what the size of the elk. I felt like this might be one of my best chances to shoot a good bull and I resolved not to shoot a small elk even if it meant going back elkless. We ended up having an absolutely awesome hunt! We were into elk almost every day. Just the opportunity to see and interact with all of those elk really helped us to become better elk hunters. I think we learned as much in that one season as we did in all our other elk hunts combined. I had the opportunity to pass on multiple cows and smaller bulls that were well within the range of my recurve bow. We also got to meet some great local guys who were elk hunting nuts and had them hunt with us part of the time when they did not have to work. They were not only a lot of fun but were very helpful in showing us around the hunting unit.  
     Because this was such a special tag both Tom and I had seen too it that we were able to hunt a large portion of the month long season.  On day 14 or 15 of our hunt we got onto a big herd of elk that had at least two big six point bulls along with some smaller bulls and lots of cows. We were probably 150 yards or so away when we could go no further because of the open terrain. I crawled up to the last bit of cover and Tom dropped back and started cow calling. The two biggest bulls were pushing the cows away from us but a pretty nice 5 point and two spikes started heading directly for Tom’s cow calls. The 5 point eventually broke off and headed out with the rest of the herd but the spikes were just too curious about the noisy cow that they couldn’t see. The spikes ended up less than 2 yards from me. The problem was that I did not intend to shoot but I knew Tom was interested and I didn’t want to spook them. I was standing behind one little tree and when they cleared the tree there eyes just about bugged out of there heads. They tore off kicking up dirt right on me but stopped to look back after only going about 30 yards. I did not move a muscle. Tom continued to call and I could hear the two of them continue to walk in his direction. Then I heard them really tear out of there. Damn it!!! I figured they had scented Tom and departed the country. When I got back to Tom I found out that he had shot and hit one of the spikes! After a short blood trail we found a very delicious looking spike very dead. The even better news was it was in a spot where we could haul it a short distance with a four wheeler and load it up in my trailer.  After getting the elk officially checked in and delivered to a locker  Tom decided he better get back home to his family and his job.  
      While I was disappointed to see Tom leave I also felt it would be fun to hunt alone for awhile.  So lets fast forward to the day in question  Monday, September 25th. I arrived at my hunting spot about an hour before sunrise. I had barely gotten out of the truck and gotten organized when I heard one of the deepest growling bugles I have ever heard. I slowly worked my way towards the bugle waiting for shooting light before trying any calling. The temperature was 26 degrees and there was a layer of crunchy snow on the ground. When it finally got light enough to shoot I let out a series of cow calls. The bull screamed back and I could hear him literally running towards my position in the crunchy snow.  I was totally psyched! He was in bow range almost immediately and it was then that I discovered that instead of elkzilla he was a raghorn 5 point. In the places we have hunted in Colorado this little guy would have been a herd bull and I would have definitely shot him but this was not Colorado. I let the 5 point walk and started heading up the ridge toward another bugle that sounded just as big. I tried cow calling again in a little while and the same 5 point came running back into bow range again. After finally getting away from the 5 point I moved in as close as I dared on the other bull. It was obvious the other bull was working himself up into a frenzy. When I felt I couldn't get any closer I looked for a place to set up and call. I could see a trail that looked like an obvious way for the bull to come if he responded to my calling. I got  upwind of the trail and let out a series of cow calls and then quickly snuck downwind to a spot where I would have a 15 yd shot if the bull came down the trail like I hoped. The bull responded immediately with a booming growl of a bugle. I could tell from the breaking of branches and the crunching of snow that he was charging straight in. It was lucky that I moved downwind after calling or he would have come straight in on me giving me no shot at all. Unfortunately he was not coming down the trail that would give me an unobstructed 15 yd shot. Instead the bull was coming in at a stiff trot 25 yds away in a spot with thick vegetation. As he was coming in the bull was laying back his rack and shaking it back and forth. I suppose he was posturing to let the cows know what a good looking bull he was and to let any rivals know that he was one bad dude!!! All I can say is it was an amazing sight and something I will remember the rest of my life. I had been kneeling but I knew I was going to have to stand in order to get a clear shot. I also knew I was going to have to try to stop him in the one small opening which he was fast approaching. When the bull went behind a tree I stood up and brought my Robertson recurve to half draw. Just as he was entering the small opening I came to full draw and simultaneously made a cow call with my voice. The bull put on the brakes and turned to look for the cow. At the release of the arrow the bull took a half step forward but the arrow still buried to the fletch in the vitals. After the shot the bull took off running ... it was easy to follow his progress by the crunching snow and breaking branches. Within 7 or 8 seconds I heard a loud crash and then nothing. Up until that point I had been remarkably calm and focused. When I realized that I had just killed a nice 6x6 bull with my recurve I was overcome with emotion and started to shake. What should have been any easy track job did not turn out to be even though the bull only ended up 100 yds from where I shot him ... but that is another story all together. The bottom line is I found him and I got the meat and the cape out with some much appreciated assistance from the owner of the campground where we were staying.  He is not the biggest bull I saw in my 20 days of hunting but you better believe he was more than big enough for me. I had the bull shoulder mounted and he hangs in my office as I am writing this story. Hardly a day goes by that I do not look up at him and get transported back to that magical day in September when the curse was broken!

 

[bretto]

My first trad kill and my biggest Buck with archery gear.

I had set a new stand on a small bench in between a deep creek and a cut corn field. There where several fresh scrapes and rubs present. Two days later the wind was right for a morning hunt.

I was shooting a 60# Ramhunter longbow 67" NTN. At first light I heard grunting and brush moving to the west. Seemed like forever until I finally made out a tine moving My direction. Of course He decided to take the lower trail which paralleled the creek 50 yards below My stand.

I grunted once and the buck was moving and didn't hear Me. So I grunted again as loud as the Tru-Talker would let Me and He turned on a dime and made His way to about 7 yards of My stand.

The buck was to the right of Me so I had to spin on My stand ( I'm right handed ) I came to as full of draw as I could at that angle and sent a full length cedar shaft and a Magus II thru both lungs.

The buck made two large jumps and covered about 20 yards stopping in a scrape. I could hear him coughing and gurgling and knew He wasn't going far. He finally walked to the edge of the corn field and died 20 yards later.

I was able to drive right to him in My truck. I pulled into the driveway as the Kids were getting on the School bus at 7:45.

Not the biggest Buck in the woods but My favorite to date. 18 1/2" wide with 8 1/2 G2'S. Sorry I can't find a picture at this time.

My Son-in-law has the Ramhunter now I hope He puts His wheels down and takes His first Trad deer with it.

bretto

[Bonebuster]

My most memorable hit was actually a follow up shot.

It was a late season hunt on private land. Cold, and a big wind was predicted. I was after late season burger, I had permission for a doe only.

With an hour of light left, and the wind building, I see a trio of does on a well used trail. I stand and get ready. I stop them with my bleat, and at release, I see my arrow fish tail badly and dissappear through the hollow in the paunch. Worst possible spot. (still unsure of what happened)

The deer scatter, and the one I hit hooks around and ends up walking in front of me at about thirty yards. It stops with only the rear half visible. I see what is the exit wound...no blood.

By now I had already gotten a second arrow on the string. Without thinking, I draw while burning a hole on what I think is the ball of her right hip...she is almost broadside. My arrow arched it`s way and hit exactly where I was looking, and despite the wind, I heard it clearly. The deer went down instantly, and was out of sight...thrashing loudly.

I was in a climber, and it took a bit to get down, and by the time I got to her, it was over.

The big Magnus two edge, had broken her down and cut so much, it was over in seconds. Somehow, my arrow managed to get all the way through and was laying on top of the crusted snow, covered tip to nock in frozen blood.

I can still see that arrow spinning it`s way toward that deer. When I was climbing down that tree, I was shaking so bad I could hardly function. (I was not at all, cold)

I don`t shoot thirty plus yards at deer, but I do practice long shots...just in case.

Great stories guys.

[LPM]

My most memorable hit/hunt........

I normaly get too wordy and spell stuff wrong so  I'm going to try to keep this short and sweet.

I wrote the story for Traditional Bowhunter Mag.  Because it was the most incredable Elkhunt any out of state do it yourself Elk Bowhunter could ask for.

Don Thomas initialy replied that He thought they could "Use the Piece".  However after some time had elapsed he had returned it.

No offense taken..........There are tens of thousands of guy's like me that think their stories are magazine material.

Anyhow I'll set the Stage.  

This was a bittersweet reunion hunt between friends that hadn't hunted together for six years.  

My father and one of my Elkhunting buddies had died in that time span of six years.  Two great men that loved the outdoors and Elk hunting.

On this hunt I took my first homemade recurve bow.  Not my best... Just the first.  I needed a reunion with it as well.

I'll shorten the story.  I hunted hard for over a week.  I usually hunt alone leaving before light and returning after dark.  I had encounter time after time with rut crazed Bulls but something had always gone wrong.  I took one of my buddies that hadn't got into elk one night and I almost got a bull to come to him.  These encounters were each well worth the price of admission.

One of my friends got a 5x6 bull with his longbow and we had a great celebration.  With two days left to hunt I was feeling great about our time in the mountains.  I had no Idea what was in store for me on the last day.

The morning was cool and clear a heavy frost lay on the medow grass.  A billiom stars gave way to a promise of sunrise to the east.

 I stood on tired feet out in the open medow near our camp.  I could hear someone up making coffee.  I was a little later getting up on this last day.  I new we would be in for a long pack out and made sure I got pleanty of sleep.

I planned an easy hunt north of camp by some beaver ponds that attracted Bulls earlier during our hunts.

Then I heard it.  Like a ghost at first then more clearly from high on flattop mountain.  A bull had announced his intentions for the day.

It occured to me that I was standing in the same area that my dad and I had stood when we had heard our first Elk bugle years ago.  We had awakened during the night to it and had stood together in the moonlight listening and making plans to find him the following morning.

I yelled back to camp.  "I guess I'm going up flat top".

This was no easy climb.  I had avoided it since I had found Elk elsewhere.  I had to cross a creek in dim light then head up the steep slope woven with tortured blowdowns. and boulder fields.

It had snowed the day Chris got his bull and today the sun came up and snow was falling in great chunks from tall lodgepole pines.  I was being pelted by these snow balls and scolded by pine squirrels.  To top it off another bull had bugled from the mountains north and the bull on my side was silent.

As time went on I grew less concerned with the bull and was letting my mind drift back to my last bowhunt with my dad.

It was on this mountain, this slope and the last day of hunting.  How ironic I thought.

During that hunt,I had found a fantastic view on a high alpine medow on this mountain.  I told dad about it and he wanted to go see for himself on our last day of hunting.  He was sxty years old and had never been hunting in the mountains.  His stamina was amazing.  At one point I thought that the climb was getting to him and I said.  "Dad, it gets awfull steep from here on up", thinking he might want to re-think the climb.  His reply to me....."You can Make it".  That was my dad.  That evening we sat high on a mountain with the best view and the best company a father and son could ever have.

I was thinking of his famous words when I was on all fours trying to get the rest of the way up flat top.

Finally I could feel the breeze from the winds near the top and the terrain was flattening with pot holes and less blowdowns.

A perfect three note bugle snapped me back into reality and my senses tingled with apprehention.  I knew that a muzzle loader group had camped somewhere on the other side of this mountain and I weighed the risks of bugleing back.

There it was again perfect three note bugle.  I crouched and bugled back.  Instant reply.  Again the perfect three note bugle....Too perfect?

I decided not to bugle again.  I was in no mood to dance with a musket ball.  I estimated the bugle location at least two hundred yards.  The wind was right.

I slowly continued on.  I had too cross a small clearing where the sunlight reached the ground.  As I moved through it a strange thing happened.

The back of my neck felt like it was touched when the sun hit me.  I get chills telling the story.  I know it's "dramma", but guys it felt like I was touched.  It caused me to stop by a  pine tree that was also soaking up the sun at the end of the clearing.  The warmth just felt so good that I wanted to savor it a few seconds before entering the shadows again.

I heard the bugle again.   This time much closer.  I decided not to bugle and didn't even have an arrow on the string when I gave one soft cow meeoooow.

All hell broke loose!  A bull screamd back and charged.  The forest became a violent torrent of snaping blowdown limbs and thundering hooves.  He was comming!  

I was still by that pine tree, sun at my back as I nervously got an arrow on the string. He was comming hard and close now.  I eased fwd into the shadow to try to spot him...Here he is!  He's right here!  Comming right at me at 15 yads.  Head back nostrils wide and eyes rolled back.....My God those eyes.  All the while uttering those short jarring bugle sounds.

I ws at full draw the broadhead floating on his throat as he closed on me.  he slowed at 5 yds when he hit the dapple sunlight from behind me.  My God he's gonna run me down!  He can't see me! "Come on.....turn....Turn!!  

I held my fire........He was a frieght train when he turned slightly to pass me on the other side of my pine.  He rolled his massive head so his antlers could clear my tree.  

I took one step forward and shot past the tree at a range of four feet off my arrow point.  One sound was heard as hair hide and bone split with my arrow in full paradox.  

He staggered from the impact of 700grains of magnus tipped arrow.  I saw that arrow burried to the yellow crest as he gathered his legs and bolted.  I bugled hard...It had to sound crazy but he slammed to a halt at about 50yds.  He paused for a few seconds then exploded headlong over and down a steep bench and out of sight.

I began to shake and sat down by "My tree" I wasn't sure if the whole thing realy happened.

I reached out and picked up a hand full of hair laying on the ground next to some big tracks.

My God..........My God!!  I sat there a long time
before I could trust my legs.

I found him laying with his head gently layed out on his chin.  He had tried to step over a low blowdown when his legs failed him.  

As I approached I was confused because he looked more like a bedded Elk than a dead one.  As dignified in death as he was in life.

I threw one small stick at him to be sure.  He was done...........A flood of emotions came over me as I turned and gave voice to the mountain.

I sat in the snow yards away from him ad took off my pack.  I ate my luch and took in the sights sounds and smells of this day......

When I finished I walked over to him and felt his hair and run my hands over those amazing antlers.  marveled at the size of him. My first Bull a 5x6.

I reflected on the strange events of the day.  Was it possible that my dad who was my best hunting buddy had joined me again for a reunion hunt, here........on flat top mountain? the last place we ever hunted together?

Tears were in my eyes as I started down the slope......"come on dad let's go find the guys".

[frassettor]

TTT^^Great thread

[centaur]

I used to hunt elk every year near Dubois, Wy., until I got tired of getting snowed in in September (once for over a week, another time for three days). Our camp was in a basin at 8500 feet, with the surrounding mountains in the 11000' range, and when it snowed, you were there until the road dried out.  Anyhow, the area that I hunted at the time had a lot of black bears, and a buddy of mine killed one that qualified for B and C about a half mile from our camp. When hunting elk, we would always see lots of bear sign, but as is normal with black bears, they are pretty elusive, and we would see one occasionally, but knew that many more were there.  
In early September, we were trying to convince the elk that it was time to rut, and on an afternoon hunt, I was sneaking through some steep and very elky country, bugling occasionally but not getting any responses. I came to a patchwork of small clearings where I had seen elk in the past, and started to slowly work the area. I had not gone too far into this good patch of elk country, and bugled. Within seconds of my bugle, a big black patch of muscle stepped out of the thick trees in front of me. The bear was walking straight towards me, and was making noises like he was talking to himself. I later paced where I had first seen the bear at 27 yards. Things happened fast; luckily I had an arrow on the string, because Mr. bear walked right for me at a very determined pace. I brought the bow up, and when I did, he turned slightly to his right, giving me a look at his shoulder. Since he was REALLY close and still grumbling, I thought this might be a good time to get some wood in the air. I don't remember anything about the shot other than seeing the arrow bury to the fletch in his shoulder, and him letting out a growl/roar that seemed very loud at the time. He half ran/half walked 15 yards and fell over. I was shaking from the excitement, but managed to  put another arrow in him for good measure, although he had already gone to bear heaven. He was a big bear, 7 feet from nose to tail, and he qualified for P&Y.     Upon recreating the shot, he was 7 yards from me when I hit him. I didn't get an elk that year, but the bear certainly made up for it.

[ishiwannabe]

So far, my most memorable hit is a rabbit, at top speed, during last years JLMBH. It wasnt captured on film, but a group of people got to see it unfold, and you can actually hear the cheering after the shot in the DVD-right before the dont shoot me incident.
Afterwards, numerous people came up to me saying it was an awesome shot to watch...numerous handshakes and slaps on the back. Luckiest shot I ever made.

[longbowben]

Mine will be in ohio game and fish in july and north american whitetail in sep ,Hope everyone enjoys.

[Bonebuster]

I remember Ben...can`t wait.

Awesome stories...from escaping rabbits, to arrogant bears, and everything in between.

[longbowman]

I think my most memorable "hit" was when I lived in Montana.  Friends from PA came out to hunt with me and the very first morning two of us were heading into timber when we heard a bugle.  My friend had made some elk calls and he blew his in answer.  When nothing responded we began moving down onto a shlef with me in the lead.  I looked and there were two cows coming towards us about 40 yds. below.  We knelt down and he said if I wanted a cow to go ahead.  I got ready when I spied a big 6X6 bringing up the rear.
     The bull stopped broadside and bugled and I let a #13 fiberglass arrow go and it looked like I had shot under it.  The bull jumped straight up and went a few yards and then slowly walked away.
     My friend said I hit it but I went down to check and sure enough there was blood on my arrow.  I floowed the trail and there was light blood drops that were easy to see and so he went high and I stayed on the trail to follow it.
     After 300 yds. or so I came to an opening and I sat down on a log and I could see the blood for a few yards heading stright through the middle of the opening.  About a minute later a huge elk rack appeared 20 yds. to my left and then a bull stood up.  He walked 15 yds. broadside to me and began licking himslef with his head on the other side of his body.
     I began to draw on him but with a bull already hit I just couldn't do it so I let him walk straight away from me.  You guessed it, after he left I started following the blood trail and it made a sharp left to a bed and then came right back in fromt of me!  All I had done was graze the tip of the brisket and that bull had given me a perfect opportunity to finish him off but...ethics are what you do when nobody can see you.