As the bull hung up about 70 yards from Dave, I knew I had to do something to get the big bull to come in closer. But as I said before, I am not a good bugler. I am so bad at it that I just didn't even bother to carry it with me as I hunted with Dave. At this time, I really, really wished I would have had my bugle call with me. It was just the thing that I thought would encourage the bull to come closer to me and within range of Dave.
With no bugle call, I decided to try something else. I grabbed a heavy stick and began to rake one of the evergreen trees nearby me. I was very careful to not show myself to the bull, but also very certain to show him the movement and sound of me raking the tree. Without hesitation the big bull turned my way and began to make a slow but deliberate move towards me. It was Raspy! The old bull moved to within 22 yards from Dave now and stopped. I was straining to hear the shot from his bow but didn't hear a thing. All of a sudden the bull turned away from us and moved just about a 100 yards away from Dave. I continued to make cow calls and the old bull hung around but cautiously stayed well out of range. We talked seductively to one another for another ten minutes before "Ol Raspy" decided enough was enough and headed well away from us.
After Raspy departed, I went over to Dave to ask him where his shot went. Dave then told me that he never even took a shot. Ol' Raspy was smart enough to always make sure his vitals were covered every time he stopped. Dave had injured a few other bulls when shooting at a moving target previously and he definately didn't want to repeat his past errors. Despite not shooting, we both were so excited, so happy and so fulfilled at getting such a close encounter with the infamous Raspy it is just difficult to put into words. Let's just say we were both smiling inside like the kid that won the Willy Wonka chocolate bar contest.