As I sat in my stand, my brain struggling to come up with a better plan to put me within 30 yards of Dusty’s bull, I heard what sounded like a horse coughing. This added to my frustration as all I could think was there were some beef cattle that had worked their way into this area, which is not unusual as there are grazing leases all over this area. I leaned to my left and looked back behind me expecting to see 1000 pounds of slow elk. To my surprise, I instead saw about 500-600 pounds of real elk. Directly behind me coming out of the draw and headed right through the saddle past my tree was a cow. I squeezed my bow and said “here is your chance, aim small.” I increased the tension on the string and began to draw when something moved in the corner of my eye. I peeked and saw an extremely young calf trotting to catch up with its mother. Man, talk about highs and lows. I immediately realized I would not be able to shoot this cow with its calf in tow. Once again – dejected.
I hadn’t been feeling sorry for myself for more than 30 seconds when I heard a twig break behind me. I again turned to my left to look behind me and standing on the edge of the timber on a line to go straight past my tree where the cows just walked was a bull. He stood silently for what seemed like an hour, just surveying the area and contemplating what to do. I too was contemplating, contemplating that for once the wind was perfect and I needed to “aim small” when he walked by me. Suddenly, this big boy went from a dead stop to a trot. I assume he had lost sight of his cows and finally decided to run them down. He trotted directly up the path where I expected him to walk. I had to try and stop him. I mewed a pathetic cow call with my lips. He stopped abruptly and looked in my direction- a mere 18-20 yards away. Before he could find me in my elevated perch, my arrow was on its way. With a loud thud, my arrow buried 12 inches into the sage brush directly beneath his chest! I missed 2 inches low!!!!
To my utter amazement, the bull jumped straight up like a world-class saddle bronc, took two or three hops up the hill and stopped broad side again. In hindsight, I figure that, while he was jumping, part of my brain must have been saying - “I can’t believe you just missed that chip shot” while the other part was saying “reload.” I frankly don’t remember pulling the second arrow out of my skookum one arrow quiver that I purchased for just this occasion. Nonetheless, before I knew it I was again at full draw. This time, he was staring directly at me. I released the second arrow. He wheeled and ran. As he ran, all I could see were pink fletchings buried in his side. My mind immediately realized that the shot was too far back for a broadside shot. However, what I didn’t fully appreciate at that time was how much he was able to spin on me before the arrow hit him – probably because he was looking directly at me when I let it go. I later learned that my 29" Beman MFX classic 400 with my Grizzly El Grande entered about 4 inches behind the right rib, went through the liver and buried in the back of the offside lung.
He ran about 100 yards and stopped behind some trees. I cow called and he walked out to where I could see him but he had his opposite side to me so I couldn’t tell exactly where the shot was. He stood there with his head down for probably 10 minutes. Two deer walked over the ridge and caught his attention. As a result, he slowly walked into some trees and out of sight. It was getting pretty dark. I was pretty sure the shot was fatal but I truthfully thought it was further back and not at such a steep quartering angle. I struggled over what to do- give him time and come back in the morning or give him time and try and find him in the dark? I ultimately decided to leave him and hike back in the morning. Anyone who has left an animal overnight knows exactly how I felt that night. By the time I fell asleep I second guessed myself to the point that I was convinced he was gut shot and I would never find him.
As I walked through the dark the next morning I replayed the scenario in my head over and over trying to glean one more piece of helpful information from my memory. The wind had changed overnight and I was forced to hike much further than I had planned so I could get to a ridge down wind of where I last saw my bull. I reached the top of the ridge just after day light. As I slowly crested the ridge my binoculars picked up that hint of pink in the grass that I had prayed for the night before. I could see my bull’s antlers and the pink fletching of my arrow sticking up through the grass. To say I was elated is an absolute understatement. My “Ella Arrow” had done the job. My bull had not gone 30 yards from where I last saw him.
I spent the rest of the week glassing and spotting for my buddies. The luxury of harvesting an animal in the middle of a multi day hunt is that you have time to reflect and ponder what it is we do and why we do it. I recalled how three months earlier I was undertaking the yearly task of building my hunting arrows and thinking - maybe I will use pink this year in honor of my baby girl Ella who was born in May. My three year old son Kash thought it was an awesome idea and he coined the term “Ella Arrow.” Perhaps its luck or simply coincidence but Ella appears to have a knack for this hunting thing. So far in 2009 Ella’s arrows have helped Daddy harvest his antelope, his elk and a whitetail doe. The only thing I have missed was a nice Tom Turkey a few weeks before Ella was born. Needless to say, I missed him with my normal yellow fletched arrows.
One other thing that I realized while spending the next couple days glassing was that my bull was the same bull I had encountered at the pond several nights earlier. He still had the cow and calf but had apparently lost the second cow. Little did I know that I would get a second chance at him – or, as it turns out, a THIRD. When I was a kid my dad used to say that second chances are earned. I’d like to say that I earned this bull but truthfully there was a lot of luck involved. Either way, I’ll take it. He’s a wonderful bull! I cherish the opportunity and the memories created by this hunt. Hopefully, there are many more pink-arrow-bulls in my future. Perhaps some of them will succumb to a pink arrow launched from Ella’s own bow! That, my friends, will be a wonderful day.
As Bob M. pointed out earlier in this post, I shot this bull with a Morrison ILF with longbow limbs. It’s a 54" bow and 60# at 28". As many of you know, Bob makes a fantastic bow.
Here are a few more pics of my view while glassing for my buddies. Thanks for following this.
Topic: Second Chance Bull - Final Instalment (Read 2588 times)
