Continued From Post On 10/10/2020

As Kelly and I approached the bull we began to size up the work ahead of us.  Kelly notched his tag and we started the process of snapping a couple of pictures.  From around us, we started to hear cow sounds.  I looked at Kelly and grabbed my bow.  Kelly got behind me as I stepped forward over some deadfall and knelt down.

In the cool morning air with the sun in my face, out came a group of cow elk.  I quickly judged the distance at 40 yards, drew back, anchored, and let my arrow fly.  My arrow connected and the cow I took a broadside shot at quickly moved downhill out of view.  When I opened my left eye, I could see a branch of a nearby pine tree coming back to rest.  I couldn’t be certain at the time but my arrow may have been tipped by that branch.  I put my bow down where I was kneeling to mark the spot.  We decided to start capping Kelly’s bull to give my cow some time.  We joked about buying lottery tickets after having possibly both tagging out within minutes of each other.  We also found out that Randy had taken a bull about ten minutes before Kelly’s.  It seemed like a good morning indeed though packing meat out is always a chore.

After we had him capped out, I went to my bow and recalled where she stood when I shot.  I picked a line and walked straight toward some deadfall where she had stood.  As I stepped over a log I saw my arrow in the back end of another fallen pine.  I pulled it out and there was blood on the arrow except it was light pink and only covered some of the arrow shaft.  As I examined it, I noticed cow elk another 30 yards downhill looking back at me.  When I moved my head toward them and turned they ran downhill into the timber.  I walked to where they had been and there was blood on some grass but not the color you would like to see. 

When you hit an animal in an organ or artery the blood is rich in oxygen, deep red, and typically covers your entire arrow.  When you hit a vein or non-vital part of an animal the blood is a pale pink.  There is an area on an elk that is considered no man’s land.  If you hit it, you will find a blood trail for a little while until their hemoglobin starts to form clots and stops it just the same as us.  The elk will also heal and be just fine. In the timber, we thought we heard a crash that could have been the cow finally coming to rest.  We decided to give her more time and continue with quartering out Kelly’s bull.

Quartering an animal out in the wilderness is tedious work but it goes quicker with two people.  Trying to keep the meat free from dirt while allowing it to cool down is a sort of twisted game you get to play.  What you do as a hunter during this process can ultimately determine the quality of meat.  I pulled out my game bags and we carefully placed quarters in each.  I also had my Modular Game Bag and we started packing it for the first hike out.  As we got it set on Kelly’s shoulders, we started downhill toward the area we had last seen the cow elk.  We found a blood trail but it quickly started to fade with a drop every 30 yards or more.  We agreed to head back to the UTV and drop off the first load.  Our plan was to do a wide sweep back up toward his bull when we returned to see if we could find the cow.

When we got back to the UTV, Jeremiah joined us.  We hiked back up the mountain, found a game trail that went below the bull, and spread out.  As we worked our way up we had no luck in finding the cow.  Kelly and Jeremiah started getting the next pack out ready while I spent more time searching.  After nearly six hours of looking it had become evident that what I had feared happened did happen.  Heading back to down the mountain to the UTV, I was not only physically drained but second-guessing every step.  It is never easy giving up a search.

Taking a shot at an animal and not being able to recover it is one of the worst feelings a hunter experiences.  As you mature into hunting you grow deep respect and love for the game you seek.  You care about their habitat.  You are glad to pay the federal tax associated with the Pittman Robertson Act and the dollars it provides toward conservation.  You spend countless hours learning about them, observing them, and honing your skills. As we walked down toward the UTV, I made good on a promise to myself I made early that morning by leaning over and picking up an empty water bottle someone had carelessly left behind.  The contrast of picking up someone’s garbage and trying to do everything ethically was a sobering feeling.  As I ate my supper, Jeremiah’s mom had made fried chicken and potatoes, the evening past into dark.  The next morning Jeremiah would join us.

Once again the melody from my cell phone woke me up.  This morning I decided not to eat breakfast, just drink some water.  After yesterday, I needed to get myself in the right state of mind.  I usually hunt better when a little hungry versus being full.  We were going to another spot we knew elk typically move through.  We headed out in our UTV’s for the long drive to the trailhead.  As we topped a ridge, we parked and the wind immediately greeted us with a cold rush.  Due to the wind, we hiked around the edge of the ridgeline several thousand yards from where we eventually wanted to be.  We made our way around and finally came to the edge of some dark timber.   We moved quietly downhill over some deadfall about 50 yards and stopped.  The three of us spread out and laid back against the hill glad to be out of the wind at this point.  We sat there in the dark waiting for it to get light enough to see.  Below us, we heard the sounds of animals moving in the timber.

Soon it was light enough to see, a half-hour before sunrise.  Jeremiah and I moved downhill over deadfall and I took the lead off from his left.  I caught sight of something standing down below us and about the time I was going to signal him to hold up an elk busted off through the deadfall below.  Kelly began cow calling.  Five minutes later, a spike bull came within 30 yards of me quartering to.  I pulled back, focused my sights on his front shoulder, relaxed into my anchor, and let the arrow fly.  I heard it hit but the bull didn’t react.  I had two arrows left.  He moved further downhill and then stood broadside.  My second shot sailed over his back as I misjudge the distance.  His only reaction was to spin around and walk right back to the spot he was before, again broadside.  One arrow left…

I went through all my mental checks as I pulled back one last time.  Making sure I was anchored properly, hips bent, head relaxed, nose tip barely on the string, I let the arrow fly.  Again, the familiar sound was heard but again, he didn’t react.  As I watched this bull walk away off into the timber, I leaned back against the ground and looked up into the sky.  I looked over at Jeremiah and signaled I had no more arrows.   I could see him mouth the words, “Did you hit him?”   I mouthed back, “I think so.” I was at a loss and pushed myself into the ground even harder thinking I had to drive two hours one way to go pick up arrows and broadheads.  When I hear Jeremiah make a sound,  I look over at him as he is pointing to where the bull walked.  I quickly turn my head to see the bull drop and roll over a log.  My eyes cast toward the sky once again as I said softly, “Thank you, God, thank you.”  My family relies on elk for sustainment as we haven’t bought beef at a grocery store in five years. 

Jeremiah and Kelly spent the next hour trying to get on the herd bull.  When he eventually winded them, they came back up to my bull to help me quarter him and pack him.  During the process of quartering him, we confirmed I had put two arrows in him.  This is the first elk I have taken with a bow that I had to put two arrows into.  Elk are truly majestic and tough animals. 

With the remaining time we had over the next two days, we worked hard to get Jeremiah on elk but just as quickly as it came, luck changed.  He wasn’t able to connect.  As I drove home from the four days of hunting, I recalled something Kelly said our first weekend out at the start of the month after another hunter had blown our hunt on the same ridge he took his bull.  He said, “We are going to come back up here and get that bull, Liam.”  And we did just that.  It reinforced the idea that hard work and determination pays off.  With everything going on in our nation, I thought of the American Dream, my fears about failure, God’s blessing to my family, friendship, and how blessed we are to live in a free country where we can push ourselves as hard as we want to achieve a goal.

• L. Yarbrough, Bucks & Beers