If the elk weren't going to make it easy, we decided to change tactics to search, and hopefully score. We took one of our favorite trails which wound its way into the hilly semi-forested country several miles beyond the corn.
We made contact pretty quick in the form of several elk bugling within close proximity to each other. We spotted a small bull bugling on an open hillside about 700 yards out.
We cow called and bugled several times, and almost immediately got answers from several bulls, but it soon became apparent that the herd bull was pushing his harem further away. This forced us to pursue.
An hour later found us on a scrub covered hill within 300 yards of the herd which was somewhere on or over the hill opposite us. Visibility was obscured by clumps of pine and willow, but fairly large gaps gave good glimpses of the opposite slope. We paused to cautiously scan the slope but as soon as we did, the bugling from the herd seemed to be still moving away. The end of legal daylight hunting was approaching, which was unfortunate, because the remaining half hour we had was not enough to launch a stalk on the herd bull.
We decided to try calling. My partner gave a long location bugle which I followed up with several pleading cow calls. Almost immediately a spike bull appeared in a gully below us, and began working his way around the wet bottom. And then, right on his heels came a 3 or so year old bull with funky misshapen antlers. I liked the look of them.
That bull soon vanished in the willows which lined the bottom of the gully. He splashed right through the water and after about a minute the brush on our side of the gully began to shake and snap as he raked his antlers on the trees.
I gave a soft cow call and up he came.... straight to us.
"I'm taking him!" I whispered.
The bull just kept walking strait up the slope, winding in and out among the willows. At thirty yards he emerged completely from the scrub and paused. I had my Nikon Prostaff 5 dialed down to 2.5 magnification and the safety off, so all it took was a lift of the rifle, a moment to aim, and the 35 Whelen thundered. The bull collapsed as if all four feet had been cut out from under him.
The other bulls in the herd kept calling as if nothing had happened, but I didn't care, I was headed down the slope the short distance to my elk.
He was about the size I expected.... not very big by trophy standards, but the experience and the unique shape of his antlers made him a trophy to me.
My newly refurbished Whelen had its first kill... and I was delighted.
Taken at 30 yards with my 35 Whelen |