king' s outdoor world - Index

king' s outdoor world - Hunting Illustrated April/May 2008 - Index

lying down underneath a tall pine
tree. He bugled again and I felt my
blood pumping through my veins.
This was what it was all about! My
dad looked through his binoculars
(the binoculars that cost more than
my soul - and my mom is not to know
about) and counted the points on the
beast in front of us. Seven on the
right and six on the left. I could see
my dad considering. Finally he
leaned in to me and whispered, “He’s
pretty big, but I think we could get
you a bigger one.” For a second I
almost said okay, but then the words
of my mother raced back to me. I had
promised her that I wouldn’t let my
dad talk me into anything crazy; I
would get the fi rst decent bull I saw. I
couldn’t see any of the points, but
I’ve always been partial to atypical
animals. The fact that this bull had
seven points on one side and six on
the other made me smile. I think they
have so much character! I looked at
my dad and over at Tyson standing
wide-eyed beside me. “Dad, is he
decent?” I asked him. My dad looked
through the binoculars again and told
me that he was. “Then I want him,
I’m going to shoot him.” My dad
looked like he might argue with me,
but then changed his mind. Maybe
my mom had made him promise the
same thing - I don’t know. He nodded
and grabbed the “shooting stick” that
my brother had been carrying for me
the whole time. See? Pampered. I
knew I could shoot the bull without
it, but I also knew that I always get a
serious case of “buck fever” or in this
case “bull fever” and that I would get
off exactly one shot before I probably
started shaking. Previous encounters
had taught me that. I still couldn’t
see the rack, but I had complete faith
in my dad and his years of experience.
If he agreed that it was a shooter then
I was going to get him. I took careful
aim with my great-grandpa’s WWI
30/40 Krag and I pulled the trigger.
Nothing. Just a click. Misfi re! Panic!
I looked at my dad with bug eyes and
he calmly unloaded the bullet and
another slid into place. I looked
through the scope. The elk hadn’t
budged. I tried to breath
easy but my get “one
shot free of the shakes”
was already over and I
could feel my arm start
trembling. I took a
quick breath and let it
out slowly while
sighting down the scope.
I had to make this quick!
Bam! The elk dropped.
Now I could see his rack
as he thrashed for just a
moment in death. I felt
a rush of emotions
envelope me. Joy,
sadness, thankfulness,
respect, excitement and
awe! My dad told me to get another
bullet ready and shoot again just to be
sure. I loaded another one in the chamber,
but I had already pushed my luck getting
off two shots without shaking like
someone in electroshock therapy. The
gun kept jittering and hopping right off
the shooting stick despite my efforts to
keep it on. My legs were jumping so
violently that I could have rivaled Elvis
in a dance off. Luckily, there was no
need for another shot. He was down to
stay. Tyson was jumping up and down
and we all rushed down to the elk. We
walked up beside him. It was hard to
keep up with Tyson and my dad with my
legs buckling and trembling! He was
beautiful and my heart swelled with
admiration and respect again for this
magnifi cent creature. He was glorious!
A prayer of thankfulness fi lled my whole
soul and I looked at the tall pine trees
pointing to heaven. My
heart was full. He was
bigger than even my
dad thought, and his
smile stretched across
his whole face! It was
hard to tell who was
more excited - Tyson,
my dad, or me. It was
probably a tie! There
were high-fi ves and
hugs with me still
shaking like a banshee.
About a thousand
pictures and poses later,
my dad started to quarter
Julie Kirk ended this great adventure with her dad and
brother and dropped this 7x6 bull elk with one shot
him up. It took six hours and four
trips (even with some fellow hunters
that my dad knew who happened to
be bear hunting in the same spot).
My dad did most of the work- or all
of it - one back leg weighed about as
much as I did and my dad didn’t want
me carrying something like that! I
breathed a secret sigh of relief, but I
tried to be as helpful as I could and
provided lively conversation to keep
him entertained. We (okay, my dad)
packed it all back to the truck and and
tied it on tight! Tyson and I
periodically checked the back to
make sure my bull hadn’t somehow
disappeared or been twinkled away.
We drove off the mountain into the
setting sun with the wind at our backs,
success warm in our hearts and the
road downhill all the way back home!
What an amazing hunt!
April/May 47