Last morning of our hunt, Tell, Cannon, and I took off and climbed up the same ridge he shot his bull on a week earlier. We soon realized there were a couple jokers over the ridge from us bugling their heads off and making quite the fuss. Meanwhile we started climbing to hopefully get ahead of them.
We saw 3 forked horn muleys feeding about 120 yds ahead of us and when we would stop they would turn and stare. Off to our right, up the gut, we heard a chorus of coyotes yipping occasionally.
All the sudden I saw a cow elk a little over 100 yds in front and quietly stopped the group. As we stood there watching, a small 4by popped out of the brush and headed our way. He quickly closed the distance and was standing dead in front of us at 40 yds with saliva dripping from his open mouth. He still hadn't made a sound but was coming to investigate all the commotion between us and the brush stompers. Tell had whispered that we were caught in the open, but I refused to move opting to put small tension on the string and just see what happened.
After staring us down for several long seconds,the bull elk lurched forward and began to pass us on the left and up hill about 25 yards. I saw my opening, came to full draw and dropped the string as the strength in my legs quickly melted into the dirt. My arrow struck the tree behind him and he jumped 10 yds before my brother also let one fly through the weeds now blocking his perfect shot. His shot, deflected by the weeds, also slipped harmlessly past as the little 4 point erupted into what can only be described as slightly controlled chaos! His path led uphill for a short distance until he caught wind of the buglers over the hill from us. He doubled back and then headed straight downhill in some of the loudest, bone jarring, crashes I've ever heard from an animal his size. I honestly don't know how they do that without breaking their necks!
After regaining my composure and mitigating the frustration I obviously felt (and finding my arrow,) we moved on and up the hill. Stops were frequent since the hills there have a way of leaving you breathless. We continued to hear the coyotes off to the right and then suddenly a bear growled LOUDLY. We all three stood stock still with grins on our faces.
Yep, we had just missed our last good chance at bringing meat home. Yep, we had knuckleheads just over the lip raising holy heck cause they hadn't the faintest clue how or when to bugle. Yep, we had another 5by come down the hill and turn away, still not responding to any vocal calls even though rut should be in full swing. But it's not everyday you can stand on the side of a mountain and listen to coyotes and bears fighting over who gets the last bite with wolf tracks at your feet and Ravens circling your head.
