When I sighted him, he was about 600 yards deep in the reserve. Had Marc go to the right about 3-4 hundred yards with the bugle and Steve went to the left with the cow call.
I moved up to within 150 yards to the fence and for the next 40 minutes the guys worked him out. We had heard him and other bulls over the prior two weeks, and with the quality bull hunt ending on Monday, we were down to our last full day of hunting on Sunday.
I was nothing less than amazing. It wasn't the typical Colockum harvest, where the animals are driven and beaten down by the time the modern season is over. He was in his element, noble, prideful and being everything we wish for these majestic animals.
After forty minutes he decided t leave the reserve and with him more than 200 yards free of that environment, he decided to ignore the cow calling and move towards the bugling. I let him pass me until he was 45 degrees to my left and at 135 yards, he presented a perfect broad-side view and with that, my 295 grain powerblet made a perfect through heart entry.
What a blessing he dropped immediately and died and unsuspecting and immediate death.
He deserved that honor.
