First Flintlock Elk

(October 28, 2000) Almost didn't get up this morning, it was one of those mornings when bed just seemed too good to leave. So Steve and I made a deal. If the neighbor's light was on (he was to go hunting with us) then we would go hunting. If not, we would jump back in bed. Welllll, it was on so we grudgingly got into our camo. Now I KNOW most of you hunters have all had mornings like this, it isn't natural to be up at 4am! 6-Shot rode with our friend Elkman, while Steve and I  scaled a sheer rock face on the west side of a valley. Okay, maybe it wasn't a cliff, but it sure felt like one. The only thing that kept me going as I wheezed in the early morning cold was the thought that if I climbed uphill now, it would be all downhill on the return trip. It was chilly and my breath froze in front of me as I panted uphill. Steve didn't even break a sweat, don't know how he does that... As the sun rose we had a wonderful glimpse of the valley below. And elk were running all over the place. Steve was confident that we were near their bedding area and said that we would stay put and wait for them to come to us rather than to chase after them. We watched 6-Shot and Elkman cross a far meadow. It was exciting because judging by their speed we knew that they were on to something. Later we found out that they were on the trail of a herd of 20+ elk. Unfortunately they were unable to catch up with them. We had a small buck and two does pass within 30 yards of us. They looked right at us, but didn't seem alarmed and took their time moving through the trees. We waited for them to pass before moving on. Not long afterwards we heard the sound of loose rocks. I got ready but nothing appreared. Apparently the animals had scented us and took another route around us. Steve quickly picked up their trail, it was probably a cow and two calves. The trail was easy to follow since the ground was still damp from the dew. Ohhhh, let me tell you about the dew, those of you who have never seen frozen dew in the
sunlight are missing one of the most beautiful sights in
the world. I was delibrately kicking the clumps of grass and sage just to watch the frozen crystals drift up into the sunlight, sparkling like a million tiny diamonds. I know Steve probably thought I was dragging my feet and making too much noise, but it was sooooo pretty! It was about 10:30 when Steve froze and told me to set up. I didn't see a thing but I pulled back the flint, setting the trigger and raised the rifle. I looked to where Steve was pointing. 'Get ready!' he whispered. By now I knew him well enough to know that if he says something is coming, then its coming! And right on cue, in a clearing about 100 yards across the ravine, an elk steps out. 'Thats your shot, take it!' Steve said then blew on the cow call. The elk looked right at me. Everything everyone had ever told me about muzzleloading and the flintlock flashed through my head, and it all made sence. I don't remember breathing, just squeezing the trigger. I do recall that the barrel jumped to the right, and I saw the elk whirl around and disappear behind some trees. And I remember a huge feeling of disappointment. I had missed! But keeping my eyes on the spot, I began reloading. 'I missed!' I whispered. Steve thought otherwise, but I was sure. The barrel had moved way too much. I hadn't hesitated with the shot, didn't waste time thinking, I just aimed and fired, but it jumped and I just knew it had thrown off my aim. For now we would wait. It seemed like an eternity. But to rush in after a shot could drive a wounded animal off when it would have rested had it been left undisturbed. Finally Steve indicated that it was long enough and he cut across the ravine. I stayed behind to guide him to the exact spot. We figured that it was approximately 90 yards as the crow flies. It wasn't long before Steve got to the area. Unfortunately he didn't find any blood. He waved me over. By then I was dragging my boots, why did I take that shot, I hadn't practiced enough on my long shots. There was no sign of blood. I blew it I thought. Then, about 25 yards away Steve finally found blood. My first reaction was disbelief. Are you sure its fresh? I asked. He gave me one of those 'I can't believe you just asked me that' looks, after all he has been tracking animals for almost 3 decades now. We started following the trail and my heart grew heavier and heavier every step we took. With such a small amount of blood with such a long space in between I had probably only wounded the elk. Steve tried to give me confidence, after all, the blood though sparse, was a dark red. But even he was concerned about the small amount. Until we found a grass with a very small amount of bloody foam on it. A lung shot! And the drips though small, were falling on both sides of the trail, indicating that the animal was bleedingfrom both sides. Deep tracks suggested that the elk was stumbling. A million prayers went through my mind, please, oh please let it be a fatal shot, please oh please let it be quick, please oh please let me see it behind the next tree. My answers were finally answered about 100 yards later, when Steve turned with a big grin. I looked beyond him and saw the elk. I couldn't believe it. Then I was thanking God, and the Great Spirit, and Steve, and all you guys, all at once, and silently, but mostly, I thanked the spirit of the elk.  It was a young antlerless male, but weighed about as much as a full grown deer.