At full draw, you can’t make too
many call sounds with your hands,
but you can with your mouth. As I
closed the distance on the wallow,
I knew I was going to be too close
to make any movement when
the moment of truth arrived. I
had already ranged a few chunks
of sagebrush, and popped in my
single reed diaphragm call. At 10
yards, I let out the softest mew I
could muster, hard to do at the
rate my heart was pounding. That
mew was met with an epic bugle
and lustful raking of that scrawny
shrub still between him and me.
One more mew and the hunt for
his new mate was on. 10 yards
quickly turned to 5.
He stood there looking at me,
probably thinking I was the ugliest
cow he’d ever seen. Every pin I had
covered his chest, but I couldn’t
get myself to take the shot at that
angle. A mature bull elk doesn’t
stand around for long and by the