We did not attempt this in the same meadow, however. It was nearby, but this location was a new one to me. That said, when we beached the boat on the water's edge, there sure was an awful lot of moose sign around....We quickly got underway walking in on the trail, seeing more and more moose sign at every turn....We jumped a couple of spruce chickens that nearly gave me a heart attack, and made me regret not having a judo tipped arrow in my quiver...and still, I had to wonder if the voodoo would carry itself...
As we got very near the meadow we were headed for, we discovered a few rubs that were extremely fresh. After remarking about them (and thinking that maybe we WOULD see the voodoo re-enacted), I snapped this photo of John and Forde heading further up the trail, rubs and busted trees at right:
Onward we went, the excitement still rising...and then we got to the edge of the meadow and discovered....that the meadow - was currently, in fact, a marsh. Normally mostly dry, it now appeared to be sporting enough water to warrant hip waders at the least...
Undeterred, we sent Forde in. Armed with a stick meant to measure his boot height against the water he was wading into, John and I bravely offered our encouragement to go until...well, until he couldn't anymore...and then we heard it. That first sound that fires some synapse somewhere in your brain that says..."THAT'S a sound you need to pay attention to".... And we listened. And heard nothing. In the distance, an owl hooted. Then nothing. Then, as we whispered back and forth about our water problem, I heard it again. And so did John. (Not sure about Forde, only because he looked to be concentrating heavily on keeping his socks dry at the time...) I can't remember if John called or not at this point....but he might have...at any rate...I remember Forde saying "Should I go or not?..." and then all I saw was a flurry of motion from John and heard the fateful whisper, "It's a Bull!", "There he is!"...and then all Hell broke loose. John scrambled to get set up with his call and gun and shooting sticks, I set down the bow and pack and went for the video camera in a fumbling, uncoordinated mess....and Forde left the water like he had seen an alligator. Only surprisingly quietly. As I pulled out the camera and began rolling...John and Forde got set up and John began a set of calls. The bull was in clear view...but at the start, so were we. As my mind was saying "He's not too far off to shoot for these guys with guns"....The bull, who had almost instantly established himself as a shooter, began to change his direction, rake a few willows, and turn as if he were coming to introduce himself. Oh, happy time. Immediately I was thinking, "Here we go"...
The bull came toward us, and then after crossing the 'pond', grunting his disapproval at our presence, and getting out of our sight in the thick stuff way out in front, he seemingly disappeared. For roughly 25 minutes, all we were left with was the hooting of the owl in the distance. We crept closer to where we thought the bull went, inching our way along the meadow. Setting up again, John continued calling. As we were trying to figure out what we were going to do next, I heard a stick...no, rather, a TREE, like the thickness of my leg, break, just across the 'pond' out of sight. Seconds later, a pair of cows busted from the brush and came right towards us as John continued calling. My ears were in overdrive, straining. More branches being raked in the distance. That owl was STILL hooting. And now, sloshing in the water of eight long, ungainly moose legs. Coming right at us. The cows closed to 80 yards. Then 60. Soon it was 35-40. But still no bull. Only the thrashing of the trees, just out of sight, every time John raked the call across the limbs. And that owl. For nearly half an hour, we waited, and called, and whispered, and laughed, as the cows tried to make us out, and we tried to make out the bull. But it wasn't to be.
The bull on the far side of the meadow, whether it was the original one or not, never showed itself. The only thing we would shoot this night would be some video. Here is a very much un-perfect video clip of what happened. At times, there is a lot of moving around, and the auto focus really messes with all the brush in the way, but so it goes when you are on a hunt.
For those with slow internet connections (like us, out here), or without Flash player, etc., or otherwise don't want to take the time for a video to upload, here are some pics of the bull taken from the video:
Maybe next time....
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