This happened several days ago (day two of her season; 10/16).
My daughter (opening post of this thread) has had a season of all seasons. Her first year of big game hunting and she drew and filled two of the best tags in Idaho (Mulie and Elk).
On opening morning she made the decision to pass on a decent 5 point. I wasn't trying to talk her into or out of that decision, just tried to give her realistic expectations. Ultimately she decided that she wanted to try for bigger. I think she was still riding the high of getting such a nice buck. She'd said that because of that deer, she was happy with how her season had gone and that if she ended up not getting an elk, she'd still be really satisfied with the experience.
Day two we had a very uneventful morning, but it was really pretty. At mid day we relocated to an area where a friends Son was hunting and were on several good bulls. The agreement was that he was up first to kill his first bull. Turns out he'd killed a big 7x6 that morning (so Thea was up). That evening we set up based off their intel of what the elk had been doing. We started hearing bugles around 4:45 and around 5:15 we spotted a group of 9 elk with two bulls about a mile up the canyon (one of them was huge). Unfortunately there was no way to get within reasonable shooting range of them as all of the hillsides were barren and the elk were scattered around and had every vantage covered. About an hour before the end of shooting light a long-framed bull appeared at 550 yards over the ridge in front of us (the one we'd been hearing all evening). We determined very quickly that he was a shooter but there was no way to get closer (I thought). He was angling towards a patch of aspens and I'd told my daughter that if he makes it behind those trees we would cut the distance. With increasing anxiety we watched him slowly amble above the trees (his vision wouldn't be obstructed by the trees). With each passing minute, I knew that we were running out of time, my daughter was starting to lose hope that we'd be able to get a shot.
With no other option but to get creative, I told her to gather her gear and stand up. I gave her instructions to stay directly behind me on the sage slope we were on, to focus on my boots, put her feet in the exact same spot as mine and freeze if I froze. There was zero wind and we couldn't afford to make noise if we were going to make a wide-open stalk. A few steps at a time, we managed to cut off 100 yards, making progress each time he put his head down to feed. Eventually we got low enough on our slope so that we were covered by the trees and then quickly cut off the balance of the distance before we ended up in the bottom. We set up her tripod and settled in for the wait, anticipating that eventually he'd feed out beyond those trees.
To further complicate things, immediately after sitting down, we got winded by a cow that was in a different patch of trees that we didn't know about. She began to bark at us and essentially stopped the bulls feeding progress across the hillside. With only about 15 minutes of legal light remaining I decided to force the hunt once again and began calling. He bugled at us a few times but remained locked in position. To amplify the situation I began to chuckle and bugle. This finally got him moving and he appeared on the side of the tree patch at 377 yards. I cow called twice and he stopped broadside.
I called out the distance to my daughter and she confirmed "so use the second line down?" (My rifle is zeroed at 200, so second stadia down is good at 400). I responded "yes, hold it just a little low, and if you are really steady and comfortable, you can squeeze the trigger". I heard the safety go off and settled into my binos to watch. After an exceptionally long time with no shot, I looked at her and asked "are you going to shoot him"?. She responded "yes, I was squeezing". Oops… back off Dad, you're screwing this up. I told her to continue, trying not to rush her but knowing that he wouldn't stay there forever. After about a 3 second pull, she broke the shot and I could hear (but not see) the impact. The bull spun immediately and disappeared behind the trees. My daughter jacked in another round and lowered the scope power in preparation for another shot, but he never came out from the small patch of trees. After a few minutes we gathered our packs and hustled up the really steep Slope to take advantage of the dwindling daylight, slowing our pace when I thought we were close enough to potentially spot him. After a few tense minutes we got to a point where the terrain would allow me to see about where we'd last seen him…. And that's when I spotted 4 legs in the air and antlers sticking above the sage.
She executed a perfectly placed double lung shot, he ran 40 yards.
Coolest 10 year old in the West!!
Our friends showed up to help with their second elk of the day and we were all really amped with the experience. My daughter would later recount to me "that was the funnest game of red-light/green-light I've ever played" in thinking about our stalk on the feeding bull. What an incredible season we've had, and memories made. I feel so fortunate.
