I used to hunt from a tent, just two guys, in a little 6'x6'x5' nylon tent.
We set up cots inside to keep off the ground. It wasn't too bad, except damn cold getting up in the morning. The guy I hunt with is known on the net as Deerslayer 1951, I'll call him Mike for this story, to save my fingers.
This particular morning, we went over to the cook tent, (bunch of tarps tied to trees) and I said to Mike "Tell me again why we are doing this" My knees were shaking, my breath was fogging, the table had frost on it, and my hands were wrapped tightly around a mug of steaming coffee. Mike just gave me the evil eye. I had the flue, but was hunting anyway, Mike didn't care, and never caught it.
We headed out, soon as you could see clearly, and I went to the far watch, about a 45 minute walk.
The ravens roosted on the far side of the swamp I was watching, and aparently, they decided I should leave. As I watched the black swarm leave the roost, suddenly, I was dive bombed by a kamikaze raven. Not quite, he pulled out right in front of me with a tremendous fluttering roar. This happened over and over maybe six times. Finally they left squawking, and clucking. (and they wonder why we like hunting)
The rest of the day was pretty much uneventfull until close to lunch time. I decided I'd go back along the logging road for lunch.
I was comming up to a "T" in the road, when I spied the top of Mike's head over a little hill as he crossed my road on the other road.
I was still hunting along the old road, so I came on up the hill slowly. I was stunned to see a Cow moose following Mike down the road, fifty feet behind him! We had no ******* cow tag. But, then, another moose appeared behind the cow. A calf?? This I could shoot! The cow spotted me, and turned right, into the bush. I ran like a mad b*stard down the road, threw a quick hand signal at Mike, who had turned around when he heard me running, (he looked at me like I was nuts) and I ran of into the bush, trying to get a positive ID on the calf, and a shot. I did get the ID, but no shot, they were too fast. I ran back to the road. The moose could now be heard breaking brush like a train. I ran down the road towards the camp maybe 300 yards as fast as I could. The moose had turned! I was running to try to intercept! Then I saw her twenty feet away. The 338WM spoke but once. I had to be carefull not to hit my van. The calf was on the ground so fast, I lost her in the recoil. Mama stood beside the calf. Oh Oh.
Mike came running at the shot. We waited. We tried aproaching together. She came towards us. We shouted, we threw sticks, waved arms, and finally fired shots over her head. She would not be moved.
Then I decided I'd go get a few camera shots of her. I took a few steps away from Mike. The moose took a few steps towards Mike. I said "Mike I think you better come with me". We went down for the camera. When I openned my suitcase, I saw a bell that a machinist friend had made for me as a joke to get the deer camp guys out of bed. Much like the bell I used to ring at recess, durring grade school.
What happened next, is the subject of all this fuss. Imagine if you will, a hunter dressed head to toe in brilliant flourescent orange running through the bush, ringing a damn bell and chasing a very terrified moose.
We were not done with Mrs Moose either. She didn't come back until we had the calf hanging. (Lotsa work dragging it the whole fifty feet to the hanging tree). About 2 am, we both awoke to the shadow of a moose on the tent wall. Holy F*ck Mike says I don't need no fourty pound hoof on my head now what?
We yelled, and banged some stuff, no luck.
Then I tripped the alarm clock. We were rewarded by the crashing of brush, this time for good.
Scary thing, next morning, we found that she had been feeding for some time around the camp, and Mike says the tent has drewl marks on it. (His side)
Calf moose is fine meat, and theirs lots of it too!
