My brother Kent and I were in Idaho on our horses at the end of the day (after a long walk down a ridge that took all morning/afternoon) riding to check on some evening clear cuts. When we got to the end of one cut, the lead horse in our group had his ears go straight forward. We stopped and sure enough a lead cow walked/trotted across the road about 80 yards in front of us, then another, then another and another (about 15-18 cows/calves), a raghorn and then that was it. By that time, were off our horses and I was sitting down on the road with my rifle rested on my knees, getting a bead on each animal, waiting for one more bull. I knew if there was one, he’d be trailing the herd. Sure enough, he stepped out last, onto the road before moving down to the bottom of the cut towards our right. I focused down on him, fired it off and put one behind the shoulder. Kent had a shot on him as well before mine, but had put his safety back on after he saw the raghorn bull. You could hear the hit, but you’re never quite sure. Kent and I sprinted down to where we could look over the bank and by that time, sure enough, he was rolling down the hill and stopped against a tree stump about 50 yards down. I clipped him about three ribs back, took out the top of his heart and took out a lung.
We quarted him and dressed him in about 2hrs, left everything on the hillside with some shirts so the wolves wouldn’t mess with the meat and came back the next day with horses to pack him out.
Needless to say, Kent and I were pretty excited. I think you could hear our screams 4 canyons away. Great moment.