LTWL Hunter Online January 2014 | Page 12

the Moose. Once we got there, we saw no signs of him. But, as I’ve learned on previous stalks, you don’t give up too soon. Slowly we moved through the bush while glassing for a glimpse, and then, I see the white paddles, stark white, still fresh with blood. Without the bright white of those paddles as he removed his velvet, I never would’ve seen him. I get to 20 yards, drew my bow and took my shot. The Moose ran, I’m still not sure of the hit, but he expired in the lake. We decide to float him to a bank shore closer to a point where we could get a boat for the meat transport, so we didn’t have to pack out as far. We processed the Moose, which was no easy task. Again, this is Alaska and every piece of meat has to come out. We were rewarded with amazing Moose Steaks that evening. It was such a gratifying feeling to sign the transfer (of meat) tag over to Ray knowing that every piece of that meat would go to feed his family during the coming year. 12