4. Another Chance

It had been a good varmint hunting trip so far for the old elk hunter.
He was three for three and the Nosler bullets had not failed him. For that matter they never had failed him in 30 years. He had experimented with bullets from Hornady and Speer and they had performed well, but he kept coming back to Nosler bullets partly to keep the memories of his father alive. The first bullet he had ever loaded was a lathe turned bullet made by hand by John Nosler. He had loaded that up for his father to use on an elk hunt. For the rest of his father's life each fall he had loaded up Nosler bullets for his elk hunts. He had kept the last bullet from that first box of Nosler bullets to help him remember the good times at the reloading bench.

Sitting in camp sipping the hot coffee and chewing on elk jerky he planned the rest of his hunting trip. Deer season was over and elk season was a week away. Plenty of time for some more coyote calling.
But as he had for many years, he decided it was time to switch to his elk rifle for the remainder of his varmint shooting. This gave him excellent practice before elk season to fine tune his technique with the actual rifle he would depend on in the later hunt.

The morning hunt had yielded some young coyotes so he was glad to see some large paw prints in the snow in the bottom of the other canyon that ran down the hill from his camp. He preferred the challenge of older wiser coyotes. For this he had brought along a electronic caller that would do a variety of calls other than rabbits.

The last coyote brother had regained his wind and moved out from under the sage brush. With no brothers to help him hunt he must be ever more on the alert for prey and danger especially since loosing his last two brothers this morning. The thunder he heard and their demise must be connected somehow. The only thing else different about the morning was the new smells. He must be alert to them from now on.

He headed down the dry creek bed until it joined another dry creek bed.
Heading up the new creek bed he was working from one side of the draw to another in hopes of finding a meal. He caught a scent he recognized as coyote but nothing about it reminded him of any coyote he had known.
The wind shifted slightly and he caught the scent of ripe carrion. He knew that meant a meal with little work if there were no other predators on the carcass. Further up the draw both smells got stronger with the carrion being the most interesting. Toping the crest of a sandbar he found the carcass but there was competition. The coyote smell belonged to an old male that was gnawing on the ribs of the dead cow. As he approached the old coyote warned him with a growl and postering. The last brother circled the carcass and worked towards it without the warnings becoming stronger.

It felt good to swallow the cold but tasty beef. He ripped off small pieces he could easily run with in case the old male quit tolerating his presence.

The old elk hunter slowly worked his way down the canyon using his walking stick to steady him over the uneven ground. Hunting was fun but at his age it was also hard work. He kept looking for a good vantage point to call from. Several places were acceptable but he wanted a longer opening to make use of the 300 WSM and the 180 grain Noslers. Eventually the creek bed straigtened out at the bottom of the canyon and he paused to survey the possible calling positions.
It was then he noticed the carcass of the cow. About a hundred yards away with nothing to obscure his view. He moved over to the base of a large rock and put his back to hit. He gathered nearby sage brush and make himself nearly invisible. The wind was still but the puff bottle showed some movement down the creek. Not enough to worry about as long as he didn't do something like fart.
Almost as bad as a fart was the belch he couln't surpress.

The last brother was enjoying his meal but was ever alert with the old male nearby and other predators likely to be attracted to the scent of the ripe cow.
He paused from his eating to take a leak when he caught a faint scent he recognized.
It was the same strange scent from earlier that morning. This made him uneasy and he stood up to further test the air. This movement irritated the old male and he came around the carcass with teeth bared, back bowed, and posturing to force dominance.
The young coyote started to go into a submissive position when the male coyote exploded into red mist and several parts. The last brother was confused but not hesitant to leave rapidly while the very loud thunder clapped and echoed off the canyon walls.

The old elk hunter took his rifle down from his shoulder and away from the walking stick he used as a rest. He saw the young coyote first and assumed he was the last of the three from the morning. But when the mature coyote came into view the decision was made. Let the young one go to learn and mature. Take the old one who had made a fatal mistake. As expected, the Nosler's effect was devastating coming from a 300 WSM at short range. He also expected another Nosler to do its job in the upcoming elk season.