Here's the sordid story in Taylor's words.

"This is the first time hunting with my (new) .62 cal Hawken. It weighs 12 pounds, has a 36" barrel, and no sling. By the end of the first day a-foot, I thought I'd chosen poorly. But I was surprised to find that I got used to the weight, and it really was not an issue. However, I need new shirts now, with longer sleeves.

I only had three and a half days for this hunt, so we beat the bush hard from dawn to dusk. On the second day, we spotted a bull and four cows across a valley on a mountain side, but by the time we got to them, they had moved off and disappeared, leaving only tracks in the fresh snow. I was hunting with a friend, and when we returned to camp for a meal on the second day, we met up with the other pair of hunters in our camp, and they had shot a good bull not far from camp. They had seen eleven moose, seven of which were bulls, so we returned to the site in the afternoon to pack out the meat. Having just left camp, we came upon two immature bulls feeding - I took the one on the left, and Keith the one on the right. He waited until I fired, but mine was facing me dead on, and his was quartering away, and making to head for the trees.

The range was only about 25 yards, and I was confident that a head shot would do it, but as I touched the trigger, he turned his head, and his left antler was shot away. At the shot, Keith fired and his bull went down - mine bolted for the heavy timber. I did not think I wounded mine, but we'd deal with that possibility later. Now we had two moose on the ground and lots of work ahead of us. We left the freshly killed bull, and went to the ridge and processed the first animal.

The pack was mostly down hill thankfully, but even so, I was pretty blown by the time it was in the truck. I left the other three at the second bull and went back to camp to bring coffee. By the time I returned with fresh brew, the second bull was in pieces along the trail, so it was a simple thing to get it into the truck. Everyone was pretty jubilant but inside I was beating myself up for flubbing my opportunity.

Next morning with good light and -17 deg. C, our host Michael Schneider used his tracking dog to try to find my moose, but after several hours of serious effort, the dog gave up. Knowing well his dog, Michael announced that there was no blood for the dog to track, so it is unlikely that I wounded the little guy. That was both a relief and a disappointment.

We spent the afternoon hunting a great 'honey hole' but did not see a thing. As the light was failing, we headed back toward camp, and Michael said he wanted to make a phone call, so we headed up a mountain road to a spot he knew provided reception. As we rounded a corner, we saw a bull and a cow on the road ahead at about 90 yards. The cow moved off but the bull stayed and stared like a statue, so it was an easy shot. It's amazing how fast a fellow's luck can change. This is the biggest moose I've shot, and I don't hunt for horns, but I am having a full head mount made, again, another first for me."

Immature bull = 1 1/2 years old. ie: long yearling. they typically run 1 to 7 or 8 points per side, with small diameter bases on their antlers, and small palms. They usually provide 300 to 350 pounds in weight for the 4 quarters, hanging in the butcher's shop.

Taylor has that left antler form the little bull, the one he shot off - 4 or 5 points & tiny little plams. Yes - that .62 knocked it right off his head, about 1/2" above the rosette. Bet that gave him a headache. A tiny split second of movement is all it takes to make an easy situation go bad.