At first light I hear what I think is Bob Mooney out getting firewood for cooking breakfast. My brother hears it as well but thinks it is a moose. I said you better go look. He disappears in his ginch with my rifle as it is the only one in the tent. He hits the moose hard a couple of times and being my rifle he is out of shells and yells for more.
Bob Daffe hears the shots and the request for more ammo and sticks his head out of his tent and asks me,
- “What’s he shooting at?”
- I said, “A moose.”
- He says, “A big one?”
- I said, “Oh yes.”
He grabs his 45/70, levers a round into it, and says, “I’ll send you one.” BOOM!
The moose was dead right there!
