Newfoundland Moose Hunt Film

[HighschoolHunter]

I just got back from the greatest hunting experience of my life up until this point, maybe ever, though hopefully there are more adventures like this to come. Newfoundland moose with my grandfather, uncle, and younger brother. My uncle and brother and I were all fortunate to bag great bulls. 
The rut hadn’t kicked in yet so we weren’t able to call as much as we were anticipating, a lot of hiking through swampy bogs and tundra thickets, glassing from the tops of rolling hills and ridges. 
The first day we glassed up a small bull at first light and watched him move across the opposite canyon side for a while. Then we hiked a few miles further from camp and came to the edge of a cliff where there was a bear on a rock directly below us, and another young bull with 4 cows a few hundred yards further out below us. We watched the bull for a bit, it would have been a super easy shot as he was bedded 250 yards below us with no clue we were there, but he just wasn’t big enough for the first day. My uncle got his bull that morning though.

The next day was cloudy and the fog rolled in while my grandpa and his guide were stalking a big bull a couple miles away, ruining their stalk. Then it poured rain most of the rest of the day so we stayed at the same little glassing knob the rest of the day. Funny enough, we had a small forky bull walk through a bog just 400 yards below us in about the only spot you could see with the fog. Adam (my guide) made a quick cow call to him and he turned on a dime making his way toward us. We lost him in the steel thicket at the bottom of the hill below us but probably 45 minutes later he showed up 100 yards behind us. That was the only bull we saw that day. 
 

The next day we headed back straight to the spot where we’d seen the bear the 1st day, and then about a mile further out to a big open valley. It took us about 4 hours to get there but after 10 minutes of glassing Adam glassed up a bull about 2 miles away with a few cows. You could barely see his paddles from that far away, they were like white specks, but we know if we could see them from that far away he had to be a decent bull. 
‘well after about 3 hours of plowing through tuckerbrush, sinking through bogs and crossing streams we got to where we thought the bull had been. Of course with it being so much later in the day I had just about given up on finding the bull, especially because once we got to the general area we realized the ‘hill’ he had been on was such a gentle slope and so thick and flat you really couldn’t see more than 100 yards in front of you. Well that was just when Adam whispered, ‘there he is! Get your gun on my shoulder!’ All you could see was his antlers sticking up in the brush about 100 yards in front of us. Adam made a bunch of cow calls at him but could not get him to stand up, finally he just started yelling “moose! Get up!” And that got him up. I emptied my gun at him and he didn’t go anywhere but just stood there, finally falling over for me to run over to him after 4 shots. I was ecstatic. 
My brother got his bull that same day about 10 miles in the other direction from camp. We both had to spend the night out on the bogs before we could make it back to camp since we had shot our bulls so far from camp and so late in the day. It wasn't too cold but my clothes were wet from sweating and sinking in bogs all day so it was a pretty miserable night, though I probably saw more stars that night than I’ll ever see again in my life. 
 

Huge thanks to my guide Adam for filming the shot while letting me shoot off his shoulder. I’m still amazed he did that for me; I didn’t even ask him to film it, he just whipped out his phone right before I started blowing out his eardrums. And of course thank you to my grandfather for the hunt of a lifetime.