As we pulled off the main dirt road onto the old two track and headed back along the rim where my son Brian Marshall had spotted the "Bull" the previous day. I made the comment after nearly twenty-five years of guiding clients, I felt a little like a "Dude" myself.

I have been a licensed guide myself for almost twenty-five years, specializing in Bear and Mountain Lion hunts with hounds. My son Brain and I had hunted together since he was two years old. I used to pack him in to a deer blind where I would archery deer hunt and try to keep him warm and quite, It never seemed to work as he was always making too much noise breaking sticks and rustling around.

Now he has his own very successful guide business specializing in Deer, Elk, Antelope or whatever tag the client can draw. It sure seemed like a turn of fate that he had done the scouting and located an exceptional Bull for me and now he was going to try and get the "old Man" in close enough (without making too much noise) to take this record animal.

I had been waiting for this tag nineteen years, The last time I drew an Elk tag myself was 1981. I had lived in the Payson area for almost twenty years and never could land a unit 22 early Bull tag. Brian kept after me to put in for the late hunts, Where the odds of getting drawn are a slight bit better, I finally gave in and this year put in for the December hunt. We both have guided hunters on this hunt and even though we ran 100% success, it is really a tough hunt. The weather can range from the mid 80’s to the teen’s, you can have a drought with no water at all, even at the best hole’s or it can rain the whole time. Or maybe snow so deep you can hardly get around. Living in the Payson area for so long we both knew the area really well and I had quite a collection of video’s of Elk, Lot’s of them in my back yard drinking from my dog’s waters. It sure made it tough to pass those twenty-yard shots out the bedroom window! But I did and now back to my hunt.

Along with us on this hunt was my grandson Justin Williams (an accomplished hunter in his own rights) and my grand-daughter Amber who is just ten years old, However at this young age she has been with her dad Brian and brother Justin and myself on numerous hunts. At the young age of four years she had been to four Bear trees!

We left the truck with just enough daylight to see by and started over to the edge of the mesa we were hunting on. It was a twenty-minute walk with lots of rocks and cactus as is typical here in Arizona.

When we got around one hundred yards from the edge of the bluffs, Brian had us wait up and he went on to make sure we wouldn’t spook the bull if he were in the bluffs just below us. After Brian glassed over the edge he gave me a signal to come up where he was so I did as did Justin and Amber.

When I arrived where Brian was standing I started glassing the huge "bowl" where this old bull called home. I had just put my 15x60 Doctors up to take a look when Brian gave a short whistle and pointed towards the canyon below us. I swung around with my Doctors and felt a shiver run up my back when I seen my Bull standing broadside around a quarter a mile away. We watched him for awhile and took some videos through Brian’s spotting scope. We watched him feeding away from us, Heading for another enormous canyon a half-mile further away. Brian turned to me and said are you ready to take your bull?

Brian and I started our stalk; we had to back track into a side canyon further away from the bull. To keep out of site and be as quite as possible. Justin and Amber remained behind to try and video the rest of the hunt. It took Brian and I a little over an hour to skirt around the one hundred-foot bluff we standing on earlier. On the way to a brushy knob we had decided would be the best advantage spot to try a shot from, We spotted three shed horns from previous years, all belonging to this old Monarch. We worked our way through brush. That at times was over our head. Every once in awhile I would step on a branch that would make a small snap and Brian would let me know with a quick glance and a small grin that I needed to be a little more careful if I didn’t want to spook this wise old bull.

We finally reached a small opening in the brush on the side of the small knob. We started glassing again, and spotted him around three hundred yards away.

He was feeding towards the large canyon to the south and further away from us all the time. The brush was over his head. All we could see was a little glimpse of movement as he worked his way towards his lay up spot for the day. Brian and I both new the clock was ticking and my chances of a clean shot were getting slimmer by each second!

I had a good solid rest where I cranked my nine power Redfield scope up to high. It was mounted on my old 7MM Remington Magnum, This was my favorite rifle as I have taken every one of the big ten here in Arizona with it except a Buffalo and Elk, I hoped to cut that down to one in the next few seconds.

Much to my surprise I was rock solid not a bit of "Buck Fever" yet that is. Brian whispered to me, look a little ahead of him there is a small bluff area he is heading for, do you see it? I said I did. We both agreed when he reached it he would have to turn towards us to shirt around it. There was a small opening in the brush about the size of a steering wheel, That would be my last and only chance for a shot. We both had agreed earlier that if I couldn’t make a clean shot we would pass as we didn’t want to scare him out of the country or worse yet wound him and maybe lose him.

He came to the small bluff area and turned towards us Brian said now! Take him! As I look through my scope all I could see was antlers, Then he dropped his head to pick his next step. I held the cross hairs at the base of his neck and squeezed the trigger. I heard the report as the 7MM went off and saw the dust just behind his shoulder kick up a split second later. This was possible as my nephew Ted Thompson and put a muzzle brake on my trusty OLE 7MM just for this hunt.

Brian said you nailed him solid, I settled down and tried to locate him in the scope again, However I couldn't see him as he had taken a step to his left back in the brush. I told Brian I didn’t have another shot, Brian said don’t worry he is going to tip over any second. He stood there for at least five minutes then I heard him as he fell.

We waited thirty minutes to make sure he was down then we started over where we last seen him. Just as we got there the brush came alive as he got up not more than ten feet away, Brian hollered shoot him, I had cleared my rifle, Somehow I managed to get another shell in and fired from the hip hitting him between the eyes. This shot anchored him as the 159 grain Remington coreloc dead center down his throat into his vitals.

That’s when the "Buck Fever" set in! I could hardly talk I was shaking so badly.

We took lots of pictures and started the cleaning process. It took us four hours to walk out, as we were all loaded to the max. On the way out we crossed a small side canyon, along the bluffs under a cedar tree was a smoking hot Mountain Lion scratch, When I seen it I told Brian, It’s too bad we don’t have the hounds we could smoke this track. He said " I’m glad we don’t I know you we would be running this "Tom and Packing Elk at the same time"!

We brought most of the Elk out the first day, with four of us packing; this country was to rough to get a horse into.

The next day a friend of ours, John Browning (a guide himself) went back and helped Brian bring the rest of the Elk out.

The old Elk is at the taxidermist now and will be in my trophy room in a few more weeks, where I can relive the hunt that had a Nineteen-year wait! And I forgot to mention I had him scored SCI 374 3/8.

Bill Marshall