Wait A Second: On the final day of my hunt, I was back in the spot where Joe and I had begun our unsuccessful stalk. I was sitting on the same rock, in fact, when caribou began to file out of the same dip and went into the same timber. I quickly got into position for a shot, but it turned out that the best bull of the bunch was the first one, the one that was already gone by the time I mounted my rifle.

I was determined to catch these caribou, even if that meant spooking them in the process. After the last one was out of sight, I took off at a dead run. I plunged into the timber. My only shot, I figured, was to get to the cliff and catch the caribou crossing the bog at its base.