An hour later, we set up overlooking a brush-choked gully, and Frank began to rattle, lightly tickling the antlers at first, then building up to an all-out fight. And it worked. Scrunched down against a scrub oak, I was watching the far end of the gully when a rack buck appeared, maybe 200 yards away. He was headed in our direction, and coming fast. In less than five minutes, he was in range, though I couldn't get a clear view of his antlers, much less a shooting lane to his heart-lung area. I waited, heart pounding, and sure enough, suddenly I saw his head and neck pop up over the lip of the gully, looking in our direction, trying to find the source of the rattling antlers. I had a throat shot at 45 yards and took it as soon as I saw he was a huge 9-pointer. The 338 Winchester cartridge--a new caliber from Federal, one with incredible power and no more kick than that of a 30/06-did the job efficiently, dropping the buck literally where he stood.