Without a word, we hustled forward for a clear view down the second trail. I caught a flash of antler moving through the trees to our right, and within seconds a bull moose trotted into plain view in the trail, 180 yards away. There was no time to kneel for a rest. I shouldered my rifle, dropped the crosshair on the bull’s chest, and fired. The moose wheeled around, and I fired a second shot over his back. Instead of disappearing into the trees, the bull just stopped. I took a breath, settled the crosshair, and fired a third shot that hit him in the lungs, but it wasn’t needed. The bull was already collapsing from the first bullet.