I about pulled my hair out while helping my dad with his buffalo hunt. I had taken a great bull years ago and knew what I was looking at. On day two, we caught a herd walking right up the road across a canyon where the road doubled back. I was so excited that we could kill one on the road and save all the packing. I found the bull and told him which one it was and ranged it at 160 yards.. I waited, and waited, and waited, and they finally walked up to where the road turned and went over the hill. I asked him what the #$(# he was doing and he said he just couldn't be sure it was a bull... I about screamed!
By the time we got up to where they crossed, they had disappeared. The next morning, we caught them again but this time over that ridge and out in a chained area just off the road, another prime location to drop a big buff. We had the guy camped next to us with us, and we got out into the chaining and I had them sit down and get ready to shoot. I stood right behind them glassing and finally located the bull about 100 yards away standing broadshide in front of a large cedar. I showed them where it was and told them to shoot....nothing... it finally got nervous and started off and then they all busted down the canyon. The guy with us chased them down and across the bottom into never, never land. When he got back he said "Wow, that was a big bull with them".
I said "no CHIT Sherlock"...
He ended up killing on the last day but I wasn't there..couldn't take it anymore...lol..