"Quick! Get down!" My dad said.

“What? Why?”
“Shhh! She’s coming right at us!”
“Where?”

I sat quietly as my dad looked across the valley at two cow elk coming in our direction.
We had been walking through the forest since 6:45 A.M just waiting to see some elk and get my
first kill. I lay down, put my gun to my shoulder, and began looking through the scope to try and
find one.

“I don't see it”
“Straight ahead standing there looking at us.”
Finally, for the first time ever, I had an elk in my crosshairs. She was standing there
clueless, looking right at me, probably wondering what I was.

“Okay, now load your gun,” my dad said as he crouched behind me. “And when you got
the center right on her chest, fire.”

My adrenalin was through the roof as I gently put my shaky finger around the trigger. For
a slight moment, it was dead silent. Then BOOM! I missed. She still stood there, so I shot again.
This time, I hit her. A couple more elk stood up and they all looked around before they took off
down the hill into the forest.

My dad and I followed the small blood trail all down the mountain and through the valley,
for at least half a mile. As we walked on, and the blood trail went from dots the size of pennies to
dots the size of peas, less and less, smaller with less in between the farther we went. I was
hoping and praying that we wouldn’t lose the small blood trail, because if we lost the blood trail,
chances are I lost my elk. With the way they took off running down the hill, they could be in a
completely different state by now. Although, I couldn’t help but lose hope as we walked on.
“I don’t think you got a kill shot, based on the color of the blood and how thin it is” my dad
said. “I think you just skimmed her, but we will keep going a little further until we find her so she
doesn't have to suffer if it is a bad wound.”

Then, right as we were about to stop looking, my dad said, “Right there!” I turned to my
left and saw a wounded elk stand up 50 yards away from me and try to run. It was limping
because I shot it in the leg. Without hesitation I quickly brought my gun to my shoulder and shot
twice. Finally, she dropped. “You got her!” my dad said.

I got a rush of excitement as me and my dad took off up the hill to her. I couldn’t wait to go
touch her, my first elk. This is the moment I had been waiting for since my dad placed my brand
new rifle in my hand and said, “Let’s go kill an elk.” Some days out hunting we wouldn’t even see
a deer, which sometimes left me coming home with no hope, feeling like I would never shoot an
elk.

“Great shot!” my dad said while we stood there and looked at her.

“Thanks! It’s about time I shot one.”

“Well, you definitely earned her, and I’m proud of you for that.”

The moments after that were filled with many pictures, high fives, lots of smiles, and
another hunting story to add to the rest. This is something I never want to forget because it was
one of the proudest days of my life, and I felt like this was something that I earned because we
walked three miles in just to get her, and then the three mile pack out, along with many more
miles of walking and seeing nothing on other hunting trips. I could finally tell off all the boys at
school who said I would never shoot anything because I was a girl. Along with that, I learned to
never give up hope, and keep going after what you want because if you work hard enough it will
all pay off in the end.