Rupp's bull measured 65 1/2 inches across, one of the biggest taken in that area.

I couldn't see the bull, but I could tell by Jaydee's demeanor that he'd found a big one, an outside antler spread of 60 inches being the magic mark in moose hunting. Unfortunately, the setup we had wasn't good for filming or shooting, and as we discussed our options a bush plane flew low overhead, spooking the bull. He didn't go far, though, and we soon moved to within 100 yards of where the bull fed at the edge of a long, narrow clearing. Still no shot.

We kept up a game of cat and mouse, trying to get in a position where we could capture the bull on film before shooting, and eventually we closed to within 50 yards. Here we received an unexpected bonus. Our bull had encountered another, smaller bull, and the two began to push each other back and forth with their massive antlers.

The action was taking place behind a clump of small trees, and with them mixing it up in all that cover I didn't feel comfortable taking a shot, so we waited as the two giants sparred. If I was relatively calm when I killed my sheep, I was relatively rattled now, and the longer I watched and listened to their mock battle, the faster my heart beat and the drier my mouth became.

The pair separated, and we followed them to some thick timber at the end of the clearing. Jaydee raked his oil bottle aggressively, and the smaller bull walked out of the timber to look for the intruder.

Jaydee kept raking, trying to draw the big bull out into the open. After long, tense minutes, the bull finally emerged from the trees. He marched left along the edge of the clearing, his huge antlers turned toward us in a display of dominance.

The .270's fore-end rested in the vee between my thumb and fingers, my palm braced against a tree, and I followed the walking bull with the crosshairs until, at a mere 40 yards, Jed gave me the go-ahead.

I fired, and the bull swapped ends and began trotting across the clearing. I worked the bolt and fired again, hitting him in the chest for a second time, then delivered a third 140-grainer into the base of his neck. That swung him around and stopped him. I put a fourth round into his chest, and he fell heavily to the ground. All the action transpired in the space of about 10 seconds and 30 yards.

"Holy smokes!" Jaydee exclaimed when the bull toppled. He had reason to be excited. The tape he carried wasn't big enough to stretch to the tips of the longest points, and Jaydee estimated him to be between 64 and 66 inches. The bull was later measured at 651?2 inches, the biggest they'd ever taken in that particular area.

With a day and a half remaining until the bush plane was to pick us up, we made a couple of forays to a high, windswept ridge to try to fill our black bear tags, but to be honest I didn't care whether we found a bear or not. I'd already had the hunt of a lifetime.

For more information, contact Hunt Alaska, 907/456-3885, www.huntalaskawithus.com.