When the bull stood up I didn’t have a good shot angle on him and wasn’t able to squeeze the release. He got to the bottom of the little bowl they were in and started up the other side. Then he made a deadly mistake, and stopped to take a look back. When he stopped I guessed the yardage and made the adjustment on my aim. The next thing I knew I had my hands in the air, embracing all of the emotions of joy, relief, and thankfulness for having just harvested my first bull elk.