My latest Tahr hunt was with an aussie bloke.
He's taken 13 out of the 15 South Pacific Game species with a bow.
(Now only a Wapiti and a Whitetail to go.)
He'd put in 40 days trying for a Bull Tahr, regarded as one of the world's greatest bowhunting challenges. Why? Check out the terrain they live in, along with their accute senses:Sight, Sound, Smell
To top it off you deal with the vaguaries of weather and access to the prime hunting areas.
Anyway the hunt went something like this:

Flew in by chopper to a remote valley, and dropped camp gear at 1100 metres took a GPS reading, then got dropped off at 1600 metres on the back flight. Sat and glasssed the surroundings, most of the game had headed for cover at the sound of the whirly bird.
At 4 in the afternoon we saw a couple of Tahr up near the skyline 1,800 metres about 2 KM away. Decided to go for them. Climbed high through steep snow chutes and rocky ribs. Caught up with the Tahr on Dusk. Climbed higher to get above and into rocks for cover. the bowman put in a stealthy stalk and whack he had his first Bull, the Bull fell into a icy chute and slid down hill at a rate of knots, I followed with the bino's then scrambled down to retreive, unfortunately it had slid into a deep crevasse and out of sight, not wanting to suffer the same fate, I had to abandon retreival, just too risky, as the crevasse could collapse at any time.
Another group of Tahr was located, nearby and undisturbed.
Whack another arrow and another Bull down, a second Bull headed my way looking over it's shoulder to see what had happened to it's mate. I took the shot with my rifle at 297 yards uphill, the Bull crumpled and slid down a snow chute. Meanwhile the aussie was caping his Bull for a half body mount. I called him on the radio, and he retreived my Bull on his descent, we headskinned him just on darkness, in a great rush, no time for photos . Then packed the meat, heads and skins and hightailed down the steep mountainside for our camp in the valley 2,000 feet below.
The GPS eventually found our gear dump and we set up camp at mid-night, shattered but happy.
Day two was spent mainly glassing from various vantage points, and getting a fix on the animals feeding patterns. And cleaning skulls and capes.
A group of 5 Bulls was feeding high opposite our camp and moving low in the evening.
In the afternoon I chased a buck chamois, sprinting through soft snow to try and close the distance, but he wasn't hanging around. The wind came up, galeforce but dry, getting blown off our feet, staying off the east facing slopes as there were avalanches peeling off everywhere.

I spotted a nice big Bull and his smaller mate heading into a rocky gut about 3 km away, so a fast traverse had me in their vicinity with only a half hour of daylight to spare. Light drizzel mixed with dust was an unusual combination, that had no respect for optics. Everything was covered in a milky film. The Tahr came across a slope from me in single file, only minutes of usable light and fuzzy optics. There's a small one, there's a couple of females and now that one looks big and hairy, has to be the one, ranged at 245 yards, an awkward shot but blam, he was down the 140 nosler partition doing it's job vey effectively.
Unfortunately not the big one, but the smaller of the two, as often happens the big fella had just quietly slipped away. Still not a bad trophy and a nice blonde mane.
I dragged him down an avalanche chute as far as I could, and then hightailed for camp. Found the tents falttened by the windstorm.

Next day we hunted the 5 bulls opposite camp
We had two options; To stalk them high in the Bluffs where they bed, or wait in ambush as they descend for their evening feed.
We opted to go rock climbing. The Bowman climbed high and I glassed from below in the process retreiving my Bull from the night before.
The Bowman closed in through the bluffs and got above the dozing Bulls, Whack, and he had his third in three days. The arrow went a bit far back, he'd taken the shot at 57 yards at the maximum of his range.
The Tahr raced downhill toward me, I was tempted to give it a finisher, but respected my companions wishes, to complete his kills by bow only.
The Bull lay down, mortally hit with a liver shot, this gave my mate time to descend and finish the job. Was quite something to watch the arrow release, sail through the air, pass through the animal and crumple against rock, and to see the animal fall dead in it's tracks.
The Bowman was ecstatic, a beautiful big mature bull with a very handsome pelt and cape, he opted for full body mount. can't wait to see it finished.
That about wraps up our 5 day trip, last day was spent glassing and cleaning skins etc. we flew out around lunch time.
The following picture shows the aussie with his trophy, in the background you can see the steepness of the country we were hunting in.