Beans,
What kinda elk you shootin' son? The bulls I kill are heavy, tuff critters thet hold onto life like a wino holds onto his Wild Irish Rose. Sure, some drop quick. But I've seen elk run into the darkest, steepest country carryin' a bullet with 'im. I seen 'em have a busted spine an' still try to get up an run. I seen a cow run off with a leg shot right off, an' a bullet in the lungs too. An' all this crap 'bout slippin' a bullet here an' there is hog hooey. YOU AIM FOR THE SHOULDER 99% of the time. Bust up his wheels an' take out his lungs. Thets how grandaddy taught me to make meat, an' thets what I tell dudes. Huntin' ain't bench rest shootin'. Plannin' on makin' a MOA shot on a movin' animal under field conditions is the sure sign of a greenhorn.

BJ