The mature Black Bear was only 37 yards away.

He had no idea we were there.

But time was short.

We were at the thin edge of shooting light and my little Audrey,

just turned 10 years old and on her very first big game hunt, was peering through

a red dot sight.

Because of the low light, she struggled to see the bear clearly, whispering our way through the process. I helped her find the bear's shoulder,

after which she did her best to glue the glowing red dot right behind it and squeeze.

At the shot, the bear whipped around and bit savage later its

ribcage right where I'd told Audrey to shoot. Then like smoke on a high wind that

bear vanished into the fern choked underbrush.

Minutes after, it was full dark.

We found no blood.

Bird tracks were everywhere and nowhere.

Backing out, we resolved to come back the next morning.

It rained hard all that night and when we returned the ground was just a

soaking morass of mud and decaying vegetation.

Five of us gritted that canyon site for hours looking for Audrey's bear,

who was jungle thick and hard as we tried, we never did find that bear.

Did she make a good shot?

Well, I thought so, but perhaps not.

We'd realize that she didn't have the right optic on her little 6.5

...