Even though there doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to when or where caribou go, on Thursday morning, we figured we would head in the direction of where we saw them the night before. As luck would have it, as we were cresting a rise about a half a mile from camp, we bumped into them on coming up the other side. They were a little too far for an offhand shot and when I got into a kneeling position I couldn't see them. I had to walk at an angle towards them to gain a bit of elevation and finally could get them in the scope. Of course the only bull in the group was behind a cow and calf so I had to wait for them to clear. Once the cow started to trot, the rest followed. I swung through the center of the bull and touched off a shot at around 260 yards. I was quite happy to see him roll. He did get back up and stagger away and was soon over a slight rise. I knew he was hit hard so took my time following up. As luck would have it, he made it another half mile from camp before bedding down where I was able to get in a finishing shot. Amazingly, my first shot went through both shoulders and the exit wound was big enough to drop a tennis ball into and he made it that far. I was shooting my 300WM with 165gr Hammers.