When I strung my longbow and set out on the trail that crisp September morning in 1992, I never guessed that in a few hours my life would be not only threatened, but forever changed. At the time of the attack, I was a 39-year-old general contractor, and was with my 49-year-old hunting partner, Dr. Fred Bahnson, from Bozeman, Mont.
A skiff of snow had fallen overnight, and the hunting conditions northwest of Yellowstone National Park were close to perfect. At first are optimism seemed justified. By mid-morning we had downed a four-point mulie. We said a brief Prayer of thanks for the animal, then dressed it and hung it in a tree, planning to return the next...