“Before we get started, let’s measure it.” Old George’s voice carried a hint of uncontainable excitement.

Stan immediately understood and pulled a soft tape measure from his backpack. The two of them, acting in harmony, each took one side, pulling from the base to the tip.

When Old George saw the numbers on the tape, his rough hands trembled sharply. He exchanged a glance with Stan, and both saw the shock and ecstasy in each other’s eyes.

“Forty-two inches…” Stan reported the number, restraining his excitement!

“George, the other side is almost exactly the same! We did it… This is a record-worthy size!”

He turned to Lin Yu’an, who was still somewhat clueless, and explained excitedly.

“Kid, do you know what this means? It means its size qualifies for entry into the Boone and Crockett Club’s records!”

Lin Yu’an had heard of the name but did not know much about it, only that it seemed to be some kind of prestigious hunting honor.

Seeing his expression, Old George explained to him: “Lin, you must know that the Boone and Crockett Club is not merely a roster of who shot the biggest game.”

“It is the soul of North American hunting! It’s our ethical code and the responsibility we hunters have pledged to this land.”

He paused, as if organizing his words, intent on making the young man understand more deeply.

“This club was founded by the 26th President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt. Do you know why he founded this club?” Old George looked at Lin Yu’an and asked.

Lin Yu’an shook his head.

“For protection,” Old George said with a voice full of impact.

“For protection! In those days, people killed wild animals like crazy for fur and meat. Buffaloes were nearly driven to extinction, and elk and antelope were also in peril.”

“President Roosevelt, himself a great hunter, gathered the most visionary hunters of the time to form this club.”

“The aim was not to encourage hunting but to save hunting, to save the wilderness we depend on.”

Stan added from the side, “Exactly, many of the hunting regulations we follow today, the ‘fair chase’ principles we talk about, like not using airplanes and cars to chase animals.”

“These core hunting ethics all started with the Boone and Crockett Club. They told the world hunters are not butchers, but guardians of the wilderness!”

Old George nodded and continued, “So, to have your trophy entered into their records, there are two ironclad conditions.”

“First, the size of your game must be astonishing enough — the true king of its species, a victory of genetics.”

“Second, and even more importantly, you must have acquired it under strict adherence to the ‘fair chase’ principles, with no cheating whatsoever.”

He pointed in the direction where those helicopter hunters had disappeared, his eyes showing a trace of disdain.

“Scum like that, no matter how big a ram they get, they’ll never ever qualify to touch the gates of the Boone and Crockett Club.”

“Their actions are exactly what the club vowed to oppose from the very beginning!”

“Lin, Stan, thank you.” He turned his head, looking at them with utmost sincerity.

“Without your persistence and help, the name George Barnes II would never have appeared in the B&C’s official records in my lifetime!”

Stan laughed out loud, “Don’t be silly, George! You deserve this! Without your experience and that damn stubbornness, we couldn’t have helped you with anything.”

Lin Yu’an was also moved by the powerful emotion, looking at the excited old man, filled with respect.

He curiously asked, “George, what should we do next to get it officially recorded?”

“Good question, Lin! It’s not as simple as taking a photo and sending it in; B&C’s rules are stricter than the tax office’s!”

“First, there’s a drying period. We can’t measure now. According to the rules, the horns with the skull must air-dry for at least sixty days.”

“This is to ensure all the moisture evaporates from the skull and keratin, preventing size shrinkage due to dehydration, ensuring the accuracy and fairness of final measurements.”

He paused again, continuing, “After sixty days, we’ll need to contact a measurer in our area. They are volunteers personally trained and certified by B&C, all well-versed in measurement standards, each a respected figure in our hunting circles.”

“By then, they’ll use B&C’s thick ‘Measurement Manual’ to measure dozens of different data.”

“Both horn lengths, the girth at the base, and the girth at four quarter positions, none can be left out.”

“Crucially, the measurer will meticulously check for symmetry. Any asymmetry will result in deductions, that’s the strictest part of B&C; it seeks the most perfect balanced growth.”

“After all the data is filled in a complex official form, the measurer, you, Stan, and I, all three of us as witnesses, will need to sign it.”

“Then, this form, along with our hunting story, will be sent to B&C’s headquarters in Montana.”

Old George said this and let out a long sigh, his face showing immense satisfaction and longing.

He paused and turned, looking at Stan and Lin Yu’an with utmost sincerity, adding:

“Of course, the record will only list my name as the old guy who pulled the trigger, that’s B&C’s rule.”

“But the witness signature section will have both your names!”

“Our names, George Barnes, Stan Williams, Lin Yu’an, and our hunting story, will be permanently imprinted in the next edition of ‘Records and Archives’!”

He grinned widely, showing a bright and pure smile.

“Decades, even a hundred years from now, when someone takes an interest in this record and looks up the original archives.”

“They’ll know that in these mountains of Alaska, the three of us accomplished something amazing together!”

After hearing these words, Lin Yu’an finally completely understood that the Boone and Crockett Club was the Hall of Fame for the North American Hunter!

But this Hall of Fame has transcended hunting itself; it’s a commitment to tradition, a respect for rules, and the ultimate recognition of personal skill and virtue.

To be admitted into this club representing the soul of North American hunting is a lifelong monument for a traditional hunter like Old George.

It is the most glorious mark he can leave on this land he dearly loves!

Old George took a deep breath, turning all his excitement and sentiment into the resolve to act.

He patted Lin Yu’an on the shoulder, his gaze sharp as a knife: “Alright, kid, enough with the emotional stuff; the real test is here. Let’s begin.”

“Kid, from now on, you need to watch carefully, using both your eyes and your heart.”

He solemnly added, “Handling a top-notch Dall sheep is the greatest test for an Alaskan hunter, and also the greatest honor!”

“Every part of it is valuable, and every step has its rules and logic, passed down through generations.”

“This is called making full use of everything, leaving no regrets, which is the highest respect we can pay to the prey that sacrificed its life!”

Old George carefully took out his somewhat wrinkled “Dall sheep harvest tag” from the waterproof pocket of his old parka.

To him, this ticket was far more than a permit; it’s like a letter sent to the Celestial Kingdom.

Using the pocketknife engraved with Martha’s initials on the handle, he meticulously carved today’s date into the designated date and month section of the ticket.

This small action formally declared his ownership of the game in legal terms, and in emotional terms, it affixed a sacred signature to his agreement with his wife.

“Come, Lin, you’re our lucky star, take a few photos for us.”

Stan enthusiastically struck a pose, supporting Old George to sit beside the ram’s head, adjusting the large horns to the most majestic angle.

“Hey, George, give us a smile! Martha wouldn’t like seeing you with that glum face!”

Lin Yu’an took out his mobile phone and captured several group photos of the two elderly men and this magnificent Dall Ram King.

In the photos, Old George solemnly stroked the horns with one hand, while pointing to the sky with the other, as if telling his wife in the Celestial Kingdom that he succeeded!

His face was full of longing, but his smile was bright.

After the photos, Lin Yu’an said to them, “Hold on, I’ll use this to record, David and they would surely want to see the clearest images.”

“Moreover, such a memorable moment deserves to be documented in the best possible way.”

He took the compact DJI Action 2 from the magnetic attachment on his chest and placed it on a flat rock, adjusting the angle.

He pressed the record button, and the lens, with an excellent wide angle, perfectly framed the three of them, the majestic Dall Ram King, and the spectacular snowy mountain backdrop.

After documenting the moment, they worked together to drag the ram onto a slightly sloped, glacier-polished large flat rock.

This natural slaughter platform was selected by Stan through experience, ensuring that during the processing, blood and debris would flow downhill, keeping the meat as clean as possible.

Before starting the task, Old George performed an ancient ritual.

He took out a small metal flask from his pocket, poured some whiskey onto his fingers, and gently smudged it on the ram’s forehead.

“Thank you, great mountain spirit.”

“Thank you for granting us such a perfect creation!”

“We take your flesh for sustenance, your skin for warmth, and your horns for glory. We will treat everything of yours with care, allowing your life to continue in another form.”

He whispered a prayer, his voice solemn, and with the end of the ritual, the tense yet orderly work officially began.

Lin Yu’an took the DJI Action 2 from the rock, skillfully attaching it to his headstrap, and started the first-person recording mode.

The camera moved with his gaze, providing an immersive record with the most impact of this primitive yet professional dissection.

“Alright, let’s split up.” Stan clapped his hands, volunteering to handle the logistics.

“George, you start working with Lin, I’ll find some firewood so that when you’ve finished with the innards, I can make a hot roast using the freshest liver and loin to replenish energy.”

“Great idea!” Old George agreed.

He first guided Lin Yu’an to carefully use the knife tip to slice open the sheep’s abdomen, extending from the sternum to the pelvis.

With a soft “poof,” warm gas rose from the abdominal cavity, and a strong scent mixed with the smell of blood and grasses hit them.

“Take a deep breath, kid, this is the scent of mountain life.”

Old George said in a deep voice, “The innards are what we need to handle first.”

He reached his hand into the warm abdominal cavity, skillfully locating the mesentery and blood vessels connecting the organs, cutting them off with precision using the pocketknife.

He first removed the large, smooth, deep purple-red liver, along with a dark red heart.

“Look at the color of this liver, oily and sharp-edged, without any spots.” Old George displayed it like a piece of art.

“This indicates it’s as healthy as an athlete, and this heart too, with full muscles.”

“These are the first gifts from the mountain god to us, the highest energy, and the highest reward to the hunter.”

He handed the liver and heart to Lin Yu’an, instructing him to carefully place them in a clean bag.

As for the stomach and intestines, they dragged these heavy and tough-to-handle parts out whole, along with the skeleton, returning them to the other predators of this land.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep