American Hunting: Starting with Solitary Life in the Wilderness

Chapter 132 Boone and Crockett Club
"Let's take some measurements before we start working," Old George said, his voice tinged with barely suppressed excitement.

Stan immediately understood, took out a measuring tape from his backpack, and the two of them tacitly took turns pulling it from the base to the tip.

When old George saw the numbers on the ruler, his rough hand trembled violently. He exchanged a glance with Stan, and they both saw the shock and ecstasy in each other's eyes.

“Forty-two inches…” Stan announced the number in a suppressed, excited voice!

“George, the other side is almost exactly the same! We did it… This is a size that will go down in history!”

He turned to Lin Yu'an, who was still somewhat confused, and excitedly explained.

"Kid, do you know what this means? It means its size qualifies it for the Boone and Crockett Club records!"

Lin Yu'an had heard of this name, but he didn't know much about it, only that it seemed to be some kind of high-level hunting honor.

Seeing his expression, old George explained to him, "Lin, you need to know that the Boone and Crockett Club is more than just a roster of who has hunted the biggest prey."

"It is the soul of North American hunting! It is our moral code and the responsibility we hunters have promised to this land."

He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts, trying to help the young man understand more deeply.

"This club was founded by Theodore Roosevelt, the 26th president of the United States. Do you know why he founded this club?" Old George asked Lin Yu'an.

Lin Yu'an shook his head.

"It's for protection," old George's voice rang out firmly.

"It was for protection! In those days, people slaughtered wild animals like madmen for their fur and meat. Bison were almost wiped out, and elk and antelope were also in grave danger."

"President Roosevelt, himself a great hunter, united a group of the most visionary hunters of the time to establish this club."

"The goal is not to encourage hunting, but to save hunting and the wilderness on which we depend for survival."

Stan added, "That's right. Many of the hunting regulations we follow now, what we call the 'fair pursuit' principle, such as not using airplanes and cars to chase animals."

"These core hunter ethics all originated with Boone and the Crockett Club. They told the world that hunters are not butchers, but guardians of the wilderness!"

Old George nodded and continued, "So, there are two ironclad conditions for getting your spoils into their records."

"First, your prey must be enormous in size, the true king of its species, the victor of its genes."

"Secondly, and more importantly, you must obtain it in full compliance with the principle of 'fair pursuit,' and you cannot engage in any cheating."

He pointed in the direction where the hunters who had been flying the helicopter had disappeared, a hint of disdain in his eyes.

“Scum like those who just killed a sheep, no matter how big they hit, will never, ever be qualified to even touch the threshold of Boone and Crockett’s club.”

"Their actions are exactly what the club has sworn to oppose from the very beginning!"

"Lin, Stan, thank you." He turned his head and looked at the two of them with utmost sincerity.

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

Stan laughed loudly, "Don't talk nonsense, George! You deserve it! Without your experience and that damn stubbornness, we wouldn't have been able to help you much."

Lin Yu'an was also moved by this strong emotion. He looked at the excited old man and was filled with respect.

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

"Good question, Lin! This isn't as simple as just taking a picture and sending it over. B&C's rules are even stricter than the tax bureau's!"

"First, there's the drying period, so we can't measure it now. According to regulations, the horns with the skull attached must be air-dried naturally for at least sixty days."

"This is to allow the moisture in the skull and keratin to evaporate completely, preventing the size from shrinking due to dehydration, and ensuring the fairness and accuracy of the final measurement results."

He paused, then continued, "Sixty days from now, we will need to contact a surveyor for our area. They are all volunteers personally trained and certified by B&C, who are very familiar with the measurement standards, and each of them is a highly respected figure in our hunter community."

"At that time, he will measure more than a dozen different data according to B&C's thick 'Measurement Manual'."

“The lengths of the two corners, the perimeter of the root, and then the perimeters of the four quarters, none of them can be omitted.”

"Most importantly, the surveyors will check the symmetry extremely carefully, and any asymmetry will result in a deduction of points. This is the most rigorous aspect of B&C, as it pursues the most perfect balanced growth."

"After all the data is filled into a complicated official form, the surveyor, you, me, and Stan—the three of us as witnesses—have to sign it."

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

Old George let out a long sigh of relief, his face revealing immense satisfaction and longing.

He paused, turned his head, and looked at Stan and Lin Yu'an with utmost sincerity, adding:

"Of course, the record will only say my name, the old guy who fired the shot. That's B&C's rule."

"But the signature section for the witnesses will include both of your names!"

"Our names—George Barnes, Stan Williams, Lin Yu-an, and our hunting stories—will be permanently printed in the next edition of Records and Archives!"

He grinned, revealing a bright and genuine smile.

"Decades, or even a hundred years later, when someone becomes interested in this record and goes to consult the original archives."

"They will know what an amazing thing the three of us accomplished together in these mountains of Alaska!"

After hearing these words, Lin Yu'an finally understood completely: Boone and the Crockett Club were the Hall of Fame of the North American Hunters!

But this Hall of Fame transcends hunting itself; it represents a commitment to tradition, a respect for the rules, and the ultimate recognition of personal skill and character. For a traditional hunter like George, being inducted into this club, which embodies the soul of North American hunting, is a monument that will stand for a lifetime.

It is the most glorious mark he can leave on this land he loves so deeply!
Old George took a deep breath, turning all his excitement and emotion into a determination to take action.

He patted Lin Yu'an on the shoulder, his eyes sharp as knives: "Alright, kid, enough with the sentimentality, the real test is here, let's begin."

"Kid, you need to watch carefully from now on. Use both your eyes and your heart."

He solemnly added, "Handling a top-quality Dol goat is the greatest test and the greatest honor for an Alaskan hunter!"

“Every part of it has value, and every step has its own rules and principles, which are the experience passed down from generation to generation.”

"This is called making the most of everything and leaving no regrets. It is the highest respect we can express to the prey that sacrificed its life!"

Old George first carefully pulled out his somewhat creased "Doll Goat Harvest Ticket" from the waterproof pocket of his old windbreaker.

For him, this ticket was far more than just a permit; it was more like a letter sent to heaven.

Using the small knife he carried with him, the handle of which was engraved with the initials of "Martha," he meticulously carved today's date, stroke by stroke, into the date and month fields specified on the ticket.

This small action legally declared his ownership of the prey, and emotionally, it added a sacred touch to his agreement with his wife.

"Come on, Lin, you're our lucky star, take some pictures of us."

Stan had already struck a pose with great enthusiasm. He helped old George sit next to the ram's head, straightening the huge horns and adjusting them to their most majestic angle.

"Hey George, smile! Martha doesn't like seeing you with a long face!"

Lin Yu'an took out his phone and took several photos of the two elderly people and the magnificent ram king.

In the photo, old George solemnly strokes the ram's horn with one hand and points to the sky with the other, as if telling his wife in heaven that he has done it!
His face was filled with longing, but his smile was incredibly bright.

After taking the photos, Lin Yu-an said to them, "Wait a minute, I'll use this to record this. David and the others definitely want to see the clearest picture."

"Moreover, such a memorable moment deserves to be recorded in the best way possible."

He took the small DJI Action 2 from the magnetic pendant on his chest, placed it on a flat rock, and adjusted the angle.

He pressed the record button, and the camera, with an excellent wide-angle lens, perfectly framed the three of them, the majestic Dorgon King, and the magnificent snow-capped mountain backdrop.

After taking photos as evidence, they worked together to drag the ram to a large, flat rock that was slightly sloping downwards and relatively smooth, polished by the glacier.

This natural slaughtering platform was chosen by Stan based on his experience, ensuring that blood and impurities flow away along the slope during processing, thus maximizing the cleanliness of the meat.

Before taking action, old George performed an ancient ritual.

He took the small, flat metal flask from his pocket, poured some whiskey onto his fingers, and gently rubbed it on the ram's forehead.

"Thank you, great spirit of the mountain."

"Thank you for giving us such a perfect creation!"

“We take your flesh and blood to live, your fur to keep warm, and your head and horns to bring glory. We will treat everything about you well and let your life continue in another way.”

He prayed in a low, solemn voice. The ceremony ended, and the tense but orderly work officially began.

Lin Yu-an removed the DJI Action 2 from the rock, skillfully attached it to his headband bracket, and started the first-person perspective recording mode.

The camera followed his gaze, providing a powerful and immersive record of this raw and professional dissection.

"Alright, let's split up." Stan clapped his hands and took the initiative to take on the logistical tasks.

“George, you take Lin and start working. I’ll go find some firewood. Once you’ve finished processing the offal, I’ll use the freshest liver and tenderloin to make a hot roast to replenish my energy.”

“Great idea!” Old George agreed.

He first instructed Lin Yu'an to carefully cut open the sheep's abdomen with the tip of a knife, from the sternum all the way to the pelvis.

With a soft "poof," warm gas rose from the abdominal cavity, and a strong aroma mixed with the smell of blood and fermented grass wafted over.

"Take a deep breath, kid. This is the taste of life in the mountains."

Old George said in a deep voice, "The internal organs are what we need to deal with first."

He reached into the warm abdominal cavity and precisely located the mesentery and blood vessels connecting the internal organs, skillfully severing them one by one with a knife.

He first removed the huge, smooth, deep purplish-red liver and a dark red heart.

“Look at the color of this liver, it’s oily and shiny, with sharp edges and no spots at all.” Old George said as if he were showing off a work of art.

"This shows that it is as healthy as an athlete, and the same goes for its heart, which is full of muscle."

"These are the first gifts the mountain god gave us, with the highest energy, and also the highest reward for the hunters."

He handed the liver and heart to Lin Yu'an and asked him to carefully put them in a clean bag.

As for the stomach and intestines, they drag them out intact; these heavy and difficult-to-handle parts, along with the skeleton, will be returned to other predators on this land.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

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(End of this chapter)