My name is Lilly Cubin, and I am currently 12 years old. However, when I was 11, I shot an elk with a crossbow. This is how it all happened.
Prior to 2023, a person had to be at least 12 years old to hunt big game in Wyoming, but the law recently changed so that a person could hunt big game if they turned 12 in the calendar year they were hunting. I had no idea the law had changed, but my dad is so into hunting that he had done his homework and found this little loophole. We were so excited! We applied for licenses, and I was lucky enough to get an elk, deer, and antelope license. I chose to use a crossbow because I was concerned about the kick from a high- powered rifle.
Starting in July, we practiced and practiced shooting the crossbow. At first, I was way off center, but after a few days’ practice, I was a whole lot better. Eventually, we found a tripod that made all the difference in the world. When I shot from my tripod, it was a bullseye almost every time!
As the big day grew closer, we tried on all our gear to make sure that it still fit. Dad made sure that we all had scent-free camo, rain gear, and safety whistles just in case. We stopped using scented shampoo and conditioner about five days before we left for the hunt.
When the big day came, my mom, dad, two sisters, grandpa, our dog, and I all loaded up. We drove up the mountain to where we were going to stay for the night. We set up camp and got all our gear ready. We set up a wall tent and had a bunkhouse to sleep in. In total, there were six people, one dog, and a whole bunch of wasps in our camp.
The first night, we all went to a blind that my dad had set up about a month before. We had a trail camera set up next to the blind that had taken tons of pictures of big bulls all summer long. We sat in the blind for three hours but didn’t see anything. We decided to go back to camp because it was getting dark.
Back at camp, we warmed up some chili for dinner and talked about our plan for the next day. It didn’t take long before we all started having trouble keeping our eyes open.
The next morning, we were back up before daylight. We went back to the same ground blind where we had sat the night before. In all honesty, I have no idea what happened for the next three hours because I was fast asleep, as was everyone else except for my dad. When we all woke up, we were hungry and tired of sitting in our ground blind. We were beginning to wonder if we would ever see an elk. We decided to go back to camp for lunch.
Back at camp, our dog, Mort, was trying to eat wasps. As you can guess, that did not go well for him and he got stung in the mouth multiple times. He just kept yelping! Also, my little sister didn’t feel well, so she went to lay down. While she was sleeping, it started pouring rain. It was coming down in sheets! Everybody huddled up under the roof of our cooking space and wished that we had our rain gear. Unfortunately, our rain gear was in the bunkhouse. We decided that Dad should go and grab it for us, so he did. He looked like a wet rat when he got back.
We had a big decision to make. Should we try to shoot an elk in the pouring rain, or would we stay comfortably under the roof and wait for the rain to blow over? My sister, Viv, and I made it very clear that we wanted to go hunting no matter what. We also decided that the best move was for Grandpa Wayne to stay with our little sister, Bea. We would go in light with our dad. The plan was to leave most of our stuff in camp, so it didn’t get soaked.
In the early afternoon, Viv, Dad, and I loaded up and headed to a different ground blind that my dad had made. He told us that the one we were headed to was his absolute favorite.
We got out of the truck and started to gather the equipment we had brought. Luckily for us, it stopped raining and the sky turned blue. Unluckily, Dad had forgotten the cocking device for my crossbow. We didn’t have time to go all the way back to camp, so he made a new one out of the stuff in the bed of his truck. While he was doing that, elk started bugling all around us. It was go time.
As we got closer to our blind, we noticed that many of the bugles we were hearing were coming from the wallow that was just below our blind. We snuck in as quietly as little mice. Dad wasn’t sure it would be possible, but we made it to the blind without scaring off all the elk. Once we got in the blind, we set up my tripod and put my crossbow on it. Dad told me to aim the crossbow at the trail camera on the other side of the wallow, so I did. Then dad started bugling. In our scramble to get to the blind in the rain, he had left his cow call in camp with all of our stuff.
Bulls were screaming in every direction. Sometimes, it was so close that it gave me the chills. Eventually, a bull we called “Freakboy” came out right below us. He was a 5-point on one side and had a club for an antler on the other side. My dad said, “Lilly, there’s Freakboy. Do you want to shoot him?” He was 27 yards away. I told Dad, “No, thank you. He’s not a 6x6. I think I’ll pass.” I let him walk away.
As it was getting dark, a new bull started screaming in the meadow on the other side of the wallow. We bugled at him, but he would not come in. Dad decided that it was best to just sit and wait to see if he would come in on his own. It started to get pretty dark, so I told Dad that I thought he should bugle one more time. Dad let out a bugle and it must have made that bull really mad. He came charging in. The bull crossed the ditch on the other side of the wallow. Dad said, “Lilly, get ready. He’s coming!” The bull came into the wallow and stopped right in front of the trail cam. Dad said, “Go ahead and take him,” but I was so excited I couldn’t hear anything. It was my job to take the safety off my crossbow, but I forgot. Dad reached over, and I felt the safety click forward. I said, “Can I shoot?” Dad said, “Yes, Lilly. Shoot him!”
I barely had to move the crosshairs at all. I put them right where Dad told me and pulled the trigger. The shot was perfect! The bull only took four steps. He laid down, but his head was still up. Dad had brought the makeshift cocker with him. He cocked the crossbow again and put it on the tripod. We talked about where to shoot an elk that was laying down, and I slipped another bolt through his vitals. The bull ran back up into the meadow where he was originally. It was getting very dark. We didn’t want to bump him, so we decided to go back to camp and come back in the morning.
The next morning, we got up and went back to the second ground blind. There was a huge puddle of blood where the bull had laid down. We walked into the meadow, and my 8-year-old sister yelled, “Found him!” The bull had piled up no more than 60 yards from where I had shot him. We were all so happy.
It started to rain again, but not even the rain could darken our mood. We took pictures, and Grandpa Wayne started quartering the bull. As he would take a quarter off, my dad would pack it out to the Ranger. My sisters and I packed the backstraps and loins.
Some people think it’s crazy for an 11-year-old girl to try to shoot an elk with a bow. What happened last year proves that anything is possible. You just have to have the courage to try.
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