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The aoudad ram was quickly increasing the distance between us, and as we were trying to get this hunt on camera, the stress of getting both the camera shot and rifle shot were increasing rapidly. Once I had the okay from the cameraman, the familiar trigger of my well-worn Model 70 broke like the icicle that it is, and the sound of the 180-grain Norma BondStrike striking flesh came back across the dry Texas air. Notoriously tough, I sent a second, striking within a couple inches of the first, on the point of the shoulder, and putting him down for good. Standing over a beautiful ram, I tapped the Winchester, adding one more great memory in a long line of hunting experiences.
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