Nic Barca
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- May 19, 2006
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I have not been hunting much lately but have been getting my itch back again. So I ordered new arrows, cut them short and after procrastinating, epoxied in some inserts the day I was to hunt. After some target practice shooting all over the place, I finally pulled together a dangerously close group at 20 yards. Time to hunt!
My friend Bass had invited me to hunt a farm he lives on. Bass had been telling me stories of these pigs and he though he had them pegged; They had been staying in a small forest for some time now. We drove the Kubota down the paved roads of the gentlemen's estates. Bass pointed and said they had been over here and we suddenly noticed two pigs feeding near a wooden pasture fence. They turned and ran into the tangle of hau bush (pronounced "how") as we drove past for another hundred yards. I made a bet that they would be back to that same place really soon- it was something I had learned about pigs while doing tracking collar studies at work. A minute later, they were back at that exact same spot and we hurried to set up and get off the open road. Three more came out of the bushes and together, the herd worked in our direction. They were all feeding on the other side of a wooden fence that ran parallel to the road. There was a 20 foot corridor between the fence and bushes. The pigs were slowly working down the alley.
Bass crept slowly to get in front of them. I followed and we set up behind a large Albizia tree, my friend on one side and me on the other as we waited for the pigs to come around a corner. Ten minutes passed and we began second guessing whether they were really coming or not. The wind was good but they could have easily crossed the road into pastures without us knowing. Bass went to investigate but only made it a few feet before he saw a pig rounding the corner.
A chicken with them spotted Bass peering out from behind the tree. By luck, it retreated silently without alerting the pigs. They weren't nearly as big as we were expecting. Four of them were only about 40 pounds each and the biggest was perhaps seventy at best. All were black, one looked skinny, and another looked fat & healthy with a shiny coat. The biggest looked like it was in good condition. We waited as they fed closer and closer. The biggest pig was working to Bass's side but soon swung and came to my side. At just ten yards, I drew but she turned my direction and seemed to sense something was up. After a few moments, I drifted slowly back behind the tree and undrew. She went back to feeding. I drew again as she gave a broadside shot. “This will be easy,” I though to myself. The pin settled at the back edge of the should and the arrow flew making a perfect pass through. I remember seeing the three-way cut of the Brodhead before the pig dashed into the nearby forest. It wasn't the best shot but I was confident that I got the liver and maybe part of a lung. Bass shot at another of the pigs. By his account, his string hit his forearm and caused him to miss. I only heard it.
That was pretty much the end of my hunt. I waited at that spot until it got dark and Bass went after pigs unsuccessfully for the rest of the afternoon though he did have some close calls with bigger pigs.
Darkness fell. My LED light was having bad connection problems compounded by low batteries, so I used my cell phone for added light. Earlier, I had followed up the shot and found my arrow covered in dark blood and fermenting stomach contents. There was a great blood trail starting instantly where the pig had stood. Besides the low light, the trail was easy to follow and 20 yards in, after crawling under and on top of hau bush logs, I found my pig, a young boar. A piece of fat hung out the exit wound. The autopsy showed that the arrow had grazed a lung, grazed the liver, passed through the paunch and nailed the spleen. Spleen shot! What luck. He didn’t go far.
Nic
My friend Bass had invited me to hunt a farm he lives on. Bass had been telling me stories of these pigs and he though he had them pegged; They had been staying in a small forest for some time now. We drove the Kubota down the paved roads of the gentlemen's estates. Bass pointed and said they had been over here and we suddenly noticed two pigs feeding near a wooden pasture fence. They turned and ran into the tangle of hau bush (pronounced "how") as we drove past for another hundred yards. I made a bet that they would be back to that same place really soon- it was something I had learned about pigs while doing tracking collar studies at work. A minute later, they were back at that exact same spot and we hurried to set up and get off the open road. Three more came out of the bushes and together, the herd worked in our direction. They were all feeding on the other side of a wooden fence that ran parallel to the road. There was a 20 foot corridor between the fence and bushes. The pigs were slowly working down the alley.
Bass crept slowly to get in front of them. I followed and we set up behind a large Albizia tree, my friend on one side and me on the other as we waited for the pigs to come around a corner. Ten minutes passed and we began second guessing whether they were really coming or not. The wind was good but they could have easily crossed the road into pastures without us knowing. Bass went to investigate but only made it a few feet before he saw a pig rounding the corner.
A chicken with them spotted Bass peering out from behind the tree. By luck, it retreated silently without alerting the pigs. They weren't nearly as big as we were expecting. Four of them were only about 40 pounds each and the biggest was perhaps seventy at best. All were black, one looked skinny, and another looked fat & healthy with a shiny coat. The biggest looked like it was in good condition. We waited as they fed closer and closer. The biggest pig was working to Bass's side but soon swung and came to my side. At just ten yards, I drew but she turned my direction and seemed to sense something was up. After a few moments, I drifted slowly back behind the tree and undrew. She went back to feeding. I drew again as she gave a broadside shot. “This will be easy,” I though to myself. The pin settled at the back edge of the should and the arrow flew making a perfect pass through. I remember seeing the three-way cut of the Brodhead before the pig dashed into the nearby forest. It wasn't the best shot but I was confident that I got the liver and maybe part of a lung. Bass shot at another of the pigs. By his account, his string hit his forearm and caused him to miss. I only heard it.
That was pretty much the end of my hunt. I waited at that spot until it got dark and Bass went after pigs unsuccessfully for the rest of the afternoon though he did have some close calls with bigger pigs.
Darkness fell. My LED light was having bad connection problems compounded by low batteries, so I used my cell phone for added light. Earlier, I had followed up the shot and found my arrow covered in dark blood and fermenting stomach contents. There was a great blood trail starting instantly where the pig had stood. Besides the low light, the trail was easy to follow and 20 yards in, after crawling under and on top of hau bush logs, I found my pig, a young boar. A piece of fat hung out the exit wound. The autopsy showed that the arrow had grazed a lung, grazed the liver, passed through the paunch and nailed the spleen. Spleen shot! What luck. He didn’t go far.
Nic
