Got a call from a neighbor up the mountain who told me that a pair of huge hogs, one with particularly nasty tusks, were holding him and his wife hostage. They would come onto his property at sunset and hang around his livestock feeding trough until after sunrise. They were aggressive and the one big boar's dental work could tear a man's leg to shreds in a flash.
"Help!!" they begged.
I gave up depredation work because it's too messy and it is only a very short-term solution to a very long-term problem. But these were friends, so...
Asked the wife if she'd like to tag along. We drove up and walked down into his livestock area 15 minutes before sunset. They have 3 adopted wild donkeys that are still skittish, so the donkeys followed us at a distance as we walked the property, checking the lay of the land. We settled back in the bushes 60 feet from the trough and waited. The donkeys stood on a path, the same path the pigs would probably use, and watched us from 30 feet away.
I didn't want to hassle with gutting a boar and hauling away the carcass so I had a bludgeon point on the crossbow arrow. We waited. Suddenly, all three donkeys turned to look down the path and their ears all went up and focused in that direction. Within 10 seconds my wife nudged me and pointed through the brush.
They were huge hogs, one a monster. They spotted me immediately from about 12 feet and stared. We didn't move. They started walking again and I raised the crossbow and centered the red dot on the ham of the boar. "Whaaackk!!!"
The boar wheeled toward us and then wheeled away and ran, crashing through the dense brush. The arrow was imbedded a couple inches in his ham. He made more noise than a stripe-assed ape and began tearing the brush apart.
I looked at my wife with a straight face, picked up a stick, and said, "Here, you take this stick and follow the boar. Bang the stick against the trees and rocks as you walk through the brush and I'll be waiting on the other side."
She didn't think I was very funny.
I waited 5 minutes and then followed him, this time with a broadhead. I got 50 feet and the brush exploded and the pig went nuts, tearing this way and that and ripping everything in his path. My wife and I watched this for a couple of minutes and then the boar streaked across the path and disappeared into the forest.
The neighbors didn't call me back, so I assume the boar is gone. I'm not too sure about those bludgeon tips now. A super powerful crossbow at a range of 12 feet doesn't seem to be the ideal situation for a bludgeon tip, now that I think about it.
Oh, well. The boar is alive and running around with a sore ass. He's one lucky pig.
Just another day in the life of a hunter on the Big Island.
Aloha for now.
"Help!!" they begged.
I gave up depredation work because it's too messy and it is only a very short-term solution to a very long-term problem. But these were friends, so...
Asked the wife if she'd like to tag along. We drove up and walked down into his livestock area 15 minutes before sunset. They have 3 adopted wild donkeys that are still skittish, so the donkeys followed us at a distance as we walked the property, checking the lay of the land. We settled back in the bushes 60 feet from the trough and waited. The donkeys stood on a path, the same path the pigs would probably use, and watched us from 30 feet away.
I didn't want to hassle with gutting a boar and hauling away the carcass so I had a bludgeon point on the crossbow arrow. We waited. Suddenly, all three donkeys turned to look down the path and their ears all went up and focused in that direction. Within 10 seconds my wife nudged me and pointed through the brush.
They were huge hogs, one a monster. They spotted me immediately from about 12 feet and stared. We didn't move. They started walking again and I raised the crossbow and centered the red dot on the ham of the boar. "Whaaackk!!!"
The boar wheeled toward us and then wheeled away and ran, crashing through the dense brush. The arrow was imbedded a couple inches in his ham. He made more noise than a stripe-assed ape and began tearing the brush apart.
I looked at my wife with a straight face, picked up a stick, and said, "Here, you take this stick and follow the boar. Bang the stick against the trees and rocks as you walk through the brush and I'll be waiting on the other side."
She didn't think I was very funny.
I waited 5 minutes and then followed him, this time with a broadhead. I got 50 feet and the brush exploded and the pig went nuts, tearing this way and that and ripping everything in his path. My wife and I watched this for a couple of minutes and then the boar streaked across the path and disappeared into the forest.
The neighbors didn't call me back, so I assume the boar is gone. I'm not too sure about those bludgeon tips now. A super powerful crossbow at a range of 12 feet doesn't seem to be the ideal situation for a bludgeon tip, now that I think about it.
Oh, well. The boar is alive and running around with a sore ass. He's one lucky pig.
Just another day in the life of a hunter on the Big Island.
Aloha for now.
