I was almost one year into my bow hunting journey when I finally got the chance to shoot my first red deer with the bow. I’d had plenty of practice on goats, wallabies and the odd pig so I was feeling confident. We loaded up our old retired pig dogs Fern (12) and Sky (11) and everything we needed for a weekend away at our favourite hunting spot. We also threw in the trusty .223 to get a couple of handy dog tucker goats on the ground for the girls.
We arrived at the hut nice and early and set out for the day. The early sign was promising, seeing pig and deer tracks just across the river from the hut along with a recently shot goat. After a short while of walking up the side creek, we stumbled across our first deer, well it was actually three deer feeding up on a flat just above the creek bed. I knocked an arrow and started to slowly sneak in. As I was still pretty new to bow hunting I had Ben with me to help me range the target so I had one less thing to focus on in the lead up to the shot. With Ben right behind me, we were slowly creeping in, one baby step at a time when a fourth deer we hadn’t seen busted us, barking and letting the others know they weren’t alone. All eyes on us and we knew our stalk was over! Blast!
We laughed it off and begun walking up the creek knowing there were more good spots still to come. We were getting close to an area where I had shot a few deer with the rifle in the past; so we slowed down and were surprised to see a mob of six deer feeding in what we called the ‘sheep paddock’ which never had sheep in, and really wasn’t much of a paddock at all! Again arrow on, and again, a sneaky seventh deer spots us as were crawling on our tummies to get in closer for a shot. With numbers this good we were beginning to realise finding deer wasn’t going to be the problem, getting close without getting spotted was going to prove a little more tricky.
We trekked on a bit further, got busted a few more times, alongside a brief side quest to shoot some goats that were too handy to pass up and finally, my chance presented itself.
We were feeling a little dejected after being busted yet again and Ben was leading the way out back to the hut, when low and behold out on ‘sheep paddock’ was a hind, and better still she was on her own! After a couple of panicked psssts, psssts and an oi, Ben stopped and straight away understood why I was desperately trying to get his attention.
Arrow on.
Very slowly we stalked our way in with our heads on a swivel just in case any extra eyes were to spot us. We inched closer and closer, finally getting into 37 yards. Back then this was getting close to my upper limit for distance when shooting animals (I was very confident shooting targets out much further) but had shot goats in the low 40s before and knew I just had to back myself. When the slight quartering away shot presented itself I felt ready and let my arrow rip, hitting her right where I was aiming! Phew! She took off downhill on a dead run and Ben having seen the shot placement said “watch her, watch her!” during this time I had knocked a second arrow that wasn’t needed, because she was down 30 meters away amongst some scrub. After a couple of high fives and some photos for the ‘gram’ we boned her out and restarted our walk back towards the hut.
The rest of the walk out was uneventful, likely due to the amount of excited chat that was going on between us. We arrived back to the truck and spotted some handy goats while Fern and Sky were mucking around in the creek. Ben knocked them over with the .223 and set off to go process them for dog tucker while I put the girls away and started unloading our gear for the evening. During this process Fern started whining in the dog box, they knew to be quiet in the box, but our Ferny often liked to test the rules just in case we’d changed our minds. A quick “come on Fern you’ve been off all day” confirmed to her that nope, dog boxes are still for quiet time; It wasn’t until Sky our little ‘goodie two shoes’ started pawing at the gate that I knew something was up. A second later I hear a rock topple behind me and I instantly catch on to what the girls were trying to tell me. The boar who left his mark in the creek was behind me and heading for the dead goat on the other side.
At this point I had already made the rifle safe and it had been put away, so I slowly slinked my way along the truck to retrieve the rifle, mag, and bolt and waited for the boar to make his way to the goat. Once he was tucking in, I quickly snuck over and got myself ready. At this stage Ben was still safely at his goats watching it all unfold. I placed my cross hairs between the boars ears, took a breath and slowly squeezed the trigger.
Bang!
The pig dropped on the spot and rolled down the hill. Thinking I’d nailed it, I made the gun safe but when I stood up, so did the boar! Sensing my girls deserved some action, I raced over to the truck to let them go, and all three of us tore off into the creek. Ben hit the water at the same time and the girls started what was going to be a steady bail. When Fern realised the cavalry (Ben) had arrived she launched in for a hold. It was at this point to all of our surprises the pig fell over. He must have been dead on his feet! And I tell you if a dog’s looks mean anything, I was in deep trouble for cutting short Fern’s fun by shooting the boar first!
Thankfully, Fern forgave me quickly and posed for some photos before I committed to the short carry back to the hut. This was my first boar with the rifle and the perfect bonus to a ripper of a day.
Sadly, we had to put our Fern down in March of this year at the ripe old age of 16 having lived out her retirement licking pots and being spoilt.
RIP Ferny girl, we hope you’re up there slaying the big boars x
