All work and no play make’s Jack a dull boy!
After zipping up to Gladstone for the Australian Longbow and Recurve Muster and putting some splinters in their 3D targets I headed back home the 700km and threw out the field points and threw in the broadheads, some meat, two other bows and headed west for 4 days. Now don’t get me wrong but putting arrows in targets sure is fun with great mates but it’s just not hunting!! I was heading west 450km to a new property I have just acquired by accident to meet the landowner again for the second time. Belting along the bitumen all I could think about was the previous recon mission to inspect the property and remembering how I had minimal expectations of what the property held in the way of game and then complete surprise once there.
The landowner doesn’t let hunters in at all and he is planning on keeping his own stash of goats for vegetation management on his property much to his neighbour’s disgust as they constantly muster and sell the goats off. Now this doesn’t mean he has them well fenced in at all as the boundary fences are stranded plain wire and some derelict vermin proof mesh with plenty of pop holes but the goats obviously feel safe in there and have plenty of food and watering points. From the previous recon mission I had worked out the lay of the land and watering points with the help of my GPS and Google Earth (how great is that tool for us hunters). The property held quite a large number of goats and some good trophy Billies which is what I’m interested in. This trip I was going it alone as I have shot my fair share of boars with the traditional gear in NW QLD, NT and the Gulf Country but have never hunted goats!! I thought I needed to just poke along get in close to the game watch and learn their little habits, take some photo’s and just take in the smells and sounds of the bush.
Hitting the red dirt road for the last 65km to the homestead my eyes immediately started scanning left and right with my Steiner bino’s by my side hoping to see splashes of white and black against the red landscape. The constant dodging of Roo’s and Emu’s was the better option as I know who would win against the five post steel bull bar on the Nissan. Finally at the homestead and Lynden informs me that they had 2 inches of rain last week and other parts 5 inches dramatically changing the previously brown grass landscape to now green. Back in the ute again and off to my hunting are another 17 km away in the northern boundary block.
Now I was on high alert bino’s ready but from what I remembered of the last trip goats to the left and right with a good mob running straight down the middle of the track but not his time. Not a sighting of a goat and after stopping at one of the watering points hardly a fresh track on the now dimpled ground after the rain. My mind ran wild what’s happened surely they haven’t taken off and surcome to the neighbours plans. Pulling up at my campsite at now midday in an area secluded from the cattle is a great spot to roll out my swag just near a clean trough with good water for a tub and not 100 metres away two dams in which goats come to water.
Right camp set up, camo on, recurve in hand, arrows sharp it’s into the ute again to check another watering point only 2 km away as the crow flies from camp. But it’s round the fencline we go as the Mulga loves tyres and this will give me an opportunity to inspect the pulled area for feeding goats on the way. Stopping every now to jump up on the back and glass the area looking at the small spread out mobs feeding slowly through the Mulga in the next paddock Thank God there are some still here I thought. Continuing on to my destination with roo’s bounding through the area everywhere I pulled up well short of Little Goat Trough (named after last trip as I pulled out of the water a new born kid alive from the trough), grabbed my gear and headed off to check out the area around the trough hoping to see a big old stinker coming in for a drink. Stopping listening, stopping listening nothing dead quite then a small bleat over to the right yep couple of nannies and kids just leaving the trough. Right do a lap out wider winds good no worries.
On this trip I decided to take along my large SLR camera to get some photos of the goats doing their thing and as I reached the edge of where the pulled country ended to my right were the nannies going to feed across in front of me. I thought to myself I will take refuge besides that gum tree and get some snaps of them as I had nothing better to do. Bows on the ground and lining up the camera on the nannies waiting for that special photo opportunity something caught my left ear, a stick rattling as I slowly turned my attention left Holy Crap two decent black billies coming directly at me, one at 30 metres and the other 20 metres behind him. The one in the lead had a good set of horns and with them still coming there was no time to think, wrong side of the tree in plain view of them with no cover I slowly gripped the handle of my 65# Chekmate recurve and dragged an arrow from the bow quiver and nocked it. As I was already crouched low I slowly raised my bow and prepared myself. By this time he was only 10 metres away and I could see in his eyes he was in another world just heading to water as he does every other time with his new found buddy following behind. Now at 5 metres he turns to follow the pad through the pulled timber and as his head disappears behind a stump I drew back and soon as he popped out the other side it was all over, the 700grn Vic Ash arrow tipped with a 160grn ribbie smashed through his shoulder knocking him clean off his feet sideways. He did not move another step from his death bed and as he let out his last yell his mate looked on thinking what is he doing? Another heavy arrow now nocked and with his buddy now broadside at around 28 metres the bow bent once more allowing a perfect view of the arrow pass through his ribs. He made a mad dash into the timber but was down within 100 metres and I had secured my second billy of the trip.
As I sat there and replayed what had just happened I couldn’t believe how luck was on my side and I had two nice billies within an hour of picking up the bow. After the photos and the removal of the horns I headed back to the ute pleased with myself, cracked a couple of cold ones from the fridge and sat there in the quite thinking how enjoyable bowhunting is. Back to camp I thought light the fire and gather some good old Mulga logs to keep me warm through the evening as now winter is upon us and it’s a touch cool. As I approached camp the headlights flashed across my swag and eyes lit up with a mad dash of a fox sniffing around my camp. Last trip we had one just turn up to camp whilst sitting around the fire. However what I think he was really doing this time was talking to Swiper my fox target that came along for the ride for company.
With tea cooked and sitting down to watch the glowing red warm embers whilst sipping away on a nice port I slowly unwound my thoughts of any work commitments and off to bed.
Awake early lying in bed awaiting the first glimpse of light I wondered what the day was going to hold as today I had planned to ditch the recurve and take up the 64# Custom stick longbow, this bow I had taken many a good old boar but never a billy and I hadn’t shot it for 5 years. Whilst preparing breakfast a few goats bleated away as they edged up over the dam bank 100 metres away for a brief drink, a quick look through the bino’s revealed only nannies and one small billy not worth worrying about.
Winter Camo on which consists of my Yakka shorts and short sleeve shirt with my favourite hunting boots a pair of Dunlop Volleys with one cable tie for laces (did I mention it was a bit cold)
Grabbed the old faithful longbow and threw a few arrows into Swiper the Fox yep just like old times let’s go. Around the fenceline again we go arriving just short of Little Goat Trough, and after observing and photographing two small billies coming into water.
Too be Continued.
Topic: An Aussie Hunting Story Part 1 (Read 206 times)
