Finally need to finish up my little piece of this story.
The last night of hunting found Charlie, Smiley, and I back at our familiar spot. We had a hot spot nailed down, and were determined to ride it until the end.
Charlie took the northwest end of the road (I was pretty good with my sense of direction by now :rolleyes: ) and Smiley guarded the southeast, leaving me to roam the middle ground.
As was becoming the pattern here, action was slow to start with, but once it got rolling was hot and heavy. First was a group of hogs down Charlies way. They were filtering in my direction, and I eased that way to make the trip shorter for them.
Eventually they turned and headed off, and by then there were javis out down toward Smiley, so I headed back in that direction. And for the rest of the evening that is the way it went. Always getting close, but never getting quite close enough.
Just as dusk settled in Charlie and I made a pincher move on a group of javi's between us, but once again they filtered off before either of us could lose a shaft. Charlie walked the road toward me to rendezvous, and just then I noticed a new group out on the road behind me.
With daylight quickly fading, I double timed in their direction. As I got closer I was able to use paths through the brush to maneuver into position in front of them. The wind was good, and I found a thick prickly pear clump behind which to make my stand.
I could hardly believe my eyes when Blondie was leading the pack. Could it happen at the last minute? No sooneer had the thought registered in my brain than he turned and filtered into the brush in front of me. I watched as he passed through an opening at 20 yards, but it happened fast, and no shot was presented.
The rest of the group followed behind, and one of them ambled my way. It wasn't Blondie, but it would certainly do. As it stopped in an opening at 10 yards I brought the string to my cheek and the arrow was away. Right over his back! Dang!!!!!
And then I noticed yet another of the little stink pigs headed straight for me. At less than 8 feet I tried to move my bow, but when he caught the movement he bolted through the opening. And then he stopped and looked back at me - in exactly the same spot his buddy had vacated upon my miss just seconds ago!
The arrow was on its way before I could think about it. The hit appeared to be back further than I would like, but with the sharp quartering away angle I hoped it would do the job. Not being quite sure, I elected to mark my spot with toilet paper and back out. I didn't even walk up to where he stood.
We returned to camp and enjoyed one last huge meal with the rest of our camp mates. The last night of a hunt like this is always bittersweet. We were having the time of our lives, but in the back of our minds we knew it was nearing the end.
I rounded up a posse to help with the search for the javi, and armed with lights we spread out at the scene. Blood sign was nil, but scent in the air was strong. Very Strong! Following noses instead of blood spor, in a matter of minutes they had him. Although it had only been a couple of hours though, we weren't quite fast enough. Coyotes had already found him, and had a front quarter nearly eaten.
Put out by being chased off from his evening meal, the coyote yipped and barked from back in the brush. JC yipped right back at him and as the domanant predators of this night we claimed stake to the rest of it.
Back at camp as I skinned him out I found the rest of the meat to be clean and untainted, and it was quickly bagged and put on ice. How cool is that? To be able to literally share a meal with a true predator of the wild! I don't mind a bit!
Topic: Wensel Bros pig gig (Read 42554 times)
