Day 1This would be another day of exploration of the area and preparing our plan of attack. The three of us jump out at the far north end of the main road in the Macon pasture and proceed into the bush on foot. With a south wind Ben and I headed east while Kevin heads west.
Right off Ben and I see evidence of pigs. 40 yards off the road we find a good size old dried up wallow that lay at the base of the dam of a dried up pond. We continue heading east on a well worn beaten down game trail. Scat litters the trail and thin thread like trails connect into this main artery. Up ahead to the north reveals why this is such a hot spot…a corn feeder. The feeder sits outside the fence line on what appears to be public land running next to the road. Further investigation reveals no corn on the ground and none on head of the feeder. The scat on the trail is also, although shiny, rock hard and dry. This may have been a hot spot at one time but it has been void of action for quite a while.
We preceded east walking slowly, glassing distant patches of prickly pear, shady areas and any place that we thought would appeal to a pig. But our outing revealed zero pigs. There was plenty of evidence that pigs had been in the area but the majority of the sign was old. Ben did find a well use rub so I had him pose near it. Doesn’t he look happy?
We arrive back at the truck a few hours later to find Kevin shooting at prickly pears. We had taken walkie talkies and prearranged to contact each other at 12:30 but my seven mile range walkie talkies only seem to work as Ben said when we could see each other.
Time to check the corned roads, set out game cameras and make plans for the evening hunt. The main road didn’t show much sign in the way of pig action but a couple of the side roads had fresh pig tracks on them and the corn had been vacuumed up. Since the area was so dry we figured our best chance for action on the cameras would be the watering holes. One camera was set on the northeast side of the Fish Camp pond. This pond at one time, and it will be again when they get rain, must have been a large a fairly deep pond but now it is a mere skeleton of what the waterline shows it could be. The northeast end of the pond had an old wallow so this is where we positioned the camera and poured out the corn.
The other watering hole was west of the Fish Camp by about .125 of a mile, if that far. We started calling this the Molasses Pond because the rancher had filled up a molasses tank and molasses was leaking out of the tank and running down a hill.
This too was at one time a decent size pond but at this time it was a mere shadow of its self. The Molasses Pond had fairly fresh wallow signs and lots of old wallow signs. On the north and there was a beaten down well worn groove in the ground that the hogs had been using. So we setup the camera on the north end and laid out two corn lines leading to our corn pile that lay in front of the camera. The north end along the edge of the brush is where I wanted to be when the sun ended its workday on our side of the world, but for now we would only setup our reconnaissance device and head back to camp for lunch.
Around 5:30 I found myself back at the north end of the Molasses Pond trying to pick out the best spot to ambush a pig. Never having done this kind of hunting before I wasn’t sure of the best way to get the upper hand on these beasts. I milled about for a few minutes walking into the bush about 5 yards looking for a good place to put my back against without getting too close to the trail I thought the pigs might be using. Of course I knew I needed the wind in my face. So with the north northeast wind I was limited to the west / southwest side of the trail. I eventually settled on a spot where the ground was a little higher then the pig trail and the spot held a shallow depression where I placed my three legged chair. This spot put me 17 yards west of the pig trail that was cutout in the ground in front of me. This spot provide plenty of cover. To the north of me was a mesquite tree, to northeast some other kind of thorny bush and behind me a large tall patch of prickly pear. Sounds cozy doesn’t it? Time to settle in and prepare myself for some pig action, the time now was about 5:40.
I set up my stool, slip out of my pack and had plans of putting on my Gillie suit but before I make too much movement I think to myself “you should look around to make sure nothing is coming.” I look to the northeast and…. A holy smokes….there’s a pig standing at the edge of the thick brush on the trail I was just standing on a few minutes ago! The pig is twenty yards away at best. I was told “don’t worry you will hear the pigs coming long before you see them.” Ha…I laugh at that! My bow is leaning against a tree, within reach thank goodness, but without an arrow nocked. To say I was rattled is an under statement! I slowly slid my hand over and picked up the bow and ease an arrow from the quiver and at the same time the pigs are on the move. Coming from the Mid West I use to seeing un-startled deer move slowly along as they move from bedding area to their food or water source but these little twerps move like ants. They point their little torpedo bodies in the direction they want to go and get with. There are eight in this sounder. Two are gray and black and the rest are black. All the pigs appear to be in the 80lb to 120lb range. They all move out of the bush and into the open and cluster around on a flat spot next to the trail. There is the thorny bush to my northeast between us and we are now separated by only 15 yards. My adrenaline peak meter was pegged my heart was about explode out of my chest and I still needed to get and arrow nocked!
I looked down and proceed to move slowly to get an arrow on the string while at the same time trying to watch the pigs and predict their next move. Then all of a sudden the largest gray and black pig, I named him The Joker because he had big black clown lip markings, lets out a growl! “That doesn’t sound good” I think to myself. When The Joker made this growl he pointed himself right at me and gave me a hard stare! At the same time all the other pigs started to jostle around as if they were about to take off but they weren’t sure which direction they should run. The stare down lasted for 10 or 15 seconds but seemed a lot longer. Then one of the black pigs started trotting down the trail. Show-time!
I watch as one by one the pigs fall into line and head down the trail. I point my vision to the lead pig and ready my bow. I start tracking the lead pig with my bow pull the string back, anchor and release… Thump is the sound I hear from my 56”, 55# Centaur longbow and I see the 650 gain 31.5” white fletched Carbon Express 250 arrow sail across the drainage on line with the lead pig’s vitals and in a flash the STOS tipped arrow smacks solidly into the bank behind the pig. Dang-it… I shot high! The arrow passed just an inch over the pigs shoulder. Crap…Crap…double CRAP! I practice at this range all the time what gives?
Meanwhile, the other pigs scatter some going east the rest head north but the lead pig, the one I shot at, went southwest. At this point my head is spinning trying to figure out what went wrong while at the same time trying to keep track of all the pigs.
I hold my position hoping the scattered pigs will regroup and come back. As I sit I replay the whole scenario in my head and then it hit me…”you idiot” I think to myself “you didn’t pick a spot!” Sad, sad, sad…
As I sit kicking myself I hear a grunt! What…the lead pig is still hanging around and it’s down wind of me. Peeking over the mound of prickly pear I see the black pig trotting to the south, out of range and moving further and further away I sit and contemplate my options. Having no experience hunting these animals I wasn’t sure what to do. Breaking away from my post would put me in the open and may give away my position while staying put may bring another shot. What to do… what to do.
The pig slips down to the east side of the pond and disappears from my line of site. I am torn at this point. The aggressive voice in my head is screaming “MOVE! Use the rocks and other features in the area to conceal your movement and close the distance on that pig! Get behind the large rocks that are about 70 yards out!” The conservative voice is telling me to “hold my position. The pig may return to the last spot it was with its sounder, besides I will be up wind if I start advancing on the pig.” I elected to try and beat the pig’s nose by staying put.
The pig fulfils its need for water and starts trotting north in my direction. Is this really going to work? I set patiently with an arrow nocked and my eyes glued to the pigs every move. The pig makes its way up to the northern edge of the pond’s water line and rummages around awhile and then turns east trotting towards and eventually by the very rock that my aggressive voice was telling to get behind. Rats! There it goes in to the brush and out of sight.
I remained in the same spot until dark hoping other pigs would scamper by but tonight wasn’t meant to be the night for me to make a kill. Making my way down to retrieve my arrow I again made the mistake of casually brushing against another one of Texas’s finest…ooooohhh that hurts…
Topic: Wensel Bros pig gig (Read 42522 times)
