A Story - "Hunting the Oven"

[Benny Nganabbarru]

G'day All!

I've a story to follow about a hunting trip we went on at the start of this year. I'd like to dedicate it to an Alaskan Tradganger named Don (TradAlaska) from whom I purchased a bow last year, as sadly he is quite ill. I'm honoured to be able to give his bow a good home, and to keep it in the bush taking game.

I hope you enjoy this yarn!

[Benny Nganabbarru]

Introduction
After three days of travelling, three keen bowhunters from Katherine, Northern Territory, had arrived at a vast sheep station in the Gascoyne Region of Western Australia. With the temperatures reaching 45 degrees Celsius each day, it was our hope to shoot some of the feral goats that make their way down from the ranges to the scattered water holes along the river during the summer months. We knew January was a miserable and even dangerous time of the year to venture into this part of the country; but the shot opportunities would be abundant, as opposed to none during the cooler months. After meeting the station manager at the homestead, we made our way along the tracks to the river, a wide and sandy expanse.

 

We set up our camp in the shade of some immense river-gums growing on the edge. Stringing our bows, and filling our water bottles, we set off to examine the nearby puddles for sign, and to see if there were any goats around. I soon lost my motivation, feeling weak and nauseous. I sat down in some shade for awhile, before trudging back to camp.

 

The heat really got me, and although I tried my best to stay hydrated throughout the afternoon, drinking cordial mixed with water, it was all I could do to keep in the shifting shade as I lay on my swag nursing a fragile stomach and a thumping headache. Finally, with the onset of evening, the day lost its bite, and it became pleasantly warm instead of intolerably hot. Taking a few more sips of a lukewarm drink, I suddenly had to make a run for it, collapsing on all-fours onto the sand of the riverbed just as most of the fluid I’d taken-in that afternoon abandoned me. “Déjà-bloody-vu,” I thought to myself. The first day of a summer-time Western Australian hunt had affected me in this manner twice before. It’s a bad habit the body seems to get into after being whacked by the sun – one bout of minor heatstroke does not make one stronger, but keeps coming back to haunt one. Despite the horrible aftertaste, I instantly felt much better.

[Benny Nganabbarru]

The Boys and Their Bows
I think it’s worthwhile to discuss our various weapons of choice at this point. I had brought two bows with me – a 66” Howard Hill Redman longbow, 70lbs at 29”, launching 850 grain laminated birch arrows tipped with the big Ribtek broadheads; and a 62” Black Widow SAIII recurve, 68lbs at 28”, launching 620 grain carbon arrows tipped with Snuffer broadheads. Ever since reading Howard Hill’s books and watching his films, I’ve felt an immense desire to experience, even in a small way, his type of archery equipment. I’d bought the Redman a year-and-a-half before, and though I’d done much practice, my hunting experience with this bow amounted to many miles walked but just one missed boar (not counting cane toads). This bow needed to be christened. Also, I wanted to take some game with wooden arrows, something I’d not done before. The SAIII was a much newer addition to my collection, as I’d purchased it second-hand a few months before from a gentleman in Juneau, Alaska, named Don Collinsworth. After using this bow for nearly ten years (much longer than I’ve been into bowhunting), he needed to reduce his draw-weight slightly. The bow was advertised in the classifieds sections of several traditional bowhunting websites for months, and when I inquired about it, and discovered that it has an amazing story to tell of hunting across Africa and North America, I thought I’d be honoured to give it a good home. When I look at this bow, and imagine the zebra, wildebeest, kudu, gemsbok, warthog, impala, black bear, moose, caribou and various other game animals that Don took with it, I am inspired. I want to add some Australian feral game animals to this list. Matt Wright, an apprentice carpenter, had borrowed one of my Black Widow longbows after our camel hunt the previous January. After only two weeks of practice with it, while his compound bow gathered dust, he waded across the river behind his house in Katherine and shot a monster of a boar, as well as a sow, on one wet Sunday morning. The traditional bug had begun to bite him, and later that year he sold his compound to finance his own Black Widow longbow, which had arrived just in time for this goat hunt. It was a 66” PLX “Zebrawood”, 70lbs at 29”. He was launching 820 grain carbon arrows tipped with Ribtek broadheads. So this, his first longbow, needed christening too! Tony Jensen, a lecturer at the Rural College, is an avid compound bowhunter. Naturally, he was going to bring his compound bow on this goat hunting trip. But something strange and unpredicted happened a few months prior to our leaving: he purchased a new high-tech Hoyt hunting recurve. He practiced diligently, but for confidence and accuracy he continued to use a single fibre-optic sight and a release-aid. Although he took both bows with him, he only once took the compound bow out for a walk, shot one good billy goat with it, and packed it away again. For most of the hunt, he used his recurve, taking his first animals with a traditional bow.

 

Although he used the sight and release-aid, as well as the mechanical arrow rest, for the first half of the hunt, another strange thing happened one evening during our practice session into the riverbank. He took his sight off, stole a finger tab from me, and rigged-up a shelf rest made of soft rubber and felt! And, after intensive practice and patient hunting, he nailed a really good billy goat shooting his recurve barebow! He was launching 550 grain carbon arrows tipped with Muzzy Phantom broadheads. In Australia, we pride ourselves on our easy-going attitude toward the equipment choices that fellow bowhunters make; although I personally like my longbows and recurves, I’m more than happy to spend time with friends who like using the high-tech gear. So these changes in equipment for Matt and Tony weren’t brought about by preaching, ranting or raving; just watching these simple, fun and deadly bows in action can be enough to make somebody want to try it out. Yes Sir, longbows and recurves seem to be contagious!

 

[Benny Nganabbarru]

First Kill with the Hill
Despite worrying that I’d be too crook to hunt, with pessimistic visions of my requiring the services of the Royal Flying Doctor, the next morning I was pleased to awaken as fit as a fiddle! After breakfast we went to wait in various ambush positions along the riverbank near the puddles. It is only as the day heats-up that the animals start to arrive. From my vantage point, I was able to watch a pair of red kangaroos carefully approach the water; however, they didn’t drink from the water, as it was perhaps too spoilt by the goats. Instead, they began to dig a few yards away from the puddle, until all that was visible were rear-ends and long tails! Soon after this, Matt walked back to camp to get some insect repellent to put on his feet, as the ants were bothering him. This spooked these two ‘roos, one of which hopped right up to me, stopping just a yard away. He studied the funny-looking something that remained motionless in the shade of the eucalypt, and then turned around to bounce casually away. I was also able to watch a foot-long lizard try to climb one of the smooth-barked gum trees in a hurry, as he was being harassed by a butcher bird – all four of his legs were revolving at 100 miles-per-hour as he desperately sought to gain purchase; happily for him, he made it to safety. Soon a small mob of the station’s sheep arrived, and the big merino rams passed quite close to me without paying much attention. A little more time elapsed, and suddenly my heart-rate quickened as I heard the faint bleating of a kid goat off in the distance, and I knew the festivities would soon begin! The first to arrive was that same noisy kid. He just stood atop the cliff, bleating noisily for no good reason. He couldn’t see me, but I could see him by peeking around the tree trunk as I waited for the larger members of his family to come down the steep bank. But nothing came down, and he just kept making his awful racket! I stopped watching him for some time, content to look in another direction. Then, when I finally took another peek at this noisy blighter, I saw that some goats had snuck down, and were on the bank at my level. One nice young billy was asleep. I took my boots and socks off, as well as my back quiver – for what I had in mind, the back quiver would get in the way, so I had to make my one arrow count. I pushed the longbow and arrow down the bank ahead of me, and slid over like a crocodile, concealed from the goats by some small green reeds. When I arrived at the water’s edge, still on my belly, I looked up to see some kids and nannies already drinking. They took no notice of me as I inched toward them and the tree that I’d marked to pop-up next to in order to shoot the young billy that was still snoozing there. It was only about fifteen yards to my shooting position, and as I eased-up, the kids in whose view I was plainly visible started panicking and scrambling away. The shot was going to be difficult, as I was looking into the bright sunlight, and the billy was still concealed by the reeds. Finally he sensed that something was happening and stood, allowing me to send an arrow through him! He only made thirty yards before going down, and I put another arrow in just to make sure he stayed that way (having run back to get my boots and quiver); and that was how I killed my first game animal with a Howard Hill longbow and a wooden arrow!

 

I continued sneaking up the river to try to find Tony to share my success and to take photos. But just after finding him and waving to him, I noticed an even nicer billy on top of the cliff as I peeked over. Ducking down, I closed the distance between us, and again eased up until I could see his body, and loosed an arrow which hit a whisker high, dropping him on the spot. I hurried over to finish him, and then caught-up with Tony to see how he’d done.

 

Unfortunately, he’d been crouching hidden in a ravine when a nanny goat peered over the edge, eyed him, and sneezed out her warning, showering him with snot before scooting away! After taking photos, it was time to head for camp. On our way back, we spied Matt way ahead, concealed in the shade of a spindly tree out in the harsh terrain near a natural funnel. There was a mob between him and us, and as we appeared, they took flight, passing alongside Matt, who sent an arrow through the largest billy. Unsure of the hit, he opted to give it some time before doing a follow-up, and was greatly relieved to find his first goat, his first kill with his own longbow, good-and-dead later on.

 

[Danny Rowan]

Great story and hunt Ben. Looks like fun.Are the goats there good on the barbque? I love good barbqued goat.

Danny

[Benny Nganabbarru]

Thanks, Danny - more to come. Young goats are very nice, although we get a bit fussy and don't eat the big billies. The station folk make a great smoked sausage of goat mixed with sheep.

[Benny Nganabbarru]

On for Young and Old!
Early one morning, Matt and I drove and then hiked into some newly-discovered puddles, which had an amazing amount of goat sign. This time, I had my newly-acquired recurve. We each took an end of the chain of puddles, and waited patiently. As the day warmed-up, the goats arrived. After photographing the scenery and a few nannies, a goat which I thought would do nicely as an introduction appeared nice-and-close. I let-fly, and the Snuffer blew through this large nanny and buried into the sand. She made only a short distance before expiring.

 

As it was still relatively quiet, I went over to see how Matt was going, and to get him to take a photograph. As we talked, a really impressive billy goat arrived, and Matt commenced stalking to get into position above the drinking goats below the cliff. A few nannies behind caught sight of Matt and blew the alarm, causing the drinking billy to start moving away from the puddle and up towards the bank. By this time, Matt was in position and ready for him, and one of his heavy arrows dropped this tremendous goat on the spot. We were proverbially over the moon to have such a goat on the ground before us!

 

I then changed my position while Matt began removing the horns from the rip-snorter of a goat he’d shot. Soon, a large-horned billy arrived and began to drink at the same spot that Matt’s goat had. I crept up onto the cliff above, remaining out of sight. However, before I could move over to the edge, I was interrupted by a nanny running toward me with a lewd, crude, and rude billy hot in pursuit, his tongue hanging out, with slobber flying, and making all sorts of disgusting noises! I crouched down, still in plain view, and yet they took no notice of me. As he ran past, maybe a dozen yards away, I shot. This arrow was poorly sent, and hit the meat on his back, causing a superficial wound which he took no notice of. Then, nocking a second arrow, I took another far more appropriate shot, which took effect immediately, the amorous billy goat losing his vitality and going out like a light within seconds.

 

As he hit the deck, I switched my focus back to my original target, and jogged over to the edge just as the billy was moving away from the water. Then, I made what is probably my most spectacular shot to date – it was steeply downhill, at a range of twenty-five yards, on a walking billy; and the arrow hit tight behind the shoulder, blew straight through and buried in the sand. Immediately an enormous red blossom appeared, and I knew he was done like a dinner!

 

Then I looked around to see Matt staring intently at a nice white billy, with his longbow in hand. However, the billy was only presenting his rear-end to Matt, whereas he was broadside at twenty-five to me. Matt graciously signalled that I should have a go, which I did, and soon this goat was on the ground too.

 

All this had taken no more than a couple of minutes.

[Ray Hammond]

holy cow, Ben...what a hunt!!!!!!!!!! congratulations to you guys.

[Benny Nganabbarru]

Thanks, Ray! We had a quite a time!

The Last Dance
After shooting and photographing these goats, I felt guilty that Tony had missed the action, being back at the other set of puddles near camp. I opted to hike back to the Toyota to go and pick him up, as well as fetch some cool drinks from the esky, and to swap the recurve for the longbow – I still wanted to grass a mature billy with it before we left. So, I left Matt to continue his task. Back at the camp puddles, I soon found Tony. Although we hadn’t seen too many large goats in this location, Tony, with his livestock husbandry background, was confident that goats need only water every three days, especially the big ones. And sure enough, there was a mature billy dead on top of the cliff when I arrived. This was Tony’s first kill since starting to shoot a recurve barebow the day before, and it’s an accomplishment that he can be very proud of.

 

We finally got back to a very thirsty Matt who’d nearly finished fleshing the skull of his immense billy, and he happily guzzled down a refreshingly-cold raspberry lemonade while I set out to find one more respectable billy goat for my Hill longbow. In the open terrain, I was in plain sight of a multitude of goats, which began to move away. I knew I hadn’t a chance with these, but it was the goats I knew to be already resting in the river-gum shade at the base of the cliff that I was interested in. Stalking well back from the edge, I peeked over just enough to examine the horns, and soon picked out a pair worth an attempt. Although not totally spooked, these goats still had a bit of an idea that something was going on, as they could see many of the goats that could see me. So they had started drifting away by the time I was ready to take a shot. In my clumsiness, I hit a log instead, and the arrow buried in with a dull thud just inches off the ground, only to be snapped by a goat that was walking past – which served me right! Ducking out of sight again, I hurried ahead a few more paces, and moved once more into a position to have a crack at this billy. This time, the arrow hit him, and zipped right through.

 

Although hit too-far back, he’d been quartering away, and the arrow did two things – it sliced a major pipe and clipped the back of the left lung. The goat went down within twenty yards. “You little beauty!” I thought. I’d finally taken a really nice billy goat with a beautiful Howard Hill longbow and wooden arrows.

 

One of the many pleasant aspects of hunting is reflecting on the adventure just enjoyed (or endured). Wonderful memories are made, which can be a boost to the soul when a fellow gets caught-up in the drama of earning a living. During times of stress (or during long-winded staff meetings) I like to remember.

[Benny Nganabbarru]

I really like the action photo that Tony took of me as I dropped the string on that last goat for the second time, this one getting him. Just visible on the off-side of the billy is the arrow (made by Paul Jalon of Elite Arrows) having just exited - you should be able to see a little dot which is the blue fletching, although it shows-up great when blown-up to full-size.

[Benny Nganabbarru]

Australia is rich in mineral deposits, and in the early days of various mining rushes, merchants would follow along with herds of goats to provide the miners with the meat, milk, and hides. Goats are more capable of surviving the harsh climate extremes of the interior than cattle or sheep, and it didn’t take long before a feral population was flourishing. Today, there are over 2.5 million of them. They have a strong adverse affect on the surprisingly-fragile environment wherever they are present, decimating native herbs and grasses, and over-browsing shrubs and trees, impeding regeneration. This, combined with their hooves, contributes to soil erosion. They can also introduce weeds through seeds carried in their dung, and they fowl waterways. Competition with native wildlife and livestock for food, water and shelter is particularly apparent in times of drought. However, there is a steady Middle-Eastern and Asian market for their meat, and goats, which were once shot on sight and heaped into immense piles for burning on stations, have become a resource, providing them with extra income as they trap or muster them for the meat-works. This has changed the situation for sport hunters too, and although we have access to some fantastic feral goat country, we pay the station the going rate for each goat we shoot, which is between AU$20 and AU$35 per head. This way, everyone wins: the station battling the drought, the hunters looking for adventure, and the environment of the Australian Outback.

 

 

 

[Shaun]

Good hunting! That looks like a lot of fun chasing those goats. Good story telling and fine shooting. Thanks Ben

[Benny Nganabbarru]

Thanks, Shaun!

I'd also like to point-out the wonderful leatherwork of Mike G, which has made its way over to Australia and performs marvellously - thanks, Mike!

[Al Kidner]

What can I say ol mate other than well done! Super pics of our outback as well as quality game taken with mates close at hand.

 All the best mate. We are going to have to plan a hunt together soon.

Regards,

 A.K

[LV2HUNT]

Great story and pictures, thanks for sharing!

[KyleAllen]

Greatly enjoyed my friend. A nice escape from the lecture im pretending to listen to, lol. thanks for sharing

[Bjorn]

Man that's great ! Wonderful trip and pics to share. Ben what's the beast in your Avatar? Any words about him/her?

[JoeM]

One of the best picture stories I've seen.  Thanks for sharing  Joe

[Mark Baker]

Now that's some action!   Thanks  for the story and the great pics! -  Mark

[Steve H.]

I knew this would be a great story based on who was telling it.

Unfortunately I have some bad news.  Don passed away about a week ago from Prion diease which is one I am totally unfamiliar with.