At first it seemed like slow motion. The gray mountain of a hog was at 10 yards and he finally stopped broadside and looked down at the corn on the ground. The scurrying of the other hogs seemed to slow down to a snail's pace. I was in "deer killer" mode and I picked a spot.
Then, as they say, "all hell broke loose."
Tank looked up at the kill light and seeing the face of the light at close range was all it took for Tank and the hogs to start an explosion of running in every direction -- and TANK WAS HEADED RIGHT AT ME AT A FULL RUN.
Everything slowed down again, and at the last split second he veered to avoid the brush in front of me and passed me with only a foot between him and my left shoulder. YIKES! I am certain that he would have trampled me and made a mess of my poor carcass.
It took me a few seconds to remember to take a breath.
How could a hunting experience get any more interesting than that close call? I don't think I want to find out.
I decided to end the hunt, get my gear and head for camp. Getting a shot at a game animal is always great, but an animal almost trampling me into a pulp is a rare and memorable experience.