We'd watched for long-enough, and because I was in the passenger seat, I got to grab my brother's 60lb Martin Hunter recurve, and walk down the road to test-out how adrenaline-pumped, usually-skittish-and-shy billies might react to a person strolling up to them with ill intent gleaming in his wild-eye.
As I got to bow-range, the bigger-bodied chap was the only one to present a shot, and by the time I did shoot, the larger-horned beast was in retreat. Besides, I felt that it was disrespectful for the evidently-younger fellow to be picking on an evidently-senior citizen of the wild bush.
Prior to this goat hitting the deck, I had only taken nine animals with the bow-and-arrow, including my first and only two with the compound. So, I suppose I was keen to simply get experience, and the first animal to make the blunder was the one that got hit. But, I do hope to meet a billy like that grey some day!
It was hot as blazes out there, incidentally. Back then, I was convinced of the need for full-sleeve, northern-hemisphere-style hunting clothing. These days, when I hunt goats, I am more practically-clad.
Topic: Brawling Billy Goats; or, The Winner that Lost... (Read 698 times)
