One afternoon after school, my wife and I headed to a little swamp on the Katherine River, only a dozen kilometres from town as the crow flies. It was a slow drive in along a rough track requiring four-wheel-drive, and then we parked the vehicle and still had a bit of a hike in to the swamp, perhaps a bit less than two kilometres. This was in May. This swamp doesn't hold water very long, and because it only has water at the beginning of the year, it is never really "hot" in terms of activity; in fact, aside from this day, we've never seen game there. When we got to the swamp, there was only twenty minutes of daylight left, and Simone plonked down to read the newspaper while I did a lap. There was plenty of vegetation around the swamp, so we couldn't really get a look at the whole thing. As I moved around the bottom end, the usual wallabies spooked away. Then, a break in the cover revealed a boar at the other end. Removing my boots and socks, I stalked up the edge of the swamp, keeping hidden in the cover, as quickly as I could. The top end is a little more open, and eventually I ran out of cover, and the boar was still just out of range on an open grassy section. I was motionless, and hidden by the last bit of foliage, and was disappointed as it looked like he was feeding away. Suddenly, he turned, and began walking the waterline on a course that would bring him right past my position. Closer and closer he came, and although I knew he was a boar, I didn't realise how big. Sometimes a pig can look big until you walk up to the carcass, and look small until you do the same. A trick of the mind. Anyway, as his head became hidden, I reached full draw, and as he came past a little gap in the foliage, I let the arrow loose. The distance was about nine metres. It penetrated about halfway, having hit the shoulder, and with a "Whoof!" he took-off into the savannah. Being twilight, I quickly walked in the direction he'd gone, and was rewarded with the sight of thrashing grass. I carefully approached and worked-out which direction he faced as he lay there. I snuck-up behind and put another arrow in behind his rib cage, angling into the kill zone. There was no movement at the shot. He had made about seventy metres, and had lasted less than twenty seconds. I walked around the swamp to find Simone, and we took photos. On the way back to the Toyota, Simone stepped on a stick that jumped-up and whacked her in the leg - she thought she'd been stung by a snake, and squawked! It was rather funny. On the drive back out, we saw an owlet nightjar and a python, so it was a very pleasant, memorable outing. I can only guess that the weight of this boar might be somewhere between 100kg and 120kg. I used my 78# BW PLX, and 704 grain CX350s with Magnus II 2-bladers.
Topic: Tell me about the biggest hog you've shot (Read 205 times)
