As most of you know, Gene and I have been organizing hog hunts in Texas for many years. Friday was the last day of five one-week pig-gigs. On Thursday Gene and I offered to share some of our spots with the other guys for the grand finale. Bernie Finch from Wisc. is 73 years old and has had a big boar hog on his bucket-list for years. Gene put Bernie into one of my treestands while I put Rodney Martin and Dean Davenport (from SC) into two other areas. I'm please to say Dean got his very first bowkill with a recurve that evening and Rodney also got covered up. Bernie had a big black boar come in late in the evening. He made what appeared to be a good shot but hit the back part of the shield and didn't get complete penetration. The boar only ran off a little ways and tipped over. Bernie could see the arrow still moving but it was getting dark so he wisely backed out. A half hour later Gene came to pick him up and they blood trailed until they saw the boar. Bernie missed a finishing shot and the boar got up and ran off. They decided to back out until the morning.
Friday morning Gene, I and Bernie took up the trail. Bernie spotted him bedded and shot and I quickly followed up with another arrow as the boar ran away. I ran after him to finish him as quickly as possible. Suddenly he spun around, saw me and charged. They tend to drop their heads right before the charge. At a distance of about fifteen feet he was coming fast. I came to full draw and sunk a great shot cutting his carotid and because of the close distance angled down taking out the heart and exiting just behind the front leg. But unfortuneately he kept coming. With no time to reload I threw my Tall Tines recurve in his face and shinnied up a nearby tree. The shaft finally took effect and he died right at the base of my tree. Let me put it this way, when I came down out of the tree I almost stepped on my bow tip... but he was dead. He was a good 194 lb. boar with nice tusks so Bernie's dream came true. I have to admit I did pretty good on that one but the next one I didn't do so hot on.
Later that same afternoon I was heading into an area five miles away where I had a ladder next to a farm pond. On approaching I saw a group of two mature sows with seven or eight piglets drinking at the pond. The wind was good so I dropped down behind the pond levy and just barely reached a bent over tree where I'd killed a hog three weeks before. Here they came right for me. I noticed the calico sow was lactating but the bigger black one was apparently dry. She walked by at about 10 yds. and a zipped a shaft right behind her shoulder. It was a complete pass-through and the arrow was soaked in blood. I thought she'd go down before topping the ridge but the group made it over the top. Hmmm. Just to be on the safe side I gave it a half hour and easily walked along the blood trail. After topping out I noticed the blood letting up somewhat but still no problem. Then it got sparse. It was pretty open terrain on top with an occasional tree on a big cactus flat of prickly pear. Easing along I spotted her laying flat on her side. I assumed she was dead but nocked an arrow and quietly approached downwind from her. Getting about 20 yds. she suddenly rolled up on her stomach, then looked over to her left and saw me. Still bedded she crawled at an angle to face me. That should have been my first red flag. There were two small trees between us about four or five inches in diameter. One was maybe ten feet from her and another maybe fifteen feet. I shifted my angle so that each tree covered each of her eyes and quietly advanced forward to finish her. When I got about 40 feet from her she was stil watching me. I tried to step just off to my right to try to get a shaft into her at a better angle. I saw she moved her feet into the starting blocks and knew she was ready to bolt. So I put another arrow into the only option I had. It hit just behind her shoulder and blew all the way through exiting just in front of the opposite back leg. She jumped up and took off. I ran after her trying to keep her in sight then realized I was gaining on her. When I got to about fifteen yards I sunk another shaft behind her ribs. She spun around and faced me. I quickly reloaded. Now she was facing me at about thirty feet. We had the big stand-off. Don't show a growling dog (or hog) you're afraid of them. I stood my ground basically because there wasn't any trees to climb. She just stood there at thirty feet popping her teeth together. It was a little scarey.
Then the inevitable happened... She dropped her head and charged. For some strange reason I thought it'd be a false charge so stood my ground. When I finally came to the realization this was not a false charge she was picking up momentum. With no other options I tried to brain shoot her at about five feet. The arrow knocked her off her feet but she got up and came for me. With no time to get another shaft on the string I threw my bow in her face and turned to run. Just like in all bad dreams when some bad-ass is chasing you and you fall down... well dreams come true. I didn't run two strides and tripped over something falling face down right into a giant bed of prickly pear cactus. I turned on my side and saw she was taking her aggression out on my recurve. She'd flip it towards me with her snout while I kicked at her face. One time she threw it right into my lap and I threw it back in her face. Actually the bow was really saving me because she was venting aggression on the bow instead to me. In the fight I finally regained my feet. She was standing about ten feet from me again popping her jaws. I looked her right in the eyes and very slowly took one step towards her and reached down for the tip of my lower limb. When I realized I was somewhat in control again I quickly nocked another shaft and sunk another in her chest. She moved off to about twenty feet and just stood there. I had a judo and one more broadhead. Figuring I better save my last bullet just in case, she stood broadside at twenty feet. Then guilt overcame me and I thought I couldn't ask for a better shot. I was about at half draw on my last arrow when she suddenly tipped over. I could see she was still breathing so I just stood there on red alert.
Then it suddenly hit me, I was in a LOT of pain. Falling face down into the cactus bed I looked at the palms of my hands. They were covered with hundreds of cactus thorns. So were my forearms, ribs, knees/thighs. In the heat of the battle when I grabbed the riser of my recurve to take the last shot I'd either broken off dozens of thorns or driven them deeper. Then I remembered I had a pair of tweezers in my right front pocket. Digging my hand deep into my pocket to get the tweezers with a thorn infested hand really hurt too. Then I realized I lost my reading glasses in the fight and I couldn't see up close to pull the cactus. Plus my hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush I suppose. My right arm was really hurting too. If you look close in the above photo you can see the broken shaft right between her eyes. Another couple inches higher would have been a little more effective I think. I stumbled my way back to where I originally shot from knowing I left a sweatshirt laying on the ground there. Both my teeshirt and camo shirt were infested with thorns so I threw them away and put the sweatshirt on. I also knew I still had to pull that ladder stand since it was our last day. I pulled the twelve foot ladder, trail camera, rachet belts, safety belts, bow, etc. and carried them 500 yds. around the pond and up over the hill. When I finally reached the top I looked back and there were five more hogs at the edge of the pond. I had a perfect wind and one arrow left so... no way.. I was completely whipped. I'm getting to old for this stuff.
It was like 6:30 and there was still 45 minutes of primetime left. I noticed I had a single bar on my cellphone. Gene had the truck and he was four or five miles away. I called him and told him I got a hog but killed it in hand-to-hand combat; fell in the cactus and was covered with a thousand thorns; my arm was really hurting and I was totally dehydrated and as thirsty as I'd ever been in my life. I'll quote.. he said "Are you bleeding? If you're not bleeding, you're not needing. Cowboy up. I'll be there after dark." Then he hung up. Brotherly love. He said after he hung up he felt a little sorry for me and headed my way. Now the rest of the story. In the pig-fight I broke the distal end of my right arm in what was diagnosed as a Colles' fracture. This is my bad arm I severely broke in 2001 and have a dozen screws and two plates in. No problem other than I need to immobilize it and can't shoot my bow for awhile. Actually since I'm not a turkey hunter it's a great time of year to heal. HEY.. maybe I can get a crossbow permit! Anyway, a quarter of a century of chasing hogs and I've never been charged. Then I get charged twice in the same day. As I've always said weird stuff always happens to me. Always be aware any wounded animal is dangerous. I'll never forget it the rest of my life. My only regret is it would have made great video footage... twice.
Be careful out there. Uncle Barry
[ March 13, 2011, 02:37 PM: Message edited by: Barry Wensel ]
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Barry Wensel
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From: Keosauqua,
Topic: Barry Wensel charged by hogs ! pig gig #5 (Read 2793 times)
