As we walked along at ground level even more sign was visible while we listened to the storm roll along on the same course. I felt real good about the evening hunt, something was just bound to happen.
Not too far from camp we came to an intersection and down the much less traveled was a group of shooter pigs. Those of the easy dragging persuasion. Fine eating any of them would be if the 1st stalk worked out the way we always hope it will. Ray, being the gracious host, offered his hand down the grassy road and said "Have at them Sir". Not wanting to insult the host, I dove in the short pines to close the gap.
I ran into a pocket of briars about 75 yards in, and they were way too noisy to try and sneak through, so I back tracked a tad and eased out to the road for look see. It looked like there was enough spotty cover to try and sneak from bush to bush with the occasional crawl. This is a normal tactic for TX Sweat, so I thought I try my luck in South Carolina.
It was working really well and one of the hogs made it a little easier for me. She decided to come toward me while the rest of the group was moving the opposite way. She was almost in range when she turned her back just as lightening struck. Soon as the thunder started to roll I began to make several quick moves into shooting range, and again the gal turned back my way and came a few steps and turned to a 45 degree angle in the road which made here broadside to me. It was my all up to me now.
The arrow looked to be a very lethal hit as the piggy swapped ends and ran about 10 yards down the middle of the road and then veered off to the right into the ditch where I lost sight of her. Then lightening struck again, only this time it was close, very close....
I looked down the road and the rest of the group was still milling around and I eased out slowly to cross and find my arrow. I was so involved in the hunt that I didn't realize this storm had veered left and was almost on top of me. The rain began to fall, and in just a few seconds the bottom fell slap out. I thought of my camera that was vulnerable in my fanny pack. I'd dropped the pack for the final approach stalk and it was laying off the side of the road and I hurried to rescue it.
I grabbed the pack and ducked into the sparse pines and huddled over my pack shedding it from the pounding rain that was blowing sideways. Then a cold shiver came over me as I felt the hail pounding my back when only moments ago I was perspiring from the 85 degree temps and 85% humidity. Then it was over, just as fast as it had started.
Knowing there was no blood trail left after that gully washer, I decided to look for the hog blind from the last stretch in the ditch I'd seen her. She'd only made it 25 yards. As I checked her out I remembered the bow I had chosen for this hunt, a Thunderstick, and could only smile. This bow did the exact same thing that her 10# heavier sister did on her very 1st hunt...she brought home the bacon. Must be some type of MOAB Mojo.
It was a great start to a weekend of hunting...and there was plenty of time for Ray to have a turn before the sun went down.......ya best stay tuned :D
Topic: Hail Storm Bacon and The Bay of Pigs... (Read 5092 times)
