Well, not daily, of course.
I haven't been doing much shooting the last couple of weeks, between being away from home, then working a lot of hours to make up for it, then the heat of summer, coupled with some stupid virus that I picked up. Anyway, after work today was the first day that I felt up to going out to check on the only feeder that is running on my property. I haven't had much hog sign for the last month or so, but I figured I would give it a shot anyway.
I was running a little late, so I had my wife drop me off at the feeder using her electric cart. We crested a hill a little over a hundred yards away and came to a stop. There were hogs already at the feeder, so we backed out of there until we were out of sight, she dropped me off, and she turned around and went back home.
I knew that I couldn't cross the open fiend for a stalk, and was already lucky that I hadn't been busted by a stray wind. I crossed through thick Johnson grass to the west until I was out of eyesight of the feeder, crossed the field, and headed into the woods. From there, I circled as quickly and quietly as I could to come out a little northwest of the clearing that the feeder was in, to keep the wind in my favor. Now, I wasn't anything close to silent. After record flooding in May and June, the faucets turned off, and it is very dry here now. That probably explains why the hogs have finally consented to return to a feeder.
Anyway, I got to a point where I could see the clearing, but was unable to get close enough to see the feeder. I could here the hogs under it, but a group of small ones didn't have permission to be directly under the feeder, and kept roaming close enough to me that I couldn't close the gap. I decided to shoot one of them, since it probably wouldn't be long before the wind shifted and the ballgame would be over.
I drew back with the first arrow that I grabbed out of my quiver, which turned out to be tipped with a cutthroat. Well, the piggy saw be and scooted forward at the release, which resulted in a ham shot. Could have been worse. Probably a quick kill, or complete recovery. I though I heard it go down across the clearing, as hogs scattered, with some going into the drainage to the east, and others(presumably the larger ones from under the feeder) sneaking to the west, between me and the open field. That group cut my trail and growled at me on the way out, and probably won't be back for awhile.
I had a little daylight left, so grabbed my arrow, let some more corn out of the feeder, and went into my blind to see if anyone would come back. I still hadn't tracked the little pig, but wanted to wait a little. On the way to the blind, I found an old arrow that I had killed a raccoon with, which was a bonus. Basically 2 arrows that were a little dull and bloody, and 2 fresh arrows left, one tipped with a VPA and one with a snuffer.
I wasn't sitting in the blind for a minute before a group of 6 longbeards and a jake came in for dinner. Fun to watch, and I videotaped them on my phone for 5 minutes, before getting busted one of them. One putt, and they scooted out of there.
Some birds and squirrels took there place, but when I heard a group of doves take off, I knew something was coming, looked across the clearing, and here came 4 smallish hogs. They were very jumpy, and I know that they smelled where I had been at the feeder. I didn't want to give them much time to think about that, and took the first shot that presented itself, even though it was quartering to me. I hit it right at the shoulder, and it came out the opposite hip with enough force to knock the hog off of it's feet for a second, before it was off and running. I heard it crash in the brush, and knew that it didn't go far. I gathered up my stuff, and slowly tracked my what to where I knew the hog had gone into the drainage, picking up another bloody arrow on the way.
Along the way, I found the first little pig, only a few yards into the woods.
I had been fairly quiet up until this point, but when I took the picture of the little hog, I saw motion up ahead around 15 yards away, and knew it either was a wounded hog, or one of his friends. I put my last fresh arrow on the string, tipped with a snuffer, and crept closer. When I got a good look, the hog was trying to get to it's feet, but was too weak,, gasping for breath. I waited a minute or two, and it was all over. Here he is.
And here is my stack of arrows. At least I don't have to clean the one with the white fletching tonight.