A thunderstorm loomed on the horizon as lightning flickered in the distance, illuminating the sky and the surroundings unpredictably. The air hung in heavy moisture as mosquitoes buzzed and sweat rolled down my forehead, burning my eyes. Clouds drifted in front of the the full moon darkening the landscape until the moon shone through the break in the clouds. I longed to stop what I was doing to appreciate the unique weather this night but was too engrossed in stalking the lone hog, as it fed and trotted around, never remaining still. As I placed my feet gingerly on the path toward the pig, I could not detect any wind, concerned it would smell me as I was within 70 yards and soaked wet from perspiration. The clouds blocked the moon again and I stole a few quick steps in the darkness, until I approached a bush in my path. My goal was to move to the far side of the bush, to put me in the range of 40 yards - the closer, the better. Lightening flickered again and allowed me to steal a peek at where to put my next few steps, avoiding the cactus and small rocks that click loudly in the still night. Suddenly, the clouds parted as if someone turned up the lights...I knew the clouds may block the moonlight and stay with the storm rolling in. I decided this was the moment, even though I was farther than what I wanted to be. I shouldered the rifle waiting for the broadside shot. Finally, it came. The hog stopped to look up and I squeezed the trigger. Hearing the pig grunt as it dashed across the open field. I purposely held still, replaying the scene in my mind trying to guess where the wounded pig would run, double-checking I had subconsciously worked the bolt to reload the chamber and drying the sweat from my eyes. I took a moment to stand awe of the lightning storm heading my way. Realizing rain may soon move in and wipe out any blood trail, I walked over and found a trickle of blood and followed it for 10 yards when it disappeared and with a guess, started towards the creek. I scanned the area with my flashlight finding nothing so I backtracked to the last spot I had seen a drop of blood and stood, shining the flashlight from various angles trying to find the next clue. Hooves thrashed nearby and I dismissed them as deer running off. The wind started and I became aware that any moment the blood trail may be washed away. Urgently, I looked for the next drop of blood to no avail and heard the hooves thrashing again. Then it dawned on me - the pig I shot was on his side nearby kicking his legs. I moved in the general direction and stopped waiting for the next noise. The hooves thrashed again and I moved closer, shining the light and the rifle in the general direction through the darkness. Finally, I found it down and raised the rifle to shoot it again from 15 yards. After the second shot, amazingly, it stood up and took two steps before falling over a final time.
Finally, I relaxed and felt proud of pursuing this to the end, in the dark night, by myself at the seemingly dead end blood trail. I bought this .35 Whelen because of its knockdown power and mild recoil, knowing that pigs are rarely still and are usually seen in questionable shooting light and any extra measure of power is appreciated. As I stripped the meat from the pig, I explored my bullet path and discovered the first shot had been a good one, penetrating both shoulders and lodging in the far side of the hide. I wonder how this not-too-big of a pig traveled 80 yards after the initial shot.
No comments:
Post a Comment