Page 6_________ BULLS & THINGS
Story & Photography by Ted Mitchell
A Hunt on Australia’s Feral Scrub Bull
Page 14________ LONGTINE
Story & Photography by Rob Harvey
Stag Hunting on the Sambar
Page 20________ ON THE GILBERT
Story & Photography by Rod Wilson
Hunting Feral Boars in the remote Top End
Page 28________ BOAR SHOOTING
Hunter’s Photo Gallery
Page 31________ SHOOTING IN THE TERRITORY
Story & Photography by Bob West
Page 32________ OASIS
Story & Photography by Perce Spychiger
In the Middle of Nowhere, Pig Hunting on Lagoons.
Page 34________ HUNTING SCRUB BULL Hunter’s Photo Gallery
Page 40________ FEATURE GAME
THE MIGHTY WATER BUFFALO
Page 46________ DOUBLE UP Hunting Buffalo in Arnhemland
Story & Photography by Vic Attard
Cover shot: Hunting the Mighty Water Buffalo. Story on page 46.
WILD BOAR AUSTRALIA SPECIAL EDITION BIG GAME AUSTRALIA
Page 52__ BUFFALO HUNTING
PUBLISHER/ EDITOR VIC ATTARD
Hunter’s Photo Gallery
ART ROOM JACQUE ATTARD
Page 58__ GOOD YEAR FOR & Photography by STAGS StoryBrenton Mitchell Hunting the Magnificent Red Stag
Page 62__ CANINES & CAPE & Photography John YORK Story Rupic & Mick Mc Cormick Hunting Pigs with Hounds
Page 66__ PIG DOG HUNTING Hunter’s Photo Gallery
Page 72__ SCRUBBERS
Story & Photography by Greg Harold
Scrub Bull & Boar Shooting in Cape York
Page 78__ MIXED GAME Hunter’s Photo Gallery
FIELD EDITORS TED MITCHELL ROB HARVEY ROD WILSON PERCE SPYCHIGER BRENTON MITCHELL JOHN RUPIC MICK MC CORMICK GREG HAROLD BOB WEST FOR ADVERTISING ENQUIRIES contact Vic Attard Mobile: 0401 014 592 Email email@example.com MAILING ADDRESS PO Box 10126, Mt Pleasant, Mackay, QLD 4740. ACN:091403851 ABN:15091403851 No picture or any part of the contents of this publication may be scanned or reproduced in any way without prior written consent from the publisher. Pig hunting is a dangerous sport, Wild Boar Australia accepts no responsibility for any damage and/or injury suffered by readers. Further, the editor/publisher accepts no responsibility for the accuracy of statements or opinions expressed by writers. Printed by Graphic Impressions.
gest of the deer species, but we also have Rusa, Chital and
Looking across the world at the game available to hunt in
Hog Deer. Some areas have also introduced Elk Deer from the
other countries makes us envious at times, and the desire to go
States to add to this great variety of deer species in our coun-
and hunt in these places some day. But, have you ever stopped
try. Any Deer Hunter would have to be kicking his heels up
and taken a look at the large range of game available to hunt
about the species available to Australian deer hunters, a variety
here in Australia, the range of game is not only huge, but also
that will keep them walking the hills till the day they die.
of World Class Standard. Enough game to for fill any hunter's
Perhaps you're a Wing Shooter, there too is a large variety of
desire in his life time of hunting.
bird species on offer, when in season, there is the wood duck,
Fallow Deer, along with that ever so small, and very elusive
black duck, teal, and magpie geese just to name a few of the Australia has its share of 'Big Game' animals, like the mighty
duck species. With Quail and Pheasant shooting also to be
Water Buffalo, Bantang, and the dangerous Scrub Bull, with
the inclusion of Sambar and Red Deer. There also is a number of different mix of game spread through out Australia like
Quite a range of game, isn't it! When you look at them all on
the feral Brumby and Donkey, desert hunting for camel, Wild
paper it makes one realize how fortunate we hunters have it
Dogs, Dingoes, Foxes, goats, rabbits, feral cats, and the largely
here in Australia. Adding to the game variety, is the different
talked about Wild Boar, that inhabit most parts of Australia.
terrain and conditions of the Australian land that we are so
And what about Australia's classic range of deer to be hunted,
lucky to hunt in. The nature and uniqueness of this land only
as mention before, the Sambar and Red Deer, being the big-
adds much desire to the hunt. The timbered mountains and rolling hills of Victoria and NSW, are breath taking to hunt in. Head out west to the Lignum and channel country to where the land is flat and the soil changes from black to red. There's the pine plantations and lush rainforest of the north that lead up to the harsh land of Cape York. Vast floodplains and thick paper bark swamps of the Northern Territory and so on. It's all unique to Australia and it just adds so much dimension to the hunt. Perhaps I'm biased, but put the two together; our great variety of hunting game along with our unique and
breathtaking landscape, and you would have to agree that Australia can boast some of the best hunting in the world! As one hunter to another, don't limit yourself to hunting just one game, with all that is available to us here, experience the challenges that other game possess. Take advantage of what is here. Join clubs and meet other hunters where you may have the opportunity to learn something of other hunter's experiences with different game, as well as pass on your own knowledge. In this WBA special edition of Big Game Australia, we hope to help you to do that, inside this issue you will find a mix of different game taken on these shores; hunts told by hunters, how they saw it through their own eyes. There are no 'Great White Hunters' here, just dedicated hunters doing what they love best...Getting back to the wild of the bush. Become a Field Author for Big Game Australia and send in your memorable hunt on game you have taken. We want to see different game taken by old and new hunters, so I look forward to seeing your stories/photos come through the mail and any feed back you have on this issue. A special thanks goes out to NIOA and Tuskproof Protective Accessories, for the great prizes they have on offer for our readers...Thank you !!! Enough from me for now, but remember, Hunt the Australian Adventure. Best regards and good hunting, Vic Attard. Wild Boar Australia firstname.lastname@example.org
SLOWLY MARK AND I CLOSED THE GAP. HAVING SPOTTED THIS BULL FROM AROUND 300 METRES, WE HAD DECIDED ON A STALK, AS MARK WANTED TO ARROW A SCRUB BULL WITH HIS EXCALIBUR CROSSBOW. HAVING ALREADY WARNED MARK THAT THESE BULLS CAN BE VERY DANGEROUS AT TIMES, WE CAREFULLY STARTED TO STALK HIM.
Main Picture: Mark with a massive-bodied Scrub Bull.
At around 30 metres I motioned
us a bit of grief if he spotted
to Mark to get in a little closer
us, especially as Marks backup
before firing. Pretty soon Mark
consisted of only me with my
was laying just 20 metres from
the unsuspecting bull. Slowly
Mark reloaded, then took care-
he raised his Paradox crossbow,
ful aim and shot the bull again.
then squeezing the trigger; he
The bull was all but done, as the
sent a 2219 shaft on its way.
first shaft was a killing shot, then
The twang, thump, as the bow
when the second shaft hit him it
fired and the arrow struck, then
just expedited his demise. After
passed right through the bull,
setting him up and taking a few
sounded quite loud in the relative
photos, the unenviable job of tak-
quietness of the bush. The bull
ing his skullcap was performed
gave a slight twitch before trot-
before heading back to the bull
ting a few paces; he then looked
catcher for a cool drink. We
aggressively back to see what
sojourned back at Greg's camp
had stung him. He may not
before heading off to the far side
have been a really big bull but he
of the property.
was plenty big enough to cause
Driving slowly from swamp to
swamp, we were crossing a rough sand ridge when a big boar pig was spotted nonchalantly rooting around under a Nunda nut tree, feasting on the Nunda nuts.
out quickly, Mark grabbed his bow plus a few arrows, and then began stalking the unsuspecting boar. Close, then closer, mark crept in on the boar. Greg and I thought for sure the boar would look up catching Mark out, being right in the open such as he was. But no, he was too busy devouring the sweet nuts. From 15 metres, Mark fired. At the shot, from standing head down rooting for nuts, to up and running full speed, took but half a second and two paces. The last we saw was the boar disappearing down into a dry creek bed with Mark hot on his tail. It seemed an eternity before the radio crackled; it was Mark calling in saying he had got him. Driving over to where Mark directed us, the first thing he wanted was
Above: Author with white and black spotted pig.
a big drink of water; we then went to take
Below: 'The following morning the local police rolled up at camp, they were doing a routine patrol...the old bull catcher looked slightly out of place parked near the police Cruiser. '
photos and the boar's jaw which sported a good set of dentures. Hand held UHF radios are a must up in this country; we never leave the vehicle without one, plus spare batteries. Something as simple as running off from the vehicle after a good pig could quite easily turn into a tragedy. Many of you would know just how easy it is to take off after a good trophy without taking notice of where you headed to, or where from. Then after chasing around, sometimes in circles, suddenly you think, shit where's the vehicle? Probably
ridge when a roaring noise could be heard
was sitting close to the edge of the swamp
more hunters have been lost in the bush
over the noise of the motor in the old bull
with me a bit to one side when we heard
this way than any other. It pays to have a
catcher. Wondering what it was we looked
a snorting noise coming from behind us.
belt with a knife, a few survival items and
behind us to see a bloody big whirlwind
Looking back, we couldn't help but laugh,
a small hand held UHF attached and never
bearing down on us. It was a beauty, with
as it was Greg, fast asleep snoring and
leave the vehicle without it. Even if you
trees bending and leaves, bark and stuff
believe me; Greg can snore with the best
happen to know where you are, you can
flying high into the air. After taking a few
of them. We decided to leave him sleep
call your buddy and get him to drive over to
photos we were soon on our way again.
in peace, as you never know he might just
save a walk. Or if you have an accident
It wasn't long before we came to a good
suck in a few pigs with his snorting.
at least you can call for help. Setting off
swamp where it was decided to sit, waiting
wasn't long before I was nearly in noddy
again, we were just crossing another sand
to see what would come in to water. Mark
land with Greg, then suddenly a stick hit
Above: Mark with a pig he took with the Cross Bow. Below: Mob of pigs feeding on a carcass. Far Right: Scrub Bull taken with Cross Bow, by Mark.
me. It was Mark getting my attention as a
the trigger a 2219 shaft sped unerringly at
on the trigger sent a shaft clean through
heap of pigs was moseying in to water at
the boar, passing clean through him to be
her. About three paces were all she made
the other end of the swamp. Grabbing my
lost forever in the swamp behind him.
before succumbing to the shot. The next
bow and camera then following Mark, we
few wobbly steps were all the boar could
day, Mark and I were walking a small dry
were soon sneaking through the tall grass
manage before crashing to the ground,
creek when a boar was spotted lying up
at the far end of the swamp. Staying back
dead as last week's news.
under an undercut bank.
a little so as to get a few photos of Mark
looking sow ran past me, and then stopped
couldn't see it as he was coming up the
and the boar at the same time, I settled
30 metres away to look back. By this time
other side of the creek; I stalked a little
down beside a small Melaleuca.
I had swapped camera for bow, lining up
closer before putting a shaft clean through
on the sows shoulder, a bit of pressure
him. It's amazing, all of his plumbing was
lined up on the boar, then with a squeeze of
A big rangy
severely damaged plus his femoral was cut
got a big one, drive up the watercourse
caution, as taking a lean on a convenient
where the broad-head sliced clean through
about eight hundred metres and you should
tree; he put the crosshairs between the
him, yet still he managed a 30 meter dash
be able to see me, as it opens up a bit."
bull's eyes then squeezed the trigger. The
before piling up. After a few photos and
Driving to roughly where Mark had directed
bull hit the ground like he had been pole-
a bit more of a hunt, we radioed Greg to
us, we spotted him on the other side of the
axed, hardly giving a kick. Greg reckoned
come and pick us up.
dry watercourse waving to us. "It must
he was the largest bodied Peninsular Red
decided that just for something different, he
be a good one." I remarked to Greg. "He
scrub bull shot that year.
would like to try to shoot a couple of pigs
seems awfully excited." Getting to where
backslapping and a photo session, Greg got
with my .260 Ruger rifle. Grabbing my rifle
Mark was waiting for us, he excitedly said
his little tomahawk to work and proceeded
plus a canteen of water and a radio, Mark
that it was massive, but not a pig.
to take the skullcap. Boy, this took some
set off for a solo hunt while I stayed back
Greg and I crested the bank, there on the
doing, as he was a tough old bugger. In
at the bull catcher with Greg, reading black
other end of a small lagoon was one of the
the process Greg took an almighty swing
label Penthouse magazines (Well, looking
biggest bulls we had seen for some time.
with his tomahawk and squashed his fin-
at the pictures anyway.)
Mark explained as how he didn't know
ger between the tip of the bull's horn and
passed before the sound of a shot rever-
whether to shoot it or not as he wasn't cer-
the handle of the tomahawk. Boy what a
berated through the bush.
tain whether the rifle was capable of killing
mess, the tip of the horn nearly went right
it, it was that big.
through his finger. Mark and I learned a
Later that day Mark
Twenty minutes Then Mark's
excited voice came over the radio. "I've
But excitement overrode
After a bit of
few new words as Greg did a neat little war dance while holding his finger. The finger swelled up and really looked a frightful mess, but Greg handled it well, saying it actually didn't keep on hurting that much. Infection was our biggest worry but over the next week or so it healed up quite well. Just as well he's a tough little bugger as he knocks himself around a bit at times. It could have been a lot worse I suppose though, it could have been my finger. Getting back to camp, there were quite a few celebratory drinks to be had.
following morning the local police rolled up at camp, they were doing a routine patrol. It would have to be at least five or more hours drive in to Greg's camp, especially driving a 4X4, as it's a pretty rough track from Coen. Then they would have had more than five hours drive back as they were taking a circuitous route back, covering a few other properties. Over coffee and cake, we had a pretty good yarn before the police headed off on their long trip back to the station. They were a good bunch of blokes and showed considerable interest in our hunting exploits with the crossbows, even having a few shots to gain a little more knowledge of what crossbows were really like. The Left: Mark with one of the pigs taken.
old bull catcher looked slightly out of place parked near the police
know how well the boar was hit. Getting over to where the boar
Cruiser. That afternoon, a bit more pig chasing was on the agenda.
was standing, Greg found some blood on the ground. Marking the
Driving up a track where Mark had shot a bull a few days prior, we
spot with some fluoro tape we painstakingly followed up the spoor
expected to see pigs on the carcass. We weren't disappointed
through the long grass and thick bush, subsequently marking each
as there were about ten pigs fighting amongst themselves for the
blood spot as we found it. We ended up finding the boar laying stone
scraps. I say scraps because after only three days there was virtu-
dead a further 40 to 50 paces out in the thick shit. Going back to
ally nothing left but the skin and the stink. Sneaking in to around 30
where the boar had been standing and measuring back to where
paces Mark fired and Mark missed. Bugger! Moving on, it wasn't
Mark had fired from it was a good 40 metre shot. Not a bad way to
long before we were sneaking in on another swamp. Spotting a
end up a good hunt. Thursday came around too soon for Mark, as
boar napping on the far side, it was decided to let Mark have a go at
he was flying home with plenty of work commitments waiting for him.
him. After what seemed like an eternity he was actually nearly with-
Greg had three more clients flying in on the same day, so I stayed
in shooting distance. Suddenly the boar stood up, walking around
on to help cook and have another week or more holidays, fishing
with his tail held high he sniffed the air, and instinctively knowing all
and hunting the wilds of Cape York.
was not well. All was not well all right as Mark took a long shot and drilled him. It seemed as if he was a bit far for a shot and we didn't
HELPED BY THE LIGHT FROM MY SMALL
and dug the ground or rubbed on the small trees
TORCH, IN THE PRE-DAWN DARKNESS,
about him. After about five minutes he was out of
I WALKED SLOWLY DOWN ONE OF MY
the small gut and began to thrash a bush.
'FILMING TACKS'. AS I WAS SETTING UP
The hind was now looking back behind her and
MY VIDEO GEAR THERE WAS A LIGHT
when I zoomed in to see what was going on, I was
DRIZZLE OF RAIN, SO I COVERED THE
surprised to see another pair of antlers, those of a
CAMERA WITH ITS LITTLE 'RAINCOAT'
stag standing over her! He began hooking at the
THEN I SETTLED BACK TO AWAIT THE
hind's back leg and rump and then pawing her
with his forefoot; he then began licking her. She put up with this attention for a while and then
Glassing at first light I picked up a hind and her
jumped up, went behind some bushes out of my
calf making their way along a game trail; the
sight. The stag started to follow, as did the calf.
calf was running and playing about its mother but soon they settled and bedded down. Further
I did not see them for a while and concentrated
movement back on the game trail revealed a
on finding the other stag. He was
big-bodied stag picking his way along, ground
still in much the same place as I had
scenting the hind and calf. I could see that he
last seen him. As I watched, sud-
was just out of velvet and his antlers were quite
denly his ears pricked forward, he
impressive as he stopped every few yards
swung and lowered his head to the
ground, and the other stag was right by him! They began sizing each other up, pacing from side to side, backwards and forwards, then they came together with a clash of antlers. There was lots of noise, with strange, short sounds like 'nah, nah, meau, meau and yaw, yaw'.
us to evaluate the true trophy potential of this stag. Our first day was uneventful. The following day we arrived at our hunting area even earlier and
With antlers clashing the battle went on for over a quarter of an hour until the smaller stag let out a loud 'meau, meau' broke off in full view. He looked back, lowered his head again then hobbled his way out of this bush skirmish. I was still just across from the hind and calf that were now camped up in their beds, so now I decided to take a look at the winner. The wind was OK as I moved down to look at 'Long Tine' (I had already given him a name and it suited him too!) I was not disappointed in the filming; he was still camped up on the small ledge and 'Wow! Were his antlers impressive!'
A plan was prepared and a few weeks later my friend, trophy hunter Spence Bennett along with his GSP dog 'Pop' and I were glassing for any movement of 'Long Tine'. Having him on film really helped
glassed all the 'hot spots'. Even so, it was just on dark and with the help of Pop's ears and nose, we sighted the hind and calf, and three juvenile stages. Shooting light was fast fading when we heard a crash below the young stags. I whispered to Spence that I had the stag in the video. "Can you see him?" Was his reply. "What do you want to do? It'll be dark soon." I asked. "I'm going to shoot him" Spence whispered back.
I zoomed in onto the stag; he was digging the soft
close on the 7 mm. It was a long shot, about 300
ground around him with his antlers. Spence waited
metres. Bang! Then the second shot rang out and
until the stag lifted his head and I heard the bolt
as it did there was a startling chorus of honking. We could make out the hind and two young stags with tails at full mast, honking and stamping with their forefeet - what a ruckus!
As darkness fell the honking stopped and we listened for any sound from Long Tine. It was quite dark when we heard him. There was a long drawn out moaning, and a loud crash as the stag fell, then silence. Unfortunately because of the steep cliffs and broken terrain, it was not safe to head down to the stag in the dark. We went back the short distance to our camp and next morning we made our way down to recover Long tine.
The going was slow but steady; Pop was scenting and going about his job well. A well-trained dog is a great asset when it comes to finding a downed deer and soon we Above: Stag spotted on the game trail. Having him on film really helped us to evaluate the true trophy potential of this stag.
were standing by Spence's stag. I put out my hand to congratulate him and his dog. Close inspection showed both shots were just behind the shoulder, showing excellent marksmanship considering the distance and fading light.
I arrived at Normanton Airport and was met as arranged by Aaron, the manager of the Wilderness Lodge, and my guide for the next four days. He was a lanky fit looking fella which I considered a good sign. He gave me a hand to get my gear off the aircraft. I had pre-arranged with Aaron that I wanted to nail a few nice boars with my new passion, a compound bow, as well as the usual rifle. He was more than willing as it makes things a bit more interesting for him too!t
We covered the 300 kms to the station and were
daily occurence) with my thoughts on the following
had not stalked far from the Toyota when Aaron
met by Aaron's wife, Naomi; she showed me to my
pointed out the top of an ear about 30 metres
very modern air-conditioned cabin and tild me to
I met Aaron for breakfast at 6 a.m. and we were in
away. The huge black boar flew out of his bed
make my way over to the house for dinner once
the Hilux by half past. We had the use of a Quad
on getting wind of us and then immediately flew
I was sorted. It took me no time to unpack and I
bike for the day and Aaron's plan was to leave
back into it as I unloaded my first round of the trip!
was over at the house discussing tactics for the
it, drive up wind several kilometers along one
I was one happy hunter as you can see by the
following morning with Aaron. After a huge feed I
of the river systems and hunt back to the Quad.
picture, not the biggest boar or tusks I have ever
waddled back to my cabin (This was to become a
We would then ride back to the truck. I got the
taken but a bloody great start! We did see several
impression not many of his
other pigs on our way to the quad but nothing that
previous clients like to walk
equaled or bettered the first hog so they were left
too far and he was going to
alone. That's my kind of hunting, always striving
for that better trophy.
I took the easy way out on
Aaron was surprised we didn't see more but I
the first day and took the
wasn't worried. Our next stop was at a bore and
Remington Carbine Pump in 30.06. I was using 180 grain hand loads on this trip as the factory ammo I used in the Northern Territory the previous year was "crap!" We
dam. The track skirted one side and on the other
noon by the time we were back near the house
wind direction again, everything was sweet. At the
was long grass. We slowly peeked over the crest
and Aaron dropped me off at a swamp with the
swamps edge it was unbelievable how many pigs
of the dam wall and scanned the other side with
bow. "Try the bow and I'll be back at dusk."
were there - hundreds! I was tucked up against a
bino's. Aaron noticed them first; a mod of perhaps
Several pigs made there way out on the swamp
large tree and Aaron was behind another. Before
10 pigs all camped at the waters edge under the
as well as a few dingoes but unfortunately I was
long a large boar headed our way. At 10 metres
shade of a tree. There seemed to be one nice
unable to get close enough for a shot, maybe I
he stopped and turned broadside at which time I
boar with them so I took aim with the Remington
would have success tomorrow with the bow!
released and the arrow passed through both of the
and Aaron started shouting! They were up and
Back at my cabin I cleaned up, walked over
swine's lungs and exited the other side. The boar
getting out of there fast. The boar was clever
to the house for dinner and waddled back a
jumped into the air and then ran two large circuits
though and kept behind the other pigs, but when
couple of hours later, my mind full of anticipa-
around us before expiring amongst a group of
they broke into the grass and spread out, the boar
tion for tomorrow!
sleeping hogs. Those pigs went crazy and started
was exposed. I let him have it and by the time we
The next morning I was up before the alarm and
attacking the downed boar and the noise was
both recovered from the Remington's mussel blast
readied my rifle and most importantly the bow.
amazing. When we later checked out the boar he
the boar was on the ground pushing up daisies.
I'd only just stared using the bow six months
was covered in rip marks! Neither Aaron nor I had
That was number two and another great hog and it
before and had been lucky enough to nail a huge
ever seen this sort of behaviour before!
wasn't even lunch time yet!
Charters Towers boar on my last hunting trip. He
It wasn't long before another boar came ambling
The property is so immense that it can take hours
weighed over 100 kgs and his tusks measured 28
along, I was more in the open this time and
to get where you're going and Aaron wanted to
6/8 Douglas points. This was a great pig no matter
crouched down. Every time the pig looked up I'd
hunt a certain swamp in the afternoon. When we
what way you looked at it! My bow was an entry
freeze and every time his head was down and
were close he cut the engine and we rolled to a
level Reflex Game Getter set at 60 lbs and
stop, thus avoiding squealing brakes, I'll remem-
my arrows consisted of carbon fiber shafts
ber that one! Aaron said the swamp is about 500
tipped with 125 grain Bone Breaker
metres down the track but we'll have lunch first.
When we reached the swamp it was a hunter's
We loaded everything into the Hilux
heaven! Huge hogs everywhere! I'd guess there
and headed off in a different direction
were a 100 or more pigs munching away in the
this morning. We were heading
shallows. One boar really stood out though as
towards another group of
he had a huge boof head and a really curled
swamps which Aaron has
upper lip. This fella was to be our target, and as
seen large boars fre-
luck would have it he was moving off the swamp
quenting. Along the
towards us. He was no more than 30 metres
way we encountered
away when it was time for him to meet his maker.
several groups of
One shot and that was it, and caused little or no
pigs but nothing
commotion on the swamp with most of the pigs
that really stood
going back to feeding.
out. Just short
Racing over to my trophy it was soon evident that
of the swamp
this pig was past his prime. Aaron pointed out
we rolled to
that both tusks had over an inch broken off each
a stop and
tip. He would easily have reached 30 Douglas
points in his heyday but he still measured 27
I readied the
6/8 Douglas points when measured back at the
bow and we
house. Wow what a day! It was late in the after-
feeding I would close in. At 15 metres he was
wanted to check out another swamp where he had
broadside to me and I came to full draw steadied
seen several nice boars on the week before - it's a
160 metres away and the watchful sows were very close. They're clever bitches, they knew
and released. This shot was no way as good as
hard life for some!
something was odd with that "bush". They would
the first but it must have nicked the top of both
We approached from down wind and as usual
pretend to go back to feeding to quickly lift their
lungs. He took off into the surrounding scrub leav-
there were hundreds of pigs mooching around in
heads to try and catch me out - buggers! In the
ing a nice blood trail. We gave him a few minutes
the mud. The largest boar had made himself a
end they winded me and were off in all directions.
and then followed up, it didn't take Aaron long to
nest in the middle of the swamp and only the top
I thought the boar would be up and off too, but he
find him. The pig had traveled no more than 80
of his back was showing. The problem was going
just lay there with only the top of his back visible.
metres and was lying in the middle of a well used
to be getting past the ever present "sentry sows".
I jumped to my feet and ran full tilt to the waters
pad. Yahoo, I was having a blast!
I felt this was a rifle scenario and started making
edge 50 metres away. With 10 to go the pig must
After the usual post mortem activities, photos
my way across the open ground. I'd halved the
and the taking of tusks we were off again. Aaron
distance quite quickly, the big guy was perhaps
have heard the commotion of the others departing and stood up. In no time flat I'd stopped, cocked a round into the Remington, aimed and fired. BOOM! He never knew what hit him he just collapsed straight back down where he came from! I removed my boots and slowly moved out into the ankle deep water, (no crocs here!) in fact the mud was twice as deep. I dragged the heavy brute to the bank to set him up for some pictures then removed his bottom jaw. Another fine hog! By the time all our work was done, pigs were starting to re-emerge from the surrounding scrub, what an amazing place! On the way back to the house Aaron wanted to check out one small water hole which he had only discovered recently. We parked 500 metres down wind and stalked up to the bank and looked in.
I suppose it was no surprise there was another
permanent rivers and do several stalks. Aaron had
on our way. (Accredited score went 29 Douglas
large boar camped up. Aaron shouted "Ohhy
seen quite a few large boars earlier in the week.
pig!" And he sprung to his feet. He only made it
Day three and I was hungry for that elusive 30
The track turned away from the river and we came
a couple of metres and skidded to a halt at the
pointer. This time the Rifle was in the back and
into a large grassy area. Aaron stopped and point-
waters edge, the Remington doing its job. We set
the bow traveled with me up front. My Broadheads
ed to two pigs ambling though the knee high grass
this bloke up for a few pictures but unfortunately
were razor sharp and at the ready.
"stick an arrow in the second runty fella" They
he had one broken tusk, he was still a nice big
I was just sitting back and enjoying the early
stopped at 25 metres and I released hitting the
morning air when Aaron suddenly stopped nearly
mark, the pig collapsing on the spot never to move
We had a good hours drive back to the house
sending me through the windscreen. He just
again. We slowly moved over and I jumped for
which seemed to fly as we were both telling tall
pointed out my window and there no more than
joy, another toothy bastard! I know you can never
stories and jokes, Aaron was good company
25 metres away was a huge black boar rooting
really tell when the tusks are in the jaw but both of
which I think is equally as important as knowing
in the soft soil. He made no attempted to escape
the morning sets looked promising! After the ritual
when I quietly slipped out of the Hilux. I knocked
of photos and jaw removal we headed back to the
That evening whilst devouring another one of
an arrow and took aim and as soon as he turned
house for lunch. (This boar surprisingly only went
Naomi's magnificent meals we decided that first up
full broad side I let him have it! The arrow flew
27 2/8 as they were very short in the jaw).
tomorrow we would drive along one of the many
straight and passed straight through his lungs. The
In the afternoon we were going to hunt towards
big brute wasted no time trying to get out
the front of the property and it was on the only
of there and crossed the track and headed
decent boar for the afternoon that Aaron stared
towards the river. Luckily for me he only
with my camera! We found a large boar just
made it 40 metres before expiring.
mooching around in a water hole all by his lone-
Aaron and I gave him a couple of minutes
some. Bow time again, it was a rewarding stalk
and then raced over; he was a magnifi-
every time the boar put his head under water
cent animal with a huge amount of tusk
I moved closer. I made it to the 10 meter mark
protruding from his lower jaw, could this
when I eventually released. The arrow flew
be my "30"? Unfortunately the photos
straight and passed through his chest and with a
don't do him justice, he was a monster!
"huff" he exploded out of the water and took off
We removed his lower jaw and proceeded
for cover! Whilst waiting Aaron said "take a look at this mate!" He had taken a great series of pictures and what's more, on the last frame he captured my arrow in flight. All we had to do now was find the boar. This proved to be easy as there was a great blood trail. He was dead when we reached him about 60 metres away. I was having the best hunt ever! Heaps of pigs were seen on the way back to the homestead but nothing that yelled out "30 Douglas points!" So we just enjoyed the drive and looked
forward to another huge dinner, I'm sure I've died
time so I opted for the Remington. The wind was
and brought the rifle. Aaron and I walked single
and gone to heaven!
swirling quite a bit and I had to zigzag through the
file into the cattle yards. We both noticed move-
After a great night's sleep and a long breakfast
open ground. There was very little cover and the
ment off to our right at the same time and squatted
Aaron and I loaded ourselves into the Hilux for
ever present sentry sows were always on there
down. It was a large boar and we were stuck in
the last day of my stay. I could not believe that
toes! Eventually the only thing that separated
the open yards. He must have thought we looked
three days had already passed. Up to this point I
the boar and me was a strip of swamp about 40
odd because he just kept walking towards us. At
had arrowed and shot 17 boars (and one unlucky
metres wide. I sat down and watched him through
10 metres I'd had enough and let him have the full
sow, but we won't talk about that one!) Today we
my binos. "Yep, he's a good one!" When he deliv-
fury of the 30.06 and down he went. What a way
were just going to revisit a few of the swamps
ered a nice broad side shot I took it and he just
to end a trip!
and water holes from the first couple of days. We
dropped where he stood. The other pigs moved
Never in my life have I ever experienced a hunt-
had a fairly quiet morning and completed a few
off slowly but not overly concerned about my pres-
ing haven like this, or the fabulous hospitality of
long stalks but unfortunately nothing appeared
ence. I walked around the swamp and pulled him
Aaron and his family. On leaving the following
that looked over "30".
to the waters edge. He was in great condition,
morning I had already penciled into his diary for
After our packed lunch we visited a large swamp.
around 80 kgs in weight and great tusks, not "30's"
next year. Unfortunately that was not meant to be
Aaron parked in the shadows and we glassed the
but definitely in the high 20's!
as the owners of the station had sold up and the
area carefully. Within half an hour a large mob
After photo's and jaw removal we stared to make
new owners have decided not to continue with the
moved into the shallows at the far end. We sat
our way back home. Aaron had one last place he
hunting operation at this stage.
quietly and just watched. We didn't have to wait
wanted to check and as we pulled up down wind
I know one thing! If the place ever opens up again,
long for a large boar to break cover and start
of the old bore tank and cattle yards a large mob
I'll be the first one on their list!
messing with the local lady folk.
of pigs was spotted. With light failing and this
There was too much open ground to cover this
being my last opportunity I took the easy way out
Rifle used on this hunt: Remington 7600 Pump Action .30/06, with synthetic Stock.
Top Right: Steve from Ayr nailed these 2 top boars. Above: Scott Redgrove NSW. Right: Rob De Petro,first boar shot while on his first trip to the Cape,useing a STIR .308 with Remington core - Lokt 180 grn bullets. Below: Karl Goodhand took this boar with a 30/30 Marlin.
Top: Trent Robinson shot these great boars in the NT. Bottom: Anthony Stevens used a .270 Weatherby Stainless up the Cape
Top: Trent Robinson. Bottom: Rob De Petra.
I RECENTLY WENT ON A WILD PIG SAFARI NEAR KATHERINE, NORTHERN TERRITORY, WITH GLENN GIFFIN FROM MUCKADILLA SAFARIS, IT WAS THE BEST FIVE DAYS I HAVE SPENT ANYWHERE. We spent the first day looking around
big boar making his way to the bait.
then right behing them another mob
the property for pig signs, with Glen
He was very cagey and took his time
of 14 pigs…pigs everywhere. When
also laying donkey baits at the most
coming in, looking our way several
they settled I dropped the largest pig
promising locations. After a day, we
times. When he had settled, I slowly
and then all hell broke loose, there
checked the baits for sign of activity.
picked up my .308 and took aim. I
where pigs running everywhere. I'm
One location had been hit hard with
hit him on the point above the front
sorry to say the moment got to me
tracks everywhere, so we built a hide
shoulder and he just flopped down
and I only shot two more…what an
downwind of the bait and returned an
and layed still. It would have been
hour before dark. We had been wait-
ten minutes when we saw more pigs
ing thirty minutes when we spotted a
approaching. We counted 16 pigs and
STORY & PHOTOS BY BOB WEST
In July, 2003, while on a hunting trip up
Nick stopped the 4WD.
North, I revisited a property that I was
spotted a mob of pigs wallow-
first introduced to in 2002, with by guide
in the water so we took our positions. I
paused near a tree, fired and it was
Nick, who runs NC Hunting.
was sighted on a boar to my right about
down too. Meanwhile, the boar that I
It was a good trip so far, as I had man-
100 metres, I squeezed the trigger of
had wounded was trying to crawl away
aged to bag 35 decent pigs and had
my Ruger 220 swift, the 55g projectile
by dragging his back end, so I went
even caught, bare-handed, a one metre
found its mark; this boar's lights were
around to the other side of the lagoon
crocodile in the river next to our camp.
out. The other pigs were bolting across
and put one in the heart area which fin-
For days Nick was talking about visiting
the lagoon so I ran to the waters edge
ished him. When Nick and I were cut-
the 'oasis', and said how we should go
and used a white-ant nest for support,
ting the jaws out of the two boars, a sow
there because it always had heaps of
I took aim at one pig in the water and
came out of the long grass, about 50
pigs. Mid afternoon of the fourth day,
fired, he was down. By then the other
metres away, slowly I got the 220 swift
we headed towards the oasis, which
pigs were just getting out of the other
out of the 4WD, took aim and she was
was good going until Nick went off the
side, I fired again at another boar, which
down, that was an easy one. Coming to
track into a huge open paddock, then
only made him stop. His mate next to
the oasis was a good six pigs, three of
the going was first gear, and very rough.
him, another decent boar, stopped and
them boars, unfortunately we had to get
I said to Nick, "There's nothing out
turned looking towards me. By then I
moving and head back because the sun
here!?" All you could see for miles was
was loaded and I aimed a little above
was going down. On this trip I was able
big open space, after a while I could
his head. I was looking around 250 to
to bag a total 66 decent pigs!
see trees, then water; it was a small
300 metres, I fired the 220 swift again,
lagoon with a cluster of trees next to it.
this old bastard boar was also down, I
had hit him between the eyes (Bloody good shot!) I then took aim at a pig
Story & Photographs by Pierce Spychiger
Left: Day Four, late afternoon, the author shot three boars and one sow. Making a run, this boar was the first easy 100 plus metres with a Ruger 220 Swift, 55g bullet. Opposite Page: These two boars were shot from the other side of the lagoon, with the first boar being wounded, this caused the second to pause, giving the author the opportunity to hit his target straight above the eyes.
John Rupic used a Sako .30/06 to take this impressive Cape York Scrub Bull.
This would have to be one of the most unique looking Bulls seen, check the head out on this scrubber, taken by a young Matt Hall, in the Northern Territory.
Another top quality Scrub Bull shot by Matt Hall.
Introducing the Leupold RX Series Digital Laser Rangefinders, the first smart rangefinder for hunters. All four models in the new RX Series are packed with multiple, customizable functions. These are much more than glorified tape measures. Part of what makes these the first smart rangefinders for hunters is TRUE BALLISTIC RANGE. The True Ballistic Range™ will make a huge impact on your accuracy, giving you a much more accurate measurement than the straight-line distance to your target. No rangefinder does so much to help you make the shot of a lifetime. The RX uses an inclinometer to measure up and down hill shots, coupled with the ballistics of your projectile to give you the equivalent horizontal range, and for rifle hunters, a holdover/holdunder point or a MOA (The minute of angle of elevation to adjust your riflescope for precise zero). With all of the following features: the Match 13™ Reticle System™, Multiple environmental modes to overcome virtually any condition, Measurements in feet, yards and metres, Temperature readings in Celsius or Fahrenheit and the Quick Set Rotary Menu™ with digital signal processing to guide you quickly and easily through it all, to call this the 'First Smart Rangefinder' is an understatement. MULTIPLE BALLISTIC SETTINGS (TRUE BALLISTIC RANGE - TBR) Part of what makes the Leupold RX Series the first smart rangefinder for hunters is True Ballistic Range. RX rangefinders are the only rangefinder to provide accurate aiming information matched to the performance of your rifle or bow. By calculating the incline, line of sight range to the target, and a projectile ballistics, your RX provides rifle hunters using Leupold BAS Reticle as well as bow hunters the correct equivalent horizontal distance for precise shooting on an incline. Dial in your RX to one of seven TBR™ ballistic settings for the rifle and three for the bow for incredible accuracy. (TBR is effective to 800 yards for most rifle cartridges).
THE MATCH 13 RETICLE SYSTEM Another customizable feature of your RX rangefinder is the Match 13 Reticle System. Tailoring your reticle to terrain and game you're hunting, ensuring you will have the right Reticle for whatever and wherever you hunt or shoot.
Plus Point - varmints and small target
MULTIPLE MODES With the RX series you can do something you can't do with any other rangefinder; use multiple modes at once to tailor your readings to the conditions, such as hunting Whitetail in the rain. Use Rain Mode with 1st Target Mode at the same time, giving you the most accurate range possible. A Quick Set Rotary Menu gives you fast access to all the incredible performances, such as:
Duplex Reticle - Familiar to everyone with a riflescope, with or without point plus.
Bracket Circle Duplex - Bolder aiming for low-light/ low-contract situations. Bracket Square Duplex - Provides bold contrast for low light. Bracket Square - Offers easy aiming on 3D targets and game for archers. Bracket Circle - Brackets small game, 3D targets and game at 40 yards, great choice for muzzleloaders. German #4 - Another classic favourite, offers bold aiming and freedom from obstructions in the upper half of the field of view.
A precision magnetic inductor compass. Declination Setting. CompassTilt Compensation. Long Range Mode,Rain Mode, !st Target Mode, Last Target Mode. Measurements in feet, yards and centimetres, Celsius/ Fahrenheit temperature readings. Line of Sight Distance. One handed controls, Clicking fastfocus eyepiece. Incredibly accurate ranging to within +/- one yard accuracy at all ranges. Battery power indicator.
THE SERIES Leupold has a laser rangefinder to meet the needs of every hunter, from the RB800C laser range finding binocular to the world's first smart digital rangefinder for hunters, four models of the new RX Series. Each is rugged and waterproof, and offers a level of high technology combined with high usability that makes it superior to every other rangefinder in its class.
The Asiatic Water Buffalo is the big-
Asiatic Buffalo is bigger that its cou-
gest game that Australia has to offer,
sion the African Cape Buffalo. It is not
with prime bulls weighing up to 750-
until you see these animals in the flesh
800kgs, some over the 1000kg. The
that you really begin to appreciate
their enormity. Buffalo were released
spreading throughout the Northern
into the top end of the Northern
Territory this big animal was to take a
Territory in 1824 where they thrived on
turn for the worse. With the scare of
the Floodplains and Eucalyptus timber
T.B,, Eradication programs took place
scrub and generated into great num-
in the 1980's, where thousands upon
thousands of Buffalo were destroyed Well established and in strong
numbers, although the Buffalo was
and left to rot on the ground. Entire herds were wiped out overnight, some
said the Water Buffalo would never
dangers that hunters bring. They pos-
survive such a mass cull, but, this great
sess incredible sight and hearing, and
animal has soldiered on and built its
will detect you in no time. The Buffalo
self up into good numbers once again,
has an acute sense of smell, with the
with trophy Bulls still to be taken in
ability to smell water miles and miles
these present days of hunting.
away. Once they have the hunters
Do not mistake the Buffalo for
sent, they will pin point his exact loca-
'easy game', this animal has been hunt-
tion. The Asiatic Water Buffalo will
ed hard and they are very aware of the
test your hunting skills.
mal is Dangerous Game, and should be taken to with great
More often than not, the Buffalo will run when danger is present, but, in the event that you have a wounded
Buff, or staunch Bull that is going to take
be very difficult to effectively penetrate.
charge, remember this, an animal as big as
So the choice of large calibre guns is a
the Buffalo will have a lot of aggression
must for this game. Anything under would
and adrenalin built up, and will take a lot
be foolish and most importantly unethi-
to stop and bring down before he gets
cal. PH belive minium cal. is the .338win
to you.With a thick, tough hide; layer upon
mag.Most popular round is the .375H&H.
layer of mass muscle and the added large
Guides use .458 and up depending on
bone structure, the Buffalo's vitals will
Story & Photography by Vic Attard
Editor - Wild Boar Australia
I was invited by the lads from Arafura Wilderness Lodge to come up and hunt Buffalo, a hunt I couldâ€™t knock back. As we flew over Darwin, I glanced out of the window of the plane into the darkness of the night. All I could see was trails of fires everywhere. I counted 11 different fires, some kilometres long, others in rings of circles. Darkness and big red flames all over, for a moment I thought I was entering HELL, but it was just the annual burning of land done by the traditional owners. Day one of our hunt saw us hunting in 'Rock Escarpment Country', to best describe the
layout of the land is rocks and big boulders everywhere, with rock mounds plotted here and there, and lightly timbered with gum trees and grass. Walking through this terrain I just didn't think Buffalo would roam these grounds, being so rocky, but, scanning the ground you could see the low patches of grass eaten by the buffalo, reassured me they were there. Three hours into the hunt saw us walking into a ravine, when Tony quickly stopped and pointed to our right. Buffalo, and only 30 metres from us. We backtracked about ten metres behind a rock mound, where we could see that there were around 25 buffalo grazing
just on the other side of the rock mound, which provided excellent cover. Cautiously and slowly we climbed the rock mound and peered over the top, I was within 20 metres from the buff, looking down over them all, I quickly scanned the herd looking for the dominate bull. Nothing, all that could be made were cows and calves and a few immature bulls. With no game here worth taking, I sat and watched the herd graze. Being so close I could hear the animals breathe and eat, you could see how big an animal they really are, 20 metres off and it is a real rush and an experience to remember. One of the cows
got wind of us and the herd bolted, now I can tell you the ground rumbled, it felt like you were in Africa in the middle of a stampede. The tremor shook my whole body, looking around at the others, I was mind blown by the whole experience. We decided to walk back to the 'Troopie' to try for new grounds; we inspected the numerous rub trees and dust wallow used by the buffalo. Trekking along, we all simultaneously hit the deck. Eighty metres in front of us, and walking closer towards us, was a magnificent Bull Buffalo. The creature was huge, and instantly I could tell he spread a big, thick mass of horns. We were all taken by his shear size and instantly there was an incredibly intense feeling in the air.
With no time to waste, I scanned the surroundings; you could see the game trail on which the big bull was on and to where it was heading to. The path veered off to my right side, to where the bull would pass by at around 40 metres. Just in front of me lay a dry creek bed. I thought if I could get into the creek bed it would provide me with excellent cover, where more ground could be gained for a spot where I could sit and wait for the bull to cross at around 18 metres, giving me a good close shot. With the bull at 70 metres, I had to move fast, but with caution, even though the creek was only ten metres away, the dry leaf matter made this going very hard. Once in the creek, and a quick peek to view
the bulls path, then I made my way along to the point where the animal would cross and give me a good shot at both lungs. At 50 metres and unaware of my presence, I watched this mighty big buffalo close the gap, with every step magnifying his massive size. Now at 35 metres, the wind was dead still and there wasn't a sound to be heard. The big bull put a oray of intense fear and excitement into the air. The adrenalin that was pumping through my body was incredible; I could hear a thumping noise .It was the pulse in my neck. I wiped my brow which was full of sweat and then gripped the 45/70 tighter and tighter. Suddenly, the bull propped at just 25 metres, and instantly took steps back and scented the airâ€Śhe was onto me. With one more whiff of the air he had my location pin pointed and I could see the glare in his eye as he turned and disappeared into the bush. I was shattered
and bitterly disappointed at missing this incredible buffalo. Even though the bull was only 25 yards off, there was too many branches in the way and a good clean shot wasn't present and the shot couldn't be taken. He was gone, and that's "HUNTINGâ€?! But I will never forget the remarkable feeling that that animal put through my mind and body. It is what we live forâ€Ś.. tomorrow will be another day. The sun broke from the horizon as were up early to go and hunt on the vast flood plains. As we crossed over one of the game pads, evidence of fresh buffalo prints lay on the pad. We decided to track the prints which led to the paperbark trees. As we approached the trees we stopped and glassed the area, through to the other side of the trees and then onto the floodplains, and that is where we spotted the buffalo, eight of them. I glassed over the
big bull in the herd which was very big in body sized and also held good thick horns. A check of the wind and we planned the stalk to the edge of the timberline, a quick check with the range finder reported us at 140 metres of the bull. I bellied crawled the next 20 metres to 117 metres from him, and that's as far as I could go. Bringing the 45/70 up, and aiming two inches higher of my mark, I squeezed off. The bull took the hit, not moving an inch. Then, slowly he turned to face the trees, but he had been hit good and with a tremendous amount of blood billowing from his nostrils, he then fell on the spot. I sat at him for awhile taking in his shear size and mass. With all the appropriate photos being taken, he was then field dressed out. I took note of the bullets path as we cut into the animal. The Bull was hit just on the crease off his shoulder, taking out both lungs. Then passing into the opposite shoulder smashing
through the big bone of the shoulder and muscle, stopping about 2inchs short from exit of his hide. Distance travelled 117 meters. With the bull not even running from the spot the bullet worked incredable well. It was good feeling to sit around the campfire that night and reliving the days events. The next couple of days saw us hunting in different terrains, seeing some spectacular landscape and wildlife. Several stalks were made on buffalo herds, in which each there was an event to be told and remembered. Finally, it was the last day and we had been hunting all day with no buffalo taken, with only one hour of light remaining; we were to try one last spot, which was to pay off. Glassing the tall timber gums, my eyes zeroed in on buff…”good buff”! There was only 30 minutes of light remaining so I quickly grabbed the 45/70 and briskly jogged toward the buffalo. As I neared to around 100metres of the buffalo he turned and slowly walked into semi-dense scrub, not what I really needed with the fading light and all. I pushed on and
as I exited where the bull was last seen, I picked up his prints on a game pad, which was good for awhile until the pad split off into three different directions. His tracks could be just made out so I carried on picking up the pace, and then there he was, 70 metres in front and turning broadside. There was a small ridge in the direction the buffalo was heading. I took a chance and headed straight towards it, it paid off, with me taking the short cut and him taking the long way. The tide had turned and I was now in front. Sitting at the base of a tree, I waited and tried to catch my breath. It wasn't long before I could see the bull walking in, he would pass close and the ambush was set. But the going got better and better, suddenly, I doubled up. I don't know from where, but another bull with a good rack was following only 20 yards behind the first bull. I sat motionless as the first bull passed by me only 15 yards off….things were a little close for comfort and thinking this camo better bloody work cause
EDITORS NOTE:….This story is only a fraction of the many exciting days spent hunting this magnificent animal. This Buffalo hunt provided me with many exciting memorys and some of the best adrenalin hunting I have ever experienced so far. I learnt a lot from hunting the buffalo, I am by no means an
if it don't, I'v got a funny feeling I won't be in to good of state to take it back for a refund. .Waiting for the right moment, I stepped up at the base of the tree, and swung the 45/70 onto the lead bull; he turned and looked at me, firing at 20 yards he dropped on the spot. I quickly swung on to the other buffalo at 25 yards and sent a 350 grain slug into his shoulder, quickly reloading and fireing a second shot putting an end to him. Two great buffalo not even 20 yards from each other, it was hard to describe the moment, but ecstatic is definitely one word I would use. I radioed the boys and they came in with the jeep, now dark, we set the two bulls up side by side for some photos. What a way to finish a fantastic six day hunt. The next buffalo hunt could not come fast enough!
‘Expert’ on this game, but would fully recommend hunting the Buffalo if ever the opportunity arises for you. It's a hunt you will never forget. P.S. the camo worked very well! GUN USED : MARLIN 45/70 open sights AMMO : PMC factory loads 350gr soft nose.
PHOTOS OF ALL GAME WANTED. BUFFALO PIGS SCRUB BULL DEER ALL GAME SEND ALL MATERIAL TO WILD BOAR AUSTRALIA, PO BOX 10126 MT PLEASANT QLD 4740.
WIN a RXIII Digital Laser Rangefinder from Leupold. See details on page 39.
Below: Jason with his bowshot Buffalo, taken at 35 metres.
Left Horn length 54.5 '', Right Horn length 53.25'', Tip to Tip 9.87 Feet. Experts estimate 50 grooves equals approximately 50 years old. Shot in August 1981, a World Record then, and certified from S.C.I.
Above: Photo supplied by Glen Giffin.
Above: John Teitzel from Tully, bowed this Buffalo in the Northern Territory
Above: BOB TOOK THIS MASSIVE BULL BUFFALO WITH A MUZZLE LOADER RIFLE.
uddenly a large pair of antlers came into sight, moving slowly up the hill right beside me. Seeing three on one side top and a good mass on the other, at 30 meters my finger slowly stroked the trigger. For me, the Holy Grail of deer hunting is a double six, or twelve point red stag and a fallow stag well in excess of 200 Douglas points. Dad and I were at a friend's property in the Brisbane Valley hunting one of those elusive quarries. Driving through the dilapidated old front gate, Dad remarked that the weather didn't look too good. The sky was dark and ominous, a fresh breeze was blowing in from the southeast, and it looked like rain. Isn't it always the way though! The weather had been good right up until the day we left home. The mighty red stags had been roaring night and day, right up until last night, and then quietened down. Deciding to get in an afternoon hunt, we pulled the Toyota up near a patch of scrub and quickly donned our hunting clothes. The spur didn't look too bad from the truck. But by the time that we reached the first saddle, wet with perspiration, we realized just how steep it was. Taking it easy, now that we were in pretty good looking country, we slowly edged forward sticking to a deer trail that followed the edge of the mountain about a third of the way down. Dad gave a little whistle to get my attention and pointed to a couple of small trees that had been severely thrashed by a stag. Nodding, I held my nose and raised my head, indicating that I could smell fresh stag. As Dad nodded back we both froze as a low growl wafted up from the dark gully below.
Sitting down we waited. Twice more the stag roared, but only a halfhearted roar. Then the swirling wind came up behind us and probably pushed our scent down to him. No more sounds came up from the depths below. I gave a couple of roars but to no avail. Heading back, the guttural bark of a hind stopped us. Knowing that the wind had once more given us away, we dropped over onto another spur and headed back to the truck. Arriving back to the saddle at the top of the first spur it was nearly dark. Agreeing that the Toyota would probably be able to climb up to where we were. It was decided that I would walk down, get the truck and have a go at driving up to the saddle while the old fella waited and shone my little torch to show me the way. Hope there's some young bugger to run around after me when I get older. Hearing the bullbar bouncing off stumps and the tires crunching over logs and trees, the old man was probably worrying a bit about his truck. The hill was that steep the headlights were shining up at the stars and I couldn't see shit, only my torch that dad was waving franticly. Eventually making it to the saddle, we set up a rough camp and cooked tea before settling down for the night. That night the rain started to come in. It not only dampened our spirits, it must have stopped the stags from roaring too as we never heard a sound all
night. Slopping around in the wet the next day was not fun so we decided to try another spot in the afternoon and then head off if the weather hadn't eased. That afternoon found us sneaking slowly along just below a ridge top, being careful not to skyline ourselves. Dad put the old cow-horn to his mouth and gave a couple of loud roars then I gave a few. Taking it in turns roaring, we slowly moved along the ridge. Suddenly Dad grabbed my shoulder and pointed. Coming down the mountain on the other side of the valley was what looked to be a good stag? The wind and rain blowing from us right across to the other mountain most likely took the sound from our roars right across to him and this stag was coming down towards us at the run. It was decided that I would sneak down the hill a little bit while Dad kept on roaring him in. Setting myself up in a good spot I waited, listening to the old man roaring and hoping that the stag would
Main Picture: Brenton Mitchell with a true wild, Queensland Red Stag.
Author with a great fallow buck, check those palons out! Inset Pic : Camp site in the magnificent, lush ranges...campfire, watching the stars & listening to the roar of the stags. Opposite Page, Below: Author and father, with another top red deer taken.
come right in. Suddenly a pair of antlers came into sight, moving slowly up the hill right beside me. Seeing three on one side top and a good mass on the other, at 30 meters my finger slowly stroked the trigger. CLICK! What a bloody loud click. The stag instantly spun and looked toward me. Quickly chambering a round and firing, the mighty monarch dropped at the shot. Getting to him I was a little disappointed as I thought he was a royal when in fact he only had eleven points, the twelfth being just a blade where it was starting to form. Dad came down and congratulated me, taking a few photos before the hard work of capeing and butchering him.
E_________________D Just two weeks after this successful trip to red deer country. I could hardly believe my ears when Dad phoned to tell me his mate from down south had rang to tell him that there was a monstrous fallow stag hanging around his neighbors property where he had some fallow does behind wire. He had seen him two or three times, and there was a good chance I might get a crack at him if I went down right away. He was a pretty cunning old buck and was pretty flighty, so I would have to have my wits about me if I was to get a shot at him. While
Dad was telling me this I had most of my gear packed. I would knock off work tomorrow and take the bolt. All day at work my mind was wondering if I would even get to see this stag, and if I did, how big would it really be? As, at times, some people tend to stretch the truth a bit. My Dad and I have seen some pretty good stags down there from time to time, but only one or two that would go better than the magic two hundred Douglas points. Arriving at the hut that we stay in, I unpacked my gear then rustled up something to eat. Lying on my bunk that night, my mind was working overtime conjuring up giant fallow stags. Come morning, meeting up with Dad's mate, Allan, we set off early. Arriving at the neighbors, we wandered slowly towards the place where he kept the does. Looking across the hill Allan pointed and whispered, "There he is!" Looking to where he was pointing I spotted the stag. "Bloody hell!" I whispered to Allan. "He's a bloody monster." The only way to get near him was to head around a hill and come out above him where I could hopefully get a shot at him. Sneaking quietly around the side of the hill I spotted a cow that took one look, then taking an instant dislike to
me took off right toward where the stag should have been. Would you believe every other cow within sight must have thought, "Wait for me." Then took off after it. It was like a stampede you see in the movies. They all ran over the hill and right toward the stag, so he just naturally took off with them. Getting back to where Allan was waiting, he reckoned that we wouldn't see him again this morning but with a bit of luck he might be back in the afternoon. Feeling somewhat dejected I dropped Allan off at his house and went back to the hut. After eating I tried my hand at a bit of cod fishing. The fishing wasn't too good. I tossed plenty of lures only catching one small cod. The fish just didn't seem to be in a biting mood. My mind wandered back to the stag. If only I can get a shot at him this afternoon. He was in full rut and it was only cattle running that had scared him so I figured that I had a good chance. That afternoon I picked up Allan's son Ben, as Allan had to work so Ben came along for the ride. Getting to the property reasonably late in the afternoon, we were poking along slowly when next thing we spotted the stag down near the does. He was strutting majestically, low grunts were emitting from his big bull neck and
his massive antlers looked like a monstrous crown upon his head. He was at least two hundred and fifty metres away and there was a fence between him and me. Getting myself into a position for a shot and knowing it would be risky, as hitting a strand of wire could prove disastrous, I also knew the wind was all wrong for a stalk and I didn't want a repeat of the morning. Lying down, the grass was in the way. So standing and taking a lean and a few deep breaths, I waited for him to walk into the clear. It was as if he knew something was wrong, as he stayed partially hidden from me behind a couple of fence posts. Waiting patiently I wondered if I would get a chance at him before he either decided to bolt, or the light failed. YES! Slowly he walked from behind cover and stopped, his head turning this way then that and his ears swiveling like radar antenna, I could see his shoulder. It was now or never. Slowly closing the bolt and squeezing the trigger I felt the jolt of the 30.06 as a 150-grain Tiapan projectile headed on its way. The stag staggered and turned around as I heard the solid thump of the hit. Not knowing how badly he was hit, I quickly chambered another round, sighted, and then
fired again. This time seeing the stag hit the ground. I waited patiently for a while to make sure he wasn't going to get up. No, not a movement, he was mine! Getting back to the truck we managed to drive right to him. We were surprised to see that I had hit him center of the shoulder with the first shot, and nearly in the same place on the other side with the second shot. "Great shot," said Ben, "he was a long way." I was wrapped. He was a beauty all right, with long fingers shooting up from his palms plus really long thick beams. Had his palms not been cleft he would have measured more. But who cares. I like him just as he is. Unofficially he has been measured three times from 218 5/8, to 220 2/8. I like the last measurement best, but don't really care, as he is my trophy, and he will take pride of place on my wall. The light was failing fast, so after a quick photo session we loaded him into the back of the Toyota and took him out whole. No sense wasting anything. Next would come the tiresome process of capeing and dressing him out. The first thing dad said when he saw him was, "Shit, I would have gone down
myself if I thought it would be that big. Congratulations son." The only bad thing about shooting a stag this big is that it will be a long long time before I see another stag worthy of taking a place on my wall.
The months rolled on, it was almost October and time to prepare for our trip north to Cape York to dog some good quality cape boars.
UNFORTUNATELY MY HUNTING PARTNER ROB WASN'T ABLE TO MAKE THE TRIP THIS YEAR DUE TO WORK COMMITMENTS SO ANOTHER MATE JOHN JUMPED IN FOR THE TRIP. I HAVE BEEN DOGGING PIGS FOR 25 YEARS AND NOTHING BEATS A TRIP TO THE CAPE. THIS WILL BE JOHN'S FIRST TRIP TO THE CAPE AND WE CANNOT WAIT TO GET CRACKING. I have made the trip to Cape York a dozen times before to hunt so I have a fair idea as to what to take and what not to take. Travel as light as you can but at no stage should you compromise your safety or wellbeing and the same goes for your dogs. After a few telephone calls to the property owners for updates on the weather, road conditions and pig numbers it was time for John and I to start packing the Toyota Landcruiser for the 35 hour drive that awaited us. Due to the length of the trip all compartments of the dog cage had a bucket of water cable tied to the side of the cage as well as canvas pillows filled with straw to ease the hardness of the tray on the dogs' bodies. My dad once said to me when I was a kid "Mike if you look after your dogs they will look after you son". How right he was! I run a 6 year old Bullmastiff x Dane bitch (Tiyce Bred) named
Joe, she finds and is a good hard bitch. This will be her sixth trip to the Cape. I also run a 14 month old Bully/Greyhound Tess, who is just starting to hit her straps and has the makings to be the best bitch I've had. John runs a 15 month Bull Arab male named Rocco who has been on a number of pigs in the mountains and a 10 month old Bull Arab bitch named Dutchie who has also been on a number of pigs in the mountains. We plan to give the younger dogs as much experience as possible to enable them to grow into handy working dogs. Tuesday morning rolled around and it was time to load up my dogs, drive around to Johns, pick him and his dogs up and begin our journey up to Cape York. After three and a bit days driving we finally reached our destination, meet up with our mates, who we had not seen for about 9 months. We then got the latest updates on pig numbers and headed out to our camp site. On arrival at camp we let the dogs out of the cage gave them a stretch and tethered them in the shade with water, whilst we unpacked the Landcruiser and set up camp. Due to the fact it was October and the weather around 40 degrees we waited for it to cool down before heading out for a hunt. Styles of hunting in the Cape vary depending on the season and temperature. You cannot run dogs in the heat of the day in this country without putting your dog's life in grave danger. Many a top dog has been overheated and died in Northern Queensland and we were going to do the best we could to avoid this situation. As with previous trips to Cape York we would run the dogs on sight from the Landcruiser from about five thirty in the morning
Above: John with one of the good boars caught on the trip.
to around nine o'clock. This would ensure that we would run
era and I took off to stick the pig. Joe and Rocco had a good
into some good boars out and about before they went to water
boar held firmly by each ear. I quickly grabbed the boar by the
and then to bed up for the day. During the afternoon it was too
back leg and stuck him. We looked at each other and smiled
hot to hunt with the dogs so we spent most of the time talking
our first good boar for the trip. Gave Joe and Rocco the once
about pigs, dogs, knives and jaws (what a life!). During the late
over, no cuts or scratches and took out the bottom jaw. Over
afternoon we would head off around five thirty and hunt till it
the next hour and a half we managed to catch another two
got dark usually around seven.
As it began to cool down we plated up the dogs. I have been
The sun had almost set and it was time to head back to camp.
using Tuskproof Ultimate Breastplates for a number of years
The following morning we headed out about five thirty and it
and to Sharon's credit they have provided my dogs with sound
wasn't too long and we were on again. Tess and Joe caught
protection. We filled the water bucket up on the back of the
a good boar by a water hole and a short time later Rocco and
truck, turned on the GPS as it had all the hot spots from pre-
Dutchie caught one out in the open. This trend continued for
vious years and headed out for our first hunt since arriving.
the next three or so days. Monday afternoon we headed out,
About fifteen minutes from camp we saw our first pig about
the plan was to drive slowly around a good size lagoon hoping
one hundred meters in front of us. I stuck the boot in the
to put up a boar on the way to wallow. We were almost around
Cruiser to get as close to the pig as possible. It was a good
the lagoon and I was thinking to myself we might have a miss
boar. John let Joe and Rocco out of the cage and within about
for the first time since arriving and then all of a sudden to my
fifty meters they had hit him up. John grabbed the video cam-
right I saw three boars trotting along about twenty meters
away. I yelled to John to let three dogs out and follow them up. I drove for about another fifteen meters and let Tess out. I saw a boar about twenty meters in front of me and she nailed him like an old hand. I ran over grabbed the boar and stuck him. I then heard some snorting a short distance away so off I headed. On arrival Rocco and Dutchie had another boar, I quickly dispatched him. By this time John had caught up with me and he also stuck a boar off Joe. Pisser we nailed all three! We checked the dogs out, Rocco and Dutchie required some stitching, so we headed back to camp and stitched them up. Rocco was fine but Dutchie was out of action for the next three days. On the way back to camp we saw a Scrub bull that appeared to have a broken leg we spoke to the property owner about the scrubbie and he said if you see him again bowl him over. As he had a nice set of horns on him we were happy to oblige. The next morning we headed out to an area we had marked on the GPS about 20 kilometers from camp. Sure enough, when we arrived there, we were on. John spotted a good boar a distance away heading off through the anthills to the left of us. He quickly let Rocco, Joe and Tess out and I quickly turned the Cruiser off and listened for the hit up. Twenty or thirty seconds or so went by; it seemed like an eternity, when we heard the familiar sounds of grunting and snorting. Sure enough as we arrived, Joe, Tess and Rocco had the boar well and truly under control. I then quickly dispatched the boar and its tusks were the best so far for the trip- around 32 Douglas points. On the way back to the camp we once again ran into the Scrub Bull with the
broken leg. John pulled out the Sako from behind the seat and nailed him with a single shot to the head. He was wrapped, his first scrubbie! So far we had caught 34 boars, 3 sows and a scrubbie for the trip. Things could not be any better than this, so we thought! Saturday morning about five minutes from camp Joe and
large amount of blood on a game trail â€˜Shit!â€™ I knew we were in
Rocco nailed another good boar by the water; this took the
trouble! I heard them hit up again about another fifty metres
tally to 35. We returned to camp, dropped off Rocco, and
away and again he broke, and again another thirty or so
picked up Tess and Dutchie who were having a rest. I said
metres out, then nothing. I knew they were in trouble.
to John "Let's have a look across the road, I know of a good
After about three hours of looking for Tess and Dutchie
lagoon that we might pick up a good boar on".
between anthills and small scrubby trees I found them. Every
We parked about 100 metres from the lagoon; it was around
Dogger's nightmare, they were both dead. They both copped
nine o'clock in the morning. I walked Tess in on a lead and
major arterial bleeds, how quickly things can turn to shit. First
John did the same with Dutchie due to the fact it was start-
dog I've lost in 25 years of chasing pigs, it really tears into your
ing to warm up and the younger dogs could have run around
guts! We then headed back to camp feeling somewhat upset
crazy on scent and got themselves hot. Joe on the other hand
and pissed off. Tess had the makings to be the best bitch I've
worked short, about thirty to fifty metres, so I let her go about
had, John had similar regards for Dutchie.
her business. I could tell Joe was on fresh sign when bang she had a boar no further than twenty meters in front of us
Once back at camp we decided to head home early due to the
in long grass. We then let Tess and Dutchie go, thinking they
fact we were down to two dogs. Sooner or later if you hunt
would go straight to Joe who had caught the boar. But no, they
these tough, hard, muscular, tusky wild animals- things like
headed off to catch their own pig.
this may happen. All in all, six days hunting, 35 good boars, 3
I heard Tess and Dutchie hit up about fifty metres to my right
sows and a scrub bull; man, his dogs, his knife and this beauti-
so out I went, nothing, the boar had broke. I then noticed a
ful country- it just doesn't get any better.
HOUND HUNTER PHOTOS WANTED Send material to Po Box 10126, Mt Pleasant, Qld, 4740.
ALL MATERIAL RETURNED AFTER PUBLICATION
A problem the government officials in charge
do battle with rogue stakes, stumps etc. Then
ur trip had begun at four am, as we had
don't seem to have a handle on. (Politicians
it was on the road again.
to wait for Dan, the most junior member of
don't seem to worry either (not enough votes
The rest of the afternoon was spent travelling
our crew, who was playing Foley Shield rugby
down half way to my camp site where one of
league in Townsville.
Upon arrival at the
A quick and very welcome cup of tea and
my vehicles was stashed with a shot clutch
station homestead ten hours later everyone
home-made banana cake and it was back to
master cylinder. There we also had to com-
alighted from the vehicles stretching and
the grind, as we had lots to do and daylight
press our load from three into two vehicles.
limping due to the absolutely horrendous
would be gone soon enough. My working
After being behind the wheel for sixteen gru-
condition of the infamous peninsula develop-
crew of mates plus my best mate Lyn, my
elling hours we were pretty shattered, so when
wife, had come up to help me erect a bush
we pulled to a halt beside my old Toyota Ute
camp on a very remote part of the next prop-
we threw out our swags, raced down to the
This is no reflection on the hard working
erty, but only after the promise of a little bit
creek for a bogie, and after a quick feed and
crews that maintain it, as their resources just
of hunting as a reward. So it was over to the
half a dozen cold cans each everyone fell
don't allow them to be everywhere at once and
work shed to change my main road tyres to
back on their swags and tried to be the first
the sheer volume of traffic wrecks their great
bush tyres, and soon four skinny 16 ply rags
to sleep, though I doubt a hand grenade in the
work not long after they have completed it.
were adorning my '89 Maverick ute ready to
camp would have woken anyone that night, let
Top Left: Mick with a solid tusky boar. Top Right & Bottom Left: Dan with two of this trophy boars taken. Bottom Right: Fab with his red Scrub Bull.
alone my snoring, which they always seemed
I noticed some movement down on the waters
ants, spiders and hairy marys, saw the skyline
to complain about.
edge to the left of us. It appeared all that
beginning to thin out and it looked like we
The beautiful but noisy dawn chorus of the
noise had rudely awakened two more large
were approaching the first waterhole. We
blue winged Kookaburras and Honeyeaters
boars from their mud bath who were trying to
stopped a prudent distance away to approach
woke everyone early the next day, and after a
flee but making heavy weather of trying to run
on foot, so as not to make too much noise, and
quick breakfast and the installation of a new
in the deep pig-rootings which extended for
we were soon sneaking in a staggered line,
master cylinder by our team mechanic, Dan,
forty metres out of the swamp. Unfortunately
spread out through the tough wiry long grass
we were off to tackle the main obstacle to
they had been spotted which had sealed their
that extended about thirty metres out from the
arriving at our destination, a still soggy creek
fate as two quick shots rang out and they both
broadleaf ti-trees that surrounded the water.
crossing close by.
collapsed in the mud side by side, victims of
We had only gone forty metres or so when
All the vehicle drivers walked the crossing
Mick and Fab, who have honed their snap
I saw Fab jump high in the air when a large
first to pick their route and all negotiated the
shooting skills around the northern canfields
boar exploded from the grass under his feet
crossing with little difficulty. After four more
and don't miss many under these circum-
and bolted. Guessing what had caused it I
hours of indescribably rough and thick coun-
could just hope to intercept the culprit and ran
try we arrived at a swamp down the end of
Now we could celebrate, so after we dragged
forward. Seeing a flash of black and a big
which a scrub bull had died two weeks ago.
the three boars together for a photo shoot,
bushy tail in the metre high grass, I was tempt-
As everyone needed to stretch their legs after
we removed the tusks and headed back to the
ed to take a flyer with my 45.70, but didn't
the drive I guessed no-one would object to a
vehicles to open the esky for a cold beer. On
want to disturb any other pigs nearby that
little sneaky look at the carcass or what was
the way back to the car we all congratulated
might offer a better shot. However, this quick
left of it.
Dan on his first kill, a very nice boar. The
glimpse was all I got as he hauled out for parts
Lyn waited at the vehicles which we had
rest of the trip to camp took about an hour and
unknown at full speed, totally unscathed.
pulled to a halt as soon as I saw the swamp
around three o'clock or so we all made our
As I had hoped we only went another forty
was close. The four of us took off for a
way down the high bank to the river and into
metres or so when I saw all three boys stop.
look, I was armed with my trusty Olympus
a foaming set of rapids where we soaked away
Dan just stood stock still in the tall grass while
Digital camera, Fab and Mick with .243s,
the aches and pains of our trip, knocking back
Mick and Fab sank to their haunches and
and Dan carrying my Ruger All Weather M77
a few cold cans, and dreaming out loud about
peered into the darkened area of leaf mould
.300 Winchester magnum ultra light. As we
the work and fun that was going to be had
in the scrubby Ti trees. Mick was lining up
sneaked closer to the old carcass, a large boar
over the next few days.
on something and quickly fired, jumped up
could be seen walking over to have a roll or
The muted roar of the rapids in the back-
immediately and rushed into the long grass
a chew on some pretty rank remains. We had
ground kept no-one awake that night and we
obviously chasing something.
already decided to allow the big fella the first
were all up early once again to begin work.
The wounded boar flew past me in the long
shot, and seeing as how he had never shot
After a couple of days hard work fashioning
grass. I had a snap shot and missed but
anything before (I hesitate to use the word
toilet, showers, kitchen etc, the boys and girl
walked forward and found a pretty substantial
"virgin"), we were all silently crossing our
had worked so hard that I thought I'd better
blood trail and we soon found a very nice boar
fingers for him.
take them on a day's hunt. This also doubled
stone dead shot straight through the heart with
Mick is about 12 years older than his cousin
as a recce for me as this was all new country
the .243. He was about 50 metres from where
Dan, and designated himself to accompany
and would all go in the memory banks for
he was hit.
and advise Dan as necessary, with the young
later on in the year.
man being a novice hunter. As an experienced
No roads here, so with two trusty GPS, my
decided to take Dan and walk a little higher
guiding hand there would be few better. After
satellite phone, our medical kit and sufficient
in the sand ridge, hoping to spot some hogs
a quiet word from Mick and as cool as the
food for the day we all piled in the old blue 82
on their way in, but still in view of Fab and
other side of the pillow, Dan just leaned casu-
Nissan, nicknamed by a previous client "The
myself. Shortly my two- way radio gave a
ally against a tree, lined up, and squeezed off.
D1"as in Cat, and headed off towards a couple
little static. It was Mick up ahead a little let-
The 180gn Winchester Failsafe shattered the
of the nearest swamps which looked good on
ting me know there was a roan scrub bull that
boar's spine and anchored him to the ground,
didn't want to give them right of way and was
and Dan whacked another one into him for the
An hour of driving through some extremely
looking a little belligerent. I told Mick to give
coup de grace.
thick sand ridges, making friends with the
Dan a crack at him as he was still carrying
There was no time for celebrations just yet as
local green tree
The ti-tree then thinned out a little and Mick
Above: Fab with a good colour boar. Opposite Page: Far Right: Dan was all smiles after taking this great Scrub Bull.
the .300 and soon after I saw him aim up and
nothing short of a surgical procedure would
But you never know if you never go.
heard the familiar bellow of the shot. The
part the two of them for the time being. I
Lyn and I stayed in the vehicle to drive down
bull just dropped as though he had been head
put that in the too hard basket and decided to
and pick them up when they'd walked around
shot, and as Fab and I headed up for a look we
worry about it later.
the waterhole to save time. As it was now
could see he was carrying a magnificent head
The trip through the sand ridge to the next
after mid-day I got the esky out and soon we
of horns and was also stone dead.
swamp was fairly uneventful if you don't
were munching on some sangas and knock-
Now, I'm not sure where Dan aimed for this
count being covered in green tree ants the
ing back some cold weak cordial. Ten min-
particular shot, but I doubt whether anything
whole time. About two kilometres from the
utes went by and I could see the boys way
else bar a brain shot could have produced such
swamp we came across a big mob of pigs in
up the other end of the waterhole, but as my
a spectacularly successful result. The 180gn
some dense bush. The boys bailed out of the
gaze swung back to the vehicle I noticed a
bonded core pill had struck him front on, and
vehicle and were soon off chasing the mob.
pig walking along, head down on a course
just off centre in the low neck. I suspect it con-
When they finally turned up they had added
that would take him within 50 metres of our
tinued right in and through the heart, opening
about half a dozen to the tally, mainly young
vehicle. For a second I had a dilemma, should
up bleeders everywhere and dropping him like
boars and sows.
I shoot and wreck it for the boys, or should I
the hammer of Thor.
I decided to stop a way back from the next
let him continue on his merry way. This battle
All of us trudged on up the sand ridge to
waterhole again and let the boys sneak up as
of conflicting interests within did not last too
admire the bull and offer Dan our congratu-
usual, so 400 metres or so away I pulled to a
long however, so a moment later the 45.70
lations as he was two out of two and going
stop and killed the motor. The waterhole was
bellowed and the unsuspecting boar lay kick-
strong. I was getting a bit worried about how
apparently barren with little bulrushes and a
ing in the dust.
I was going to ever get my .300 Mag back off
fair bit of open ground to the water and only a
I found out later that the boys had actually
him at some time however as he's a big lump
few stunted and fallen trees for pigs to hide in,
seen the boar depart the water, but figured he
of a lad, extremely fit, and I was fairly sure
so I didn't hold much hope for a good result.
was too far to chase anyway. After my shots
they figured any self respecting pig would
we grabbed rifles and ran down towards him.
more days work to do and Dan had to get back
depart the area. However, pigs in this area
As we emerged from the timber onto a dried
for footy by Sunday, more hunting would have
have never seen white man so they are not so
out point of the swamp we could see what had
to wait till the way out, when the boys shot
predictable, and a short distance from where
alarmed him. It was not a pig he had shot but
a couple more hogs. One afternoon's fishing
they heard my shot, the head of an inquisitive
a scrub bull. The .243 had killed him instantly
also produced some quality sooty grunter and
boar popped up under a leaning ti-tree. He
with a good head shot, but as he went down
Saratoga, Mick catching and releasing one
was almost all white with a few black spots;
three or four more bulls came to his rescue
monster of around 90 centimetres. The over-
very rare colouring in this area, and Fab put
and were still acting belligerently, pawing the
all tally wasn't too bad for 1 Â˝ days hunting,
him back to sleep with a 100gn core-lokt pill
ground and making short rushes. While capa-
around 20 pigs over half of which were decent
from his .243.
ble of killing a bull with a well placed head
boars and two respectable scrub bulls.
From the vehicle I was relieved to hear the
shot the little .243 is definitely NOT capable
Everyone was satisfied with the trip, even
shot, but was surprised to hear the signifi-
of stopping a charging bull with any other shot
my wife who just loves to get out in the bush
cantly louder boom of the .300 about thirty
so Fab made a strategic retreat to wait for a
and relax for a few days. However the one
seconds later. Mick has learned a few things
little more firepower to arrive.
we were all proud of was young Dan, who
from his many trips into the Cape and sent
Needing only one bait in that area I was
had come up a greenhorn in the shooting
Dan on ahead while he and Fab positioned
not overly keen to shoot any more so as we
department and gone home a deal more expe-
the black and white boar for photos. Another
approached for photos I put the 45.70 to my
rienced, having scored an exceptional scrub
hundred metres on, Dan came across another
shoulder and walked slowly towards the other
bull, several great boars, and plenty of good
good boar which he promptly dispatched.
bulls and shouted at them. Fortunately their
stories to tell his Dad who was quietly envious
Mick called me on the UHF and I drove down
nerve broke before ours and reluctantly they
I believe, but very happy for his son. (By the
to where they were. I had to walk past Dan's
abandoned their fallen comrade. The bull Fab
way Dan did give me back my .300 at the trips
boar first and I couldn't believe the tusks, they
shot had a circle of white on a red head almost
end). Dan's best boar went an amazing 31 6/8
were crackers, long and sharp, and I was look-
in the shape of a target. Fab was a little pissed
ing forward to measuring them later on. After
off he didn't hit it dead centre, but it was close
taking tusks out and photo sessions it was time
The author operates a Hunting and Fishing
to head back to camp via one last swamp.
Everyone reckoned that was enough excite-
Safari on Cape York. For enquiries ring Greg
As we were sneaking up to the swamp in the
ment for the day so it was back to relax with
on 07 40987264 or email
vehicle, a lone pig was seen slowly heading
a coldie in the rapids. As we still had a few
off along the edge a half mile away, so we stopped and let Fab walk after it by himself. By his hand signals way in the distance it appeared as if he had lost it, but after he disappeared into the fringing trees a shot rang out. Fab immediately emerged from the trees beckoning us frantically. Somewhat mystified,
the floodplains in NT, with Muckadilla Safaris. Left: Steve Elliott shot this 30 & a half inch Chital Stag in Qld.
Above Left: Peter & Aaron Hatfield with two Chital Stags. Above Right: Craig Edwards.
Top Left: Craig Stevens, shot this dingo while it was hanging around cattle. Top Right: Graham Reents from QLD shot this fine Chital Stag. Above: Ambrose Salumbide shot this Chital Stag in Ayr, QLD.
Above: Rick Fordham shot these three potential calf killer dingoes with a Stainless Varmint Weatherby .30/06.
WANTED: PHOTOS OF ANY SHOT GAME FROM AUSTRALIA, DONâ€™T FORGET TO INCLUDE A DESCRIPTION OF WHERE THE GAME WAS SHOT AND THE TYPE OF RIFLE AND BULLETS USED.
Wild Boar Australia. Big Game Hunting. Hogs. Bulls. Buffalo. Deer.