I wish I could say that the red pick up, the dog and the two hogs were mine, but they're not. They belong to a successful hunter who actually manages to shoot wild pigs, probably because he sees them, gets them in his sights, fires and kills them. That wasn't me on Tuesday, despite the best intentions.
Thanks to last week's reconnaisence in force we had a pretty good idea of where the pigs were active and moved off at a little past first light, adreniline up. The hogs had been spotted most mornings rooting about on some flat land next to a creek, which is where we went. I figured there was a good chance of success, because we were stealthy and prepared. There were no pigs on the flat.
Next we worked the brush and thickets where they'd broken cover on Friday. Nothing. Undaunted, one team of shooters scouted down a creek bed favored by the swine, while I went through the woods that overlooked it. I saw a young buck and a doe, very beautiful, and a skunk, but no hogs - for either group.
Spurious picture of my hogless pick up and some guns
Chances are we walked right by them, hunkered down and sleeping - or they've moved on to better things. But I doubt it, the signs are that they're still there; we'll probably have to bait them - beer corn is the plan.
As it turns out, a great walk in the country with rifles and sidearms, which is fine by me; would've been even better to have come face to face with the opposition. Still, you know what they say, "its not over till its over" and I don't think we've reached that point...
More on summer hog hunts as they come.
LSP
