It was a wonderfully cool morning as I nocked an arrow after climbing into my
tripod for the opening morning hunt. The wind was calm and the coyote yelps
echoed from the fields to the creek bottom. Hidden in the midst of a mature
mesquite tree, I silently thanked God for the opportunity and keeping the
mosquitos at bay. Choosing not to protect the corn slinger this morning, I
thought I may catch a deer in transit from the oak mots to their bedding area
for the day. Each snap of a branch or flutter of a bird's wing, in my mind, was
that deer, coming in for it's final meal. The first hour of daylight passed with
the only amusement showing in the form of a cow parade, from west to east,
oblivious of my perch. As the second hour was coming to a close, my first
brush with the wary whitetail came with a snort directly behind me. My stand
is slightly exposed from the back, but this is the last place I would expect an
animal to make an appearance from. I tried to wait it out as the snort moved
from left to right, just beyond the brush line, never to appear. As I began to
settle down, the irrefutable cacophony that is pig began to fill the air. Out of
sight but so close my adrenaline began pumping, the pigs rummaged through
the underbrush munching on granjero and *****ly pair. I positioned for a shot
opposite of "the honey hole" as they were moving off to my right. Just then,
more cattle began to filter down the sendero, forcing the pigs to change their
focus and direction. First one, then two more suckling piglets zipped through
the opening in the trees and brush I call "the honey hole". That spot is 19
yards to the east, and as I drew back in anticipation of the bigger pigs, three
of them suprised me by charging out in front of me at 8 yards! The first all
black pig got a pass as number two in line was the spotted pig I had seen on
my trail camera pictures from the past couple of weeks. I picked my spot and
let the arrow sail! Squeals of confusion erupted from the pack! Pigs were
everywhere! I know there had to be twenty if there was one. My eye never
left my quarry as she ran a fairly tight circle around me, finally crashing about
5 yards east of the honey hole. I looked to where she had been walking when
I took the shot, and there was my arrow, buried a few inches into the dirt.
A complete pass through, taking out both lungs and slicing through the top of
the heart. Man was I pumped! She now sits in my cooler in the garage, ice
completely encasing her as I write this. I believe pork is what's for dinner
this coming weekend.
Todd
My Quarry
Success!
tripod for the opening morning hunt. The wind was calm and the coyote yelps
echoed from the fields to the creek bottom. Hidden in the midst of a mature
mesquite tree, I silently thanked God for the opportunity and keeping the
mosquitos at bay. Choosing not to protect the corn slinger this morning, I
thought I may catch a deer in transit from the oak mots to their bedding area
for the day. Each snap of a branch or flutter of a bird's wing, in my mind, was
that deer, coming in for it's final meal. The first hour of daylight passed with
the only amusement showing in the form of a cow parade, from west to east,
oblivious of my perch. As the second hour was coming to a close, my first
brush with the wary whitetail came with a snort directly behind me. My stand
is slightly exposed from the back, but this is the last place I would expect an
animal to make an appearance from. I tried to wait it out as the snort moved
from left to right, just beyond the brush line, never to appear. As I began to
settle down, the irrefutable cacophony that is pig began to fill the air. Out of
sight but so close my adrenaline began pumping, the pigs rummaged through
the underbrush munching on granjero and *****ly pair. I positioned for a shot
opposite of "the honey hole" as they were moving off to my right. Just then,
more cattle began to filter down the sendero, forcing the pigs to change their
focus and direction. First one, then two more suckling piglets zipped through
the opening in the trees and brush I call "the honey hole". That spot is 19
yards to the east, and as I drew back in anticipation of the bigger pigs, three
of them suprised me by charging out in front of me at 8 yards! The first all
black pig got a pass as number two in line was the spotted pig I had seen on
my trail camera pictures from the past couple of weeks. I picked my spot and
let the arrow sail! Squeals of confusion erupted from the pack! Pigs were
everywhere! I know there had to be twenty if there was one. My eye never
left my quarry as she ran a fairly tight circle around me, finally crashing about
5 yards east of the honey hole. I looked to where she had been walking when
I took the shot, and there was my arrow, buried a few inches into the dirt.
A complete pass through, taking out both lungs and slicing through the top of
the heart. Man was I pumped! She now sits in my cooler in the garage, ice
completely encasing her as I write this. I believe pork is what's for dinner
this coming weekend.
Todd
My Quarry
Success!
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