Tuesday off so guess what I have planned?
Set the alarm for 5am didn’t impress the boss but I started the fire so I could have scored a couple brownie points there.
All reports were that the previous few days had been quite unproductive, the spot I had been at last Thursday, where the stags were going “off” was dead quiet since then. Warmer weather, the impending full moon, who knows? But the punters were all giving me the same feedback.
I set off and noticed the temp was 2.1 on the cars thermometer, good sign? Buggered if I know but it was the coldest it has been since last Thursday.
Decided to go to the same spot as I had been with bob, the week before. For no other reason than it was somewhat familiar. Got in just on shooting light. Set off in the same direction and immediately found stags calling.
A promising call up wind had me heading off in another direction, no point if I can’t get the direction rite.
I ended up down by a stream with a fantastic view of the opposite side of the valley, dropped the pack and sat for a while to absorb the ambiance.
I had borrowed the great southern mans electronic caller, so gave it a blurt, well bugger me if it didn’t immediately light up the valley! In particular, directly in front of me and right on top of the hill a stag showed me that he was the boss.
I high tailed it up the hill in the general direction of the stag. Funny how the climb seems effortless when there is a potential on top of the hill.
The approach was quite tricky, but I was determined not to stuff up this time. I waited until he called when I would scamper up a few steps then pause and watch to see if I could make out movement.
try stalking through this stuff
I only moved when he was roaring so he wouldn't hear me. It was probably the best part of 30 minutes before I was so close I could hear his steps breaking the leaf litter under foot, very close! but He was staying put, with a large group of trees between me and him I was having feelings of déjà vu, I decided to give the caller another little go. I turned the volume rite down and just gave it a grunt.
Success! He immediately moved down and partially into view.
In the back of my mind I realised that these callers are becoming more and more common, I didn’t want to be stalking another hunter, so that shadow of doubt needed to be thourghly removed. I got 100% visual confirmation that it was a deer and indeed he was not a bad stag.
My heart was thumping in my chest, I kept saying to myself “settle down, relax” I had raised the rifle early, so the movement would not spook the animal. I watched the stag as he moved down and across, toward me. He turned slightly to the side where I had a good angle and I took the shot.
The .308 did the job, he instantly dropped as I had slipped the bullet in front of the onside shoulder, coming to rest under the skin behind the off side shoulder.
8 pointer down!
No record breaker by any means, but my personal best and I did it all by myself.
The hard work now started, I got a few photos in then set out to get the cape off and take a pack full of venison back to the car. I cut the “drumsticks” off and the backstraps, laying them out to cool in the brisk early morning breeze.
federal 150g performed as expected, cup and core seperated and coming to rest under the skin behind the off side shoulder.
Whilst I was half way through getting the back leg off, I heard a crack, very close.
I looked up to see another stag that had followed the sent trail rite down to me, I looked at the steam from my breath, there is no way he could not have had my sent! He was directly downwind of me, cutting up this stag!
I jumped out of his view and toward the rifle, more as an instinctive reaction than anything. I watched him for a while and saw that he was probably the inferior stag in that area; he did not make a sound, was 8 points and seemed no bigger than the one I had shot.
I looked at him through the scope with the cross hairs trained on his head, but I thought, whatever would I do with 2 stags? He was no better than what I had and I had already bitten off more than I could chew.
I watched him for a few more moments and then had a chuckle as I yelled out and watched as he eyes went as wide as saucers. He pinned his ears back and bolted.
The height I was, was well above the car but I had a valley and a stream to cross. I loaded the pack with all the cuts and strapped the cape to the back of the pack. When I couldn’t pick it up I realised that the “drumsticks” and the gun were not going to fit without a rethink.
I ended up boning out the legs and packing the meat into the pack I then strapped the rifle to the pack and after putting the pack on I threw the head and cape on top of the pack.
Just a little over loaded. The dodgy old knees held out with a couple breaks and I made it back to the car, legs were like jelly by then.
Fridge now full I will have to get to work with some marinades to feed the family.
Greg
Bookmarks