Innovative pig trapping - True story
The caterpillar trail of college kids meandered through the valley towards our campsite. Periodic shrieks from one or two girls suggested their city sneakers were getting muddier. The most dominant sound though was from alpha male, who with regular sugar fuelled bellows, announced how he intended dispatching pigs during the trip. I shelved his comments and figured how to sort the city boy out.
In our clearing, boys and girls were directed to set areas and began setting up their bivvies. All shelters were simply a triangle of polythene with packs stacked at the windward end. Alpha’s comments still dominated the general chatter and I was becoming a tad pissed with his presence. I whistled the group together to explain protocols regarding boundaries, environmental considerations and where to toilet. We walked the clearing so everyone could see what I wanted.
At one point, there was reasonably fresh pig rooting.
“Whassat Mister?” Asked Alpha.
I explained it was pig rooting and reasonable fresh. I flipped the turf back over to show how the grass hadn’t yet yellowed. Furthermore I exaggerated the size of the responsible pig, suggesting it was a loner by the deepness of the hole, the marks (that I’d scuffed) and the likelihood he’d return that night. Alpha began to fidget and went quiet.
An opportunity presented itself. I suggested that this solo boar who’d probably ripped the turf with significant tusks, was after worms. Kids nodded in ignorant agreement that worms were bigger the deeper underground they lived and the boar knew this. Hence the deep rooting. I sent Alpha to the main shelter for a spade.
“If you dig a really deep hole and ensure its sides are straight, it’ll trap any pig”, I said.
“How’s that Mister?” he asked.
“Well, they know there are big worms down deep so they force themselves head first into the hole, pushing really hard to get to the bottom. You’ll know that pigs are basically an isosceles triangle, so once they get past their shoulders, they get jammed.”
I casually stuck the spade in the ground and sauntered off.
Towards dusk and as kids prepped for the night, I scanned the boundary of the clearing. Alpha was on his eleventh hole.
