I had the opportunity to head in to the Kaimais for a couple of overnighters in July. It certainly highlighted my “optimistic view” of metservice forecasts. Trip one involved the usual un-godly early morning departure and hike up toward spot x. Reaching the campsite at about 9am, it started to rain, then pour, so the tent was erected in a mad, uncoordinated rush. After eventually untangling the inner and outer, the early morning kick off left me in need of a quick kip before heading out. After a 10 minute pretend sleep, I opened the eyes to the pup staring at me with a “what gives Boss, we’re here, let’s go” look. Taking the necessary harden up pill, I donned the wet shoes and off we trudged.
He's developed a bit of a pout when it comes to taking photos. The moment I pull the phone out he looks away. Teenagers!
The day was spent trailing various animals in the immediate surrounds. The wind was quite fickle, and my hunting ability was worse. We got in close, but I just couldn’t make out animals in the thick jungle. I spent many minutes dead still scanning to no avail. This is a habit I’m working on – the whole “be still” thing – which is tough. I couldn’t help but wonder at times, just how hard those meat hunters were back in the day at grunting through rubbish days to get deer on the deck. A bit deflated we headed back to camp for a re-group and cup of tea. Heading about 400m up the Doc track at 4pm for a last light hunt, Kai indicated straight up the track then into the bush. I decided it was time to head off-piste, but the pup whirled his head up the track, into the bush where I was indicating to go, and back again. Weird?
Our friend next to the campsite
Moving into the bush we soon tucked in behind fresh hoof tracks. Kai moved at a good pace, he seemed to be onto an animal. He then proceeded to take us in a loop a couple of hundred metres, back to the same Doc track. He’d locked up. I was gutted. I guess that’s the end of the day’s play. But, out of a need to reinforce the “stand still and pretend I’m a patient hunter” I too locked up dead still. Thirty second later, we heard a “crack”. I looked at the pup, he looked back with “the look” across the track. Then we heard movement behind a giant overgrown boulder ahead. Stepping quietly forward, I noticed the back of the deer’s head feeding away from the boulder. Satisfied with the target, slide the hammer down from half-cock and dropped the deer on the spot. Cycling the lever action as I moved forward, a flicker of movement to my right, of a yearling ghosting away. Another shot anchored it on the spot.
Our first double. The lever action with red dot is the sweetest close range combo.
Two deer down at the end of a long day. Stoked. I realized then, that Kai had been picking up a wind scent back where I’d put him off the track into the thick. That’s why he’d looked confused. Of course. And well done pup on taking me back there! The meat processed, left hanging under punga in the cool night’s air The meat shelf on the pack made the walk out manageable the following day. Not a bad birthday present!
Yup, this is gonna be a "good hurt"
A couple of weeks later I spotted what I thought was another suitable weather window, so off we headed up the hill. Once again, my reading of Metservice was somewhat optimistic. We were soon powering toward our camp site in a heavy downpour that turned to hail, then thunder and lightning. Kai hugged my left side. We soon were climbing up off the main track toward the hut, pretty much soaked. Toward the top of the ridge, we slowed down, the rain having abated. Punga and long grass in patches. Ideal. We ghosted along, Kai winding. A deer got up out of its bed in the long grass and drifted to our right down the ridge. Putting Kai in behind its foot marks, we trailed heavy hoof prints down the slope. Game on.
We spent about 10-15 minutes moving quietly down the muddy bank, scanning through the thick. This spot was relatively open. We heard a movement below. There were deer in here. Great. Moving along to the crest of a bank, Kai locked up. I realized we’d hit the ledge of clay pan. Hoping we’d spot an animal, I guestured a “sit” command to him, anchoring him just prior to the ledge. Peering over, nothing at home. Indicating to him, he moved in front, and crept forward over the pan. There was an animal ahead. We could feel it. He scented and moved up a muddy game trail off the other side of the pan.
We both got pulled up by a gruff, corrective “woof” from the bush ahead. Good. There was an animal ahead. It had spotted Kai, but not me. Dropping to the knees, I crept forward along the muddy game trail past the locked up pup. I’d pin-pointed the area where the bark had come from. But, it was dark, so super slow was the order. Scanning, I made out the white of a deer’s hind end, in fact two, staring back at us about 12 metres away. Sliding the hammer down, I squeezed a round. Off they bolted. Cycling the lever action to catch the empty round (a dumb move) the action jammed two rounds, just as the hind and yearling bolted down the gut below my feet in plain view. Not to matter. I’d got the hind. I was sure of it. Giving it 10 minutes to settle, Kai moved down the gut, I followed. About 50 metres in I was starting to wonder….
It was then we saw the two animals drift across the v of the gut through the fern. I pulled a poor snap-shot, hitting a punga in front of where they glided. Not good. We moved forward. Frustrated with myself I realized I must have collected a tree limb on my first shot. Bummer. Kai moved forward and continued to trail. About a minute I realized we were looking at both deer, staring back over their shoulders at me. They began to boost but was able to squeeze a round through the flank of what I thought was the yearling. Moving forward, I noticed a fern vibrating. Peering below, the hind was anchored in its death knoll. After inspecting it, it only had the one entry wound. I’d missed the first shot, or it had deflected. We trailed the yearling another ten minutes or so, before I moved back to the downed animal. Soaked, shaking from the wet, I processed and hung the animal, before marching to the hut well before dark. A little annoyed, I reminded myself, “cycle cleanly”. Forget catching the empty round.
We spent the next day trailing animals through the ridge systems and finding excellent new ground. On the walk out we discovered pig beds under juvenile rimu trees only a few hundred metres from our usual camp spot. “This will make an interesting stalk next trip” I thought on the walk out.
Morning tea. A cuppa, and homemade venison biltong harvested from the first trip. Turns out Kai is a connoisseur. Who would have thought.
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