The week I had been looking forward to all year finally arrived. Wagon loaded, and the rugby final on the radio with a beauty sunrise, life doesn't get much better then this.
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Camp was set up and we all went separate ways for an evening hunt.
I chose an area that I had seen a few deer before and made my way slowly keeping a watchful eye on sunny faces around the river. From a far away advantage point movement with the naked eye caught my attention on a face across the river. Bringing the scope up I soon saw a healthy looking stag in velvet feeding and moving quickly downwards. Game on. The Brno 223 was my rifle of choice for the day so the shot had to count. I closed the distance to a shootable distance, but the stag was moving stedily downwards to the river, and teatree would always obscure my view below. I had to get a move on.
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I then worked out I was going to have to get down to the same level as him to get a clean shot away. I got to within 30m from the river and started to sidle along using what cover I had available. The stag was somewhere now out of view in the pungas opposite me, so I kept moving along and then saw him emerge from cover head down feeding. I froze and waited for him to move behind some teateree. The noise of the river and wind blowing straight up gave me confidence that only movement could give me away. I found a punga stump to get a resting shot against and waited for him to move into the open. Heart rate was up, so slow deep breaths, bolt closed, crosshairs on the base of the neck as he turned perfectly side on, I squeezed the trigger. The shot felt fluid and I looked up from the scope to see the stag go belly up and dissapear out of sight. I crossed the river (waist deep in places) and got to where I last saw him. I found him, but not where I had hoped within a deep and steep stream. I had no hope of pulling him out, so had to drag him down the stream to the river bed which gave me bugger all room to gut him. I was practically standing in the river gutting him on a grassy lip just big enough for him alone. Not ideal, and light was fading fast, so I decided to come back in the morning and bone him out and make life a bit easier for myself (Kaimai hunting smarts so my hunting companions told me).
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Other pics:
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Blue ducks nesting under the cabin every evening.
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The week was full of deer sightings, and the other guys dropped a few more spikers. I saw a couple of yearlings and for some reason they seemed to get lucky on all occasions. Back to that horrible W word this week...
