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HUNTING TACTICS

We were returning from an exhausting hunting day.
………

The sunrise found us in the jeeps. We’d been moving towards the first ambushes.
Strangely enough for the season, there was no snow. It had been the mildest winter in my lifetime. Anyway, everything around was deep in white-frost and fog. The vehicles left us on a mountain ridge and we continued on foot. Wild boars were our main target. Judging by the tracks left behind by their hooves and snouts, the neighborhood was abundant in pigs. The open spaces were overgrown with high grass and dense bushes which were concealing my body up to the chest.
That was good about my own disguise but, on the other hand, the targets of the hunt were also taking advantage. No doubt, the positions had been chosen correctly, considering the wind and the potential hide-outs of the pigs, but the thing that had been worrying me was the high grass which was hampering us from getting a good visibility of the hogs. I investigated the tracks surrounding my position and traced three well used paths. Two of them were merging together at a point where there was a small open space. The steep terrain suggested that if I was lucky enough, the pigs would come out on one of those three paths. A dozen or so meters upwards, a fallen tree brought down by the storm, seemed a perfect place for hiding. If necessary, I could climb up on it and get a better view over the high weeds. When you take position, it shouldn’t be situated on the very deer path because if the pack happens to pass by, the leader will, most probably, be the mother-swine and it shouldn’t be fired at. Thus, our chances to select the best animal for shooting reduce considerably. The time for reacting is reduced too which increases the risk of making mistakes when shooting or choosing the right animal.
Now, added to all, was the thick fog which was worsening the situation. Drifting low, it was limiting the visibility up to twenty meters or so. I was relying on my luck and my experience to react quickly and adequately provided the Goddess of hunting was good to me.
No beaters or dogs could be heard yet but I was aware that the battue had been on its way already for we had arranged its start beforehand. Over the years I have learned how to overcome my natural tension and impose complete calm on myself, nearing to the point of nirvana, before facing the animals. From then on, my activities are absolutely automated based on instinct mainly.
While I was relaxing and enjoying myself, I heard some slight noise just below the spot where the two ropes were crossing. I barely lifted my body aiming the rifle at the moving grass. The snout of a predator showed out cautiously in the fog some fifteen meters from where I’d been lying. I let the bullet out, a bit lower, so that to preserve the skull. The male fox was knocked down immediately. It is a common belief among hunters that predators shouldn’t be fired at during hog hunts because the pack might be frightened by the shots and may not come out. My personal experience has proved that this holds true just in cases when the hogs are very near you. Quite often, after I’ve knocked down a predator, pigs do pass by my hiding post and that in the course of 5 to 15 minutes. A friend of mine, an experienced hunter, used to say:
”To hell with those pigs, once they make up their mind to hit the road, nothing can stop them.”
Ten minutes later a deer, his antlers still on his head, passed by, making huge leaps. Obviously, the high temperatures were considerably altering the life of animals. Long time ago, by the end of December, deer would have already got rid of their old antlers.
The graceful animal sank deep into the fog and silence reigned again until the moment when it was broken by the barking of dogs and the yelling of beaters. When there is fog sound goes further. My ears caught the crackling of broken branches and the characteristic trotting of hog hooves. I was expecting the black silhouettes to emerge any time out of nowhere but it seemed as if the moment had become endless. I felt a sudden puff of wind on my back. There is nothing more alarming for a wild pig than the molecules of human smell. The noise of approaching pigs came to a halt. A warning grunt was heard and I saw the grass swing to and fro, moved by the passing pack some 25-30 meters from me. Despite their nearness they remained hidden from my eyes. When you fire to kill the basic rule is to aim at visible targets only. In my case it was just vice versa.
It was just when I had lost every hope I would see a “hairy “ fellow again that a pig broke away from the pack and passed somewhat higher, kindly offering me, though for a split second only, its entire left half of the body. The animal was a two-year-old male, about 70-80 kilos, excellent for shooting. I thanked it in my mind and followed it in my 1.5 magnification scope before pulling the trigger.
The animal rolled down the slope and didn’t stop rolling over until it was lost from sight, not giving me a chance for a second shot. The beaters came near the ambushes which put an end to the hunt. It was then that I had the opportunity to look for the animals. The fox was the first one I found. It had been hit frontally in the chest. The bullet had, understandably, come out without making a big exit wound for it had been comparatively hard. I started climbing down in the direction where I had first seen the piglet. There was no blood at the spot of the shot. Most hunters expect splashes of blood all around the place. However, that rarely happens at the hit location. Usually, bleeding starts some 40-50 meters further. The intensity of bleeding depends a lot on the hit spot, the character of the wound and the exit wound. If the wound is incoming only bleeding starts much later. When the lungs have been hit there is a bloody trail scattered with little, white bubbles. If the area of the stomach is wounded, the blood comes out mixed with mucus which is stomach fluid. Blood stops running out quickly with muscle wounds. If there is a continuous trail of thick dark blood, this is a sign of a severed vein or artery. Irrespective of the nature of the wound, it is advisable to leave the animal at peace for some 15-20 minutes. If it has been heavily wounded, that time will be enough for it to die. If not, it will remain motionless and it will not be hard for the hunter to approach it at a distance convenient for shooting. Without getting desperate I went on searching and finally came upon an opening where the grass was trodden. That’s where the hog had started rolling down. It was easy to spot the dead animal. It was some 70 meters from the place I’d hit it. There was not a single drop of blood on the way leading to it. It had been hit in the lungs, slightly over the heart. Using all its energy, the 11.7 gram, .308 caliber bullet had not come out. A swelling under the hide on the opposite side of the wound showed where the projectile was. We loaded the killed animals. It turned out that some of the other hunters had had luck too.
The day slipped by quickly filled with emotion from the hunt. We had managed to make four complete battues. Almost all of the hunters I had taken with me had had the chance of shooting down at least one pig, some of them even more.
We drove to the hunting lodge loaded on our jeeps. The sun had just gone down but there was enough light to see an entire pack of wild hogs moving ahead of us. It was not just wrong to shoot from the vehicle. It was impossible for the narrow road did not permit any maneuvering. The driver pulled up leaving the engine
on. There were three more hunters in the car, me included. Daniel was sitting in the front seat, his desire to hunt still burning.
Without making any noise, we jumped out just when the pigs sensed us and rushed running. Following their instinct, they turned right leaving some sparse undergrowth between us. There was no hiding place after them, just a bare clearing covered with short grass. I thought they were going to cross our way once again so that to find shelter in the dense undergrowth on the left side of the road. I didn’t want to shout and frighten them still further but I was willing to warn Daniel at the same time that they were going to cross the road again. We started running, ducking as we did so, looking for the shelter of the bushes. We were careful to move as silently as we could.
A huge male hog stood out from the rest of the animals. Even on the background of the ever diminishing light, his tusks were looming white, frightful and huge. The mating period had been in full swing otherwise such a specimen wouldn’t have been marching together with the pack.
The first hog, a big swine, crossed the way. That was a prompt for Daniel about the way the rest of the pigs would go. Unexpectedly quick, the hunter reacted, aiming his rifle the moment he saw the athletic silhouette of the male hog appear on the path. The shot resounded silently at the place where I was. Without any sign of being wounded, the hog went on running and disappeared behind a bush. The hunter and I rushed in its direction, he in his desire to fire a second shot,
me, willing to render help in case things got tougher. When we arrived at the spot we had last seen the hog, we understood that the animal had managed to pass just 5 or 6 meters before departing to God. The tusks were really impressing with their length. They were protruding at least 11 centimeters out. It was only the next day that we understood that one of them was 25.9 cm, while the longer one measured 28.8 cm. That is something you can call hunting of champions by champions!

ROBERT ATANASSOV