Pig hunt.
I prepared for this hunt first, with a prayer of success and thanksgiving (critically important, to me).
The peace river is not very far from my house and I often used to walk the bank for miles. Saw big sounders of hogs a few times. Tracks everywhere. Freezer got kinda empty a couple years ago, so I thought popping a piggy was a fine idea. I gathered up supplies, a bowie knife, a small knife, a nylon (body) bag *sleeping bag, bag* and last but not least, my 1858 new model army clone.
Kissed the wife goodbye as she wished me luck. Figured I would have to walk downriver a couple miles, but I only walked about 600 yards and across the river a hundred yards up, low and behold there were 2 big hogs. I walked abreast of them to get a shot from just standing on the far bank, but they went behind a slough channel the airboats made. I walk back down about a hundred yards and crossed the river (only about 2 ft deep in the dry season).
I start creeping down the bank. My wet croc sandals were squeeking, so I kicked them off and went barefoot. I get to where I seen them go over the slough bank, and raise up for a peek, there they were about 80 to 100 ft away! I raise the pistol and commence with the hostilities. I fired at center mass, they did not move, I fired at hog #1 the second shot. Now they move and I have a shot at#2.
I knew the gun was shooting high, so I aim at the ground under the belly of # 2 and fired again. They both ran up a ridge, hog #2 makes it 15 ft and hits the ground, squeals real loud twice and goes still. I wait about 2 minutes before approaching (thick brush up that ridge, wanted to see if it was down and hog #1 was not hanging around for vengeance). I walk up and poke at it with the bowie knife, no reaction. I still put another round, angling down thru the neck, for good measure.
I call my wife, "I got one" *you what?* "You heard me, I GOT ONE!"
I cut the head and feet off with the bowie knife and gutted it laying on the ground, Every time I grabbed the hind legs and raised it up, about a quart of blood gushed out. A .451 133gr round lead ball, went high behind the shoulder, punched thru a rib put a hole thru both lungs and lodged just under the hide on the far side (still have it, for the memories) I put the field dressed carcass in the bag and carried it across the river. I guesstimate it was a 140 pound hog before field dressing.
I carried it back to my bike about 600 yards and had someone help put it in my lap and I pedaled it about 2 miles home, hung in a tree and skinned it, cut it down the middle with a hacksaw then cut it in quarters and took it in the house and finished my hackjob and what would not fit in the freezer, I gave to the neighbors.
I was running on adrenalin and was sore for days, shooting it was the easy part. But I WANTED that pig and damned if I was gonna fail. here is a pic of my recumbent cycle I fabricated. I pedaled home with it in my lap. My wife and friends would ask "what cut of pork are we eating" *me* "damned if I know, all I know is bacon comes from the belly and ham from the ass, you're eating dead pig".
First big game animal I ever killed, and with a pistol, no less. I was awful proud but I know the pre hunt prayer was the ticket
In some circles I am known as Chief two rabbits, awfull handy with a slingshot, I am!
And in case you were wondering, yes it was legal. You can legally shoot on the river as long as your bullet does not go on private property or shoot across the river (you can shoot from a boat or standing in the river) Hogs are feral and no season or bag limit. Here is a pic of the peace (not where I hunted) I had no camera that day.
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