After seeing all these photos of you blokes going out “the back of the farm” and nailing big stags I thought I’d go have a look.
Right on dusk I set out. Started climbing the hill in my far paddock approaching the bushline. About 100m distant noticed a bit of movement, the flick of an ear. I quickly fell to a prone position, cradling the fore stock and looking through the scope. There he was. Took a few moments to get my breathing under control, before gently squeezing the trigger. A 40gr pill zipped out of the barrel, pushing 1100fps. It was on target. It struck the beast, shattering bone. Letting out a mighty death squeak, it keeled over backwards, tumbling 20m down a bank, making the recovery needlessly precarious. Needless to say, I was up to the challenge, I wasn’t going to let this meat go to waste. I’m on the board boys!
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