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Even though the above thread has gone a bit off the trail somewhere several pages in, I am really enjoying reading some of those off trail posts reminiscing times before my time. So I am really keen to hear more from anyone who hunted or shot in an era that modern hunters / shooters might not recognise. I am interested in relatable stories from a time that might be unrelatable.
I used to hunt the Puketois. Access was through private and the hunting was in the public stuff. It was sort of land locked so hardly anyone hunted there. And I knew most hunters in the district and where they hunted so I thought I had the area to myself. Selling meat so got to know it well. I tended to go back to the same hot spots and treated them all like I owned them. One was a look out over a nice slip and I used to sit by a big old broad leaf to glass. I got into the habit of banging my spent cases into the tree with a stone, and there ended up to be quite a few. Maybe a dozen -.223 and 22.250.
One day to my shock and horror I got there and there was a .270 case banged in there amongst them. I nearly died at the sight of it. I thought I had been violated :)
I had grown to have such high ownership of the spot I never imagined anyone else would dare hunt there. But I had no right to the place, and other hunters could have easily come in over the top from the western side or sidled around to it from the next property. Nearly 50 years ago and I can still feel my indignation.
I can also remember taking a mate to one of those spots and 3 deer came out. They were about 200 yards away, and we agreed that they had to be head shot. We didn't do any of that count down stuff in those days, it all started with "I'm ready, bang". Sometimes "I can see one, bang". So I got the first shot in and bowled mine. Malc quickly dispatched the other 2 (Sako .222). When we got over there mine was head shot and Malcs 2 were neck and front of the shoulder shot. When I ragged him about them not being head shot he said "oh, I thought that was more a guideline than a rule". It was the first time I had ever heard that expression and it made me laugh. It became a stock expression between us. Boy's culture.
Me with the one I shot. The rifle is a Winchester m70 22.250
Attachment 274354
The 270 case reminds me a bit of the ancient joke about the guy in the pub will a full glass of beer, dying for a piss. To protect his glass he wrote on something (beer coaster maybe) "I have spat in this glass". On returning, someone had written under his writing "so have I".
Asked to see an old bloke in his 90's on friday. Very alert but frail.*Keen hunter in his time. Knew a large farm which had huge fat deer. Called it the goose neck because the main body of the farm was at back. Trouble was the farm house was in the middle and the dog kennels were next to it and next to the bush boundary. Many had tried but were caught because of the dogs.His brother worked in the freezing works. Contacted him. Pulled in 2 mates and they snuck it. Before they got to the dog kennels he told his mates to cut a long manuka branch with forks at top. They laughed at him. Out came the strips of beef and were attached to the stick.Told his mates to hoist the stick in the air and walk to the kennels which were on a bend. He told them the dogs could smell and hear them before they saw them.He surmised the dogs had an exclusive diet of mutton and the tantalising smell of beef would quiet them. Came to kennels. Picked out the lead dog and fed him first then the rest. Not a howl. Out the back nailed 2 stags. On the way back another feed of heart and liver. They did this for years. In spring they gave the dogs 1/2 the velvet as another treat.Took in a hacksaw blade. The rest was for the local chinese market gardener well before viagra was in vogue. He said he never sold meat and only took meat to feed his family. Bloody hard case.
You mix with some rat bags alright.Quote:
Originally Posted by TeRei
