Some days you wonder if your destined to fail then everything turns around. This is one of those stories.
But first a Cast of Characters:-
Myself - a very average hunter
Dan - a complete newbie, 2nd ever hunting trip
Steve - not the greatest hunter in the world but a shit hot shot (normally)
Sunday afternoon arrived with just enough cloud and breeze that it only felt like we were on slow bake, not full grill. So it must be time to go hunting!
Dan was running late so it was 5pm when we arrived at the forest, not a bad thing with the heat, giving the goats time to move into the open. After the usual arguments with the gate locks we were in and out came the binoculars. It was about then I make the classic mistake and said "we're bound to see some down on the flats". Hmmm nothing seen so we drive further in and park at my usual vantage spot looking down onto the flat. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Bum.
Drive down onto the flat and out to the end. Usually there are animals on the plateau on the other side of the valley. Still nothing so we sneak out to the edge of the gut thinking the goat might be down by the creek but alas still nothing till we look right up to the boundary fence and see half a dozen goats sitting in the neighbours watching us, hmmmm. Then a bleat, much closer. We couldn't see anything so moved to the next spur when a wee black goat showed itself. It was too far for Dan so Steve settled in for the shot at 250ish metres this is not the sort of shot Steve misses. Bang, the goat jumps a foot into the air, spins around and said "what the #-%k". "Where did it hit?", "low and underneath". Bang (and its a big bang too), miss. "Where did it hit", "under its arse". Shit.
At this point we spotted an group of goats moving up from the creek to our bulletproof mate. Steve was gearing for another go, when I spelt out the options
1- keep shooting from here (and they weren't getting any closer
2- drive round the head of the valley and seek in from the top.
Vote carried, back in the ute and off up the track with best laid plans and all that.
Heading up goat hill (yes it really is called that) I look out the window to see a brown tree stump grazing in the cutover. Now I don't see too many walking tree stumps so stop to look, followed by a burst of action from Steve and Dan to setup and take a shot at 4 goats. By the time I had even got the rifle out of the back, they had both fire off a shot and the goat bounded unharmed into the nearby pines. This was not the day I was expecting.
Back in the ute, and right round to the other side to sneak up on original goats. We slip down the hill and suggest we walk around the boundary to see if we can get close to the neighbours goat which we can have a go at. I spot a nanny with kids at the same time she spotted me, so Steve slips over the top of the hill to ambush. Suddenly he was waving his arms around and charging like a demented Teletubby. Turned out there were 20 or more sitting there and he spooked them all and tried to herd them back to us. The nearby manuka gully was more appealing to them. This day was going so well! We looked over the edge where the other goats should be and nothing, so decided to drop down to the plateau in the hope they were still down there and low and behold there is the little black goat, but not for long, as she was quickly despatched. On inspection Steve had clipped it with the second bullet, just the slightest nick on a back hoof. There was barely enough meat on it to feed a starving weasel, so it was left there and the march back to the ute began.
150m from the wagon I glance over a bank and there's a billy grazing there. I slammed the bolt forward, the rifle came up and no bang. Bum. Again. Goat cleared off into the bush. would nothing go right today?
Its was now 7pm, and no one was impressed with the results, we decided to have a quick look round where the haulers were working. As we go along as we discuss the whether a semiauto would be more useful for the culling that is needed in the forest. Steve felt there wasn't a need but I wasn't so sure. There was nothing at the first hauler so we swung out onto a landing just passed the second hauler. I stepped out of the wagon lifting the binoculars to my eyes and then promptly put them back down as there were 20+ goats string at us. Even Dan spotted them and suddenly we were men of action. Three rifle were set up and Steve fired the first shot just as the goats moved into first gear. Dan fired, as they hit second, then Steve fired and they all stopped! Bang - thwack, one down, then they were back in third gear. What followed a classic demonstration of why none of us would never win a running boar competition and why a 3 shot magazine is a right pain in the arse when you are staring at that many goats. After the third magazine full we realized they had stepped onto the road.
Back into the ute and we sped round the corner, and finally things came right, we were right on there tail, we pulled up, 3 shot were fire and 3 goat went down. Meat at last and all on the road!
So how do you sum up a hunt like that? Maybe never give up, or maybe a comedy of errors?
