Brian says "that its good to miss one every now and again, 'cos it brings you back down to earth". Never a truer word said.
And I was getting a bit cocky.
We were heading off to do a days' lamb drafting, dagging etc for a farmer friend so we went up the night prior for a hunt. I checked the .223's zero before we left and as an after thought did the 270wsm too and took both of them. They were both spot on.
We were on the hill in plenty of time which would mean a bit of sitting around waiting for the 28 degree heat to drop a bit. My experience has been that during dry spells the deer do that too. But there is always an exception because as soon as I got some elevation on I straight away spotted a couple of Fallow over were Brian was - I radioed him to tell him but it turned out he never got onto them. An hour later though he radioed to say he was onto a couple more - and I found them in my binos - and saw one drop before I heard the bang. 200 yard shot with his 300mag made short work of it.
So it was now left to me to get one. Dark was coming and I had only seen Red hinds and fawns, so I glassed back over to where I had seen the original 2 and there were 5. I radioed Brian to say I was going for them and set off on the KM stalk. I got 180 yards opposite them and saw that one was a spiker. Facing me. Too easy. I had a good rest with the .223 but was pretty casual as I lined up at the base of te neck. I fired, and was amazed that it didn't drop. It ran. I thought "it will tip over soon". I put my rifle down and looked through my binos. 5 unharmed Fallow were legging it for cover. The spiker even did a silly little skip and dance like they do. Mocking me.
With my tail between my legs I radioed Brian to say what happed. He asked if we should drive to town immediately to get me into therapy (not really).
I was now a long way from Brian and had a big circular walk to get back to the quad which took me to 10pm. I collected Brian and his meat at 10.30pm and we got to bed at midnight.
We were up at 5.30am and drafting sheep by 7am. Then dagging. Vaccinating. Drenching. Spraying. In the heat. We are old men. By the end we were broken old men.
But I had a score to settle. So rather than drive home at the end of the day we elected to go for another hunt. Silly old bastards.
True to form, Brian called to say he had shot a Fallow spiker at the same spot, at about the same time as the night before. That really pissed me off :)
The wind was wrong for me so I had to do a big loop through the scrub to a different area and lookout spot. By 7pm I had seen a couple of Red hinds and fawns a good way off and that was it. At 8pm I shifted to a new spot. 8.30 and I was opposite an open ridge and glassing a big chunk of country - and then there was a spiker opposite and below me. In the clear, but moving towards cover again.
I had the 270wsm set up (bugger the .223 :) ) so all I had to do was get in behind it and slip a round in. Then a brief self slapping "take your time, aim small, if it walks and you don't get it its not the end of the world (yeah, right)". It stopped angled away and looked back to where it had come. I got a good sight picture and this time did was I was meant to. The 150 grn Berger pole axed it, and it slid back down into cover.
I was at the dot, and the stag at the X. A couple of hundred yards.
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Now I had to cross the gully and get it. I didn't like that much. Fortunately it hadn't slid far.
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He was a big lump of a spiker.
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I enjoy butchering so I frigged around disassembling him and getting ready for the carry. One shoulder was spoilt with the shot but the other was fine, so I had 3 legs, back steaks and inside steaks. I put the shoulder and backsteaks into my new pack (from Bush Life NZ - great value at $167 and and a good 40L day pack - I like light packs) and left the HQ's to hoist over my shoulders.
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I now had to lug it all up the big dry ridge to the top. Not an hours prospect that I was looking forward to. It was still 25 degrees.
Any way, off I set all loaded up.
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After about 45 minutes I had the top in sight so I dumped the load and ferried it up over 3 trips for the last 15minutes. Then I left it all and popped around a corner for one last look into a gully nearby. Nothing.
So now I walked the 20. mins back to the iron horse (bless it), drove it to my stash, loaded up and headed off to meat Brian. It was just on dark when we met up.
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A 30 minute ride and we were back at my ute. Sore and tired.
Its a 3hr drive home via Brian's where we hung the meat in his chiller and then I was off home to bed. I crawled in next to my wife at 1.30am. She never moved a muscle, but I think she was bluffing. Little did she know that I was in no fit state for any hanky panky - that certainly would have been a bridge too far :)
