Late last week, my father and I came to the conclusion that it had been far too long since we'd been out hunting together, so a plan was quickly formed to correct that and (hopefully) restock the freezer at the same time. A quick phone call was made to confirm access and we were good to go at the break of dawn after a leisurely lunch today.
Our arrival at the block was slightly tempered by the sighting of 40-odd goats 30 metres from the road-side, as they were sadly on a stretch of land just outside the boundaries of our hunting area. A pity that goats don't respect such a boundary and stay where they should!
Putting that aside we threw the backpacks on and filled the rifle before hitting the hill. It wasn't long before we spotted three goats sitting proudly just below the ridgeline a fair distance above us, but they'd also spotted us and made their way casually to better cover. We zig-zagged our way up the steep gorse-enclosed trails towards the top of the face, stopping only to gasp for breath lock gazes with an astonished wallaby peering around a bush before it rapidly turned tail. As we were just about to step over the ridge onto the flat, where I had hoped the goats might be foolishly waiting within range, I blinked and looked towards the low side of the trail, where two goats lay in a warm rocky pocket, less than 10 metres away. As I chambered a round and popped the lens caps open, the smarter of the pair elected to bail downhill, rapidly disappearing into the thick gorse. No. 2, however, was not so bright, and merely took 3 steps away, before pausing for a moment to stare at the retreating tail of its former friend. Punishment for such foolishness was delivered at 3750fps. My initial reaction that it was in poor condition was confirmed with a closer look at the animal, but this was no great loss as the farmer is always happy for us to thin down the numbers. A little less lively now, it was sent down the hill all the same. Smart decision maker No. 1 was briefly sighted again on a cross-track well below us, but my hurried shot from a less than well-braced position merely injected a 40gr mineral sample into the soil beside its neck.
As we sat and looked across the hillside beneath us, a larger mob was sighted, having just stepped out of the forestry that borders the block. Knowing we could get close if they stuck around, we ducked into the edge of the forestry and headed downhill, hoping to pop out close enough for some easy kills. 15 minutes later and after glimpses of our quarry through thorned windows, I handed my father the rifle as we stalked towards a convenient gorse barricade just 20 metres shy of the 10-strong mob. After a first-round miss was promptly followed by two solid hits resulting in two goats on the ground and the rest of the mob heading for cover, he turned to hand my rifle back with the comment "that trigger is fairly fragile". We broke out the knives and got to work removing legs. Just as we wrapped up, he called my attention to the face, pointing out the remaining 8 goats traversing the hillside on their way upwards.
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They kept moving after this photo was taken, turning to the left and moving upwards until just past the top-left corner of the image, where they conveniently stopped a dozen metres below the ridge. After a quick query of the rangefinder and consultation of the data-card for the indicated range of 320y (less a little for angle) I dialled my 4 clicks and settled myself down behind the shooting sticks. A few measured trigger pulls and three more goats threw their legs towards the sky in surrender.
Some time later, after we had hauled ourselves back up the hill, we stepped onto the clear space the goats had fallen on, only to see an extra from the herd had decided to keep its fallen comrades company without the necessary qualifier of being dead. I politely told it to remove itself from the area, but after 10 seconds of feeble goat-brains failing to grasp the message, I decided it looked like it might be a decent eater after all and rescinded my offer of safe passage. We dragged the goats into the centre from where they had fallen and got to work with the knives on the two in the best condition, after a quick photo.
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Laden with goat legs, we decided it was time to start the trek back to the car, thankfully all downhill from there. We had deposited the legs off the first goats beside the track before we headed for the sky again, so it was a simple matter of a short detour in the car to fetch them, before heading for home and a well-earned cold beer. The dozen goat legs now hanging in the garage should keep the freezer topped up for a while yet.
Thanks for reading. :)
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60% off goat mobs, today only!
