Would you like a warthog?
Would you like a warthog?” the PH, Nick asked. Yes, said I. We pulled off the gravel road and through a gate onto a service trail, working our way closer to the hog. Finally, pulling over, and the shooting sticks went up. “215yds,” he says. BOOM, the reassuring thud, and a good shot called out.
But wait. Where did that pig go with my tusks? Up the steep hill, we went looking for blood. We were following a good blood trail as the trusty Mr. Russell; Jack was on the track. It seems he has a real affinity for pork. It took a while for Jack to find my pig but not long to get our attention with a sharp bark. One of our trackers said something in his soft native Xhosa, “fumene igazi,” interpreted by our Professional Hunter as “he’s got blood.”
As we quickly followed the barking, the dog and boar came into view. The dog slowed down the pig with remarkable courage and technique… something about nipping off the family jewels gets them all kinds of excited.
I followed the dog looking for a second shot–busting brush like only a properly raised bramble-busting hillbilly can do-I heard the PH behind me; don’t shoot the dog! Never considered it, but it was our first hunt together, and as he said, I was in a zone. I suppose the way I walked through thorns must have given him an impression.
Finally, the boar turns to fight
Finally, the boar turns to fight and then to run: SHOOT, SHOOT, SHOOT, the PH yells from behind, BANG another round into the boar’s left flank, quartering away. Two solid hits from the 280 and that son-of-a-pork-rind trotted off again, but Jack was on him like he owed him money!
Twenty yards farther and down he went with the Jack on top.
My first pig ever and my first trophy on my African hunt, and hunting over that fearless terrier reminded me why people hunt with dogs! Fantastic.
Tune in later for the next edition of “A Plumber in Africa.”