Apex Predator
Senior Member
Amazingly enough, the day after I quit compounds for good I get my first traditional harvest! I have been hunting an island out in the marsh of a local river system. The hogs spend most of the day out in the marsh and mostly just use this island during the night. Major trails are located on each end of this island. My buddy and I have stands set up at each end. The island is only 3-4 acres. It is covered by rub trees and wallows. I finally had a nice one give me a shot at 12 yards! At the shot he grunted and just trotted off. The hit was quartering away, and I swear half my arrow was sticking out. The angle was just over 45 or so. I heard my broad head stop on the opposite leg. A tracking job like I have nightmares about ensued. He was not bleeding much out of one hole and then headed for the thick stuff. Briars, sawgrass, and small saplings that you can't see the ground through while standing up! He ran down these tunnels that the rabbits, I mean hogs, make.
We both met up at the boat at dark, because we were worried that it would be high and dry and leave us out a few extra hours. We trimmed our gear to tracking lights, marking tissue, and a few other essentials. We knew how thick these places were so didn't take a bow. We both wish we had a big handgun for insurance
Back on the trail! As he entered the briers about 100 yards down the blood trail, he started to bleed a little better. My buddy was not wanting to go after him through this mess. He took up the rear! On Hands and knees we trailed. I had to continuely re-assure my buddy about the hit, but I was still uneasy myself. We were very close to the interstate highway now. The sounds of traffic drowned out any hopes of being forewarned of a idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiot off boar charge. I found a baseball bat sized log that I was using to knock the briers down along the tunnel. I don't think it would have fazed a mean, wounded boar. Pretty soon we came to a fence! Peering through the fence we realized that it was the fence marking the shoulder of the highway. There was a very well used trail right along the edge of the fence that this hog ran down. We quickly came to some briers that we could not penetrate. We circled around back to the fence hoping to cut off some of the thicker stuff. As I approached the fence, I turned quickly back towards my buddy and took a couple of quick steps towards him like something was charging. The look on his face was priceless. He is 6'5" and continuely tangled in these briers. I then told him that the hog was laying by the fence dead.
My bow was back at the truck! We decided to take some photos and dress him where he lay. I really wanted to have my Robertson Stykbow in the photo, but it was already quite late. I didn't realize that the fence was in the photo until we were back home. Oh well! I can assure you this was not a fenced enclosure! It was the time of my life!
The boar was a beautiful young one and probably weighed 150-175 pounds. He only had little nubbins for tusks though. I guess it's genetic. There sure are some with tusks though, because we have been seeing plenty of cut hogs.
Thanks for listening!
We both met up at the boat at dark, because we were worried that it would be high and dry and leave us out a few extra hours. We trimmed our gear to tracking lights, marking tissue, and a few other essentials. We knew how thick these places were so didn't take a bow. We both wish we had a big handgun for insurance
Back on the trail! As he entered the briers about 100 yards down the blood trail, he started to bleed a little better. My buddy was not wanting to go after him through this mess. He took up the rear! On Hands and knees we trailed. I had to continuely re-assure my buddy about the hit, but I was still uneasy myself. We were very close to the interstate highway now. The sounds of traffic drowned out any hopes of being forewarned of a idiotidiotidiotidiotidiotidiot off boar charge. I found a baseball bat sized log that I was using to knock the briers down along the tunnel. I don't think it would have fazed a mean, wounded boar. Pretty soon we came to a fence! Peering through the fence we realized that it was the fence marking the shoulder of the highway. There was a very well used trail right along the edge of the fence that this hog ran down. We quickly came to some briers that we could not penetrate. We circled around back to the fence hoping to cut off some of the thicker stuff. As I approached the fence, I turned quickly back towards my buddy and took a couple of quick steps towards him like something was charging. The look on his face was priceless. He is 6'5" and continuely tangled in these briers. I then told him that the hog was laying by the fence dead.
My bow was back at the truck! We decided to take some photos and dress him where he lay. I really wanted to have my Robertson Stykbow in the photo, but it was already quite late. I didn't realize that the fence was in the photo until we were back home. Oh well! I can assure you this was not a fenced enclosure! It was the time of my life!
The boar was a beautiful young one and probably weighed 150-175 pounds. He only had little nubbins for tusks though. I guess it's genetic. There sure are some with tusks though, because we have been seeing plenty of cut hogs.
Thanks for listening!
The The Gods of the hunt have blest you with blood. Outstanding story and a trophy that will forever live in your memory. 
