It’s that time of the year late in the dry season, when most of us keen bow hunters who chase pigs, make the long journey north to The Cape. With the weather testing our patience, the hot and humid conditions hoping to bring some game to ground. I was lucky enough this year to be invited by good friends for another go at hunting The Cape and all it has to offer. This was a great opportunity for a ‘get close and personal’ traditional bow hunter such as myself. As many bow hunters know and who have made the journey from far and wide The Cape is a long way to travel and just getting there is a feat in itself.
As the white lines disappeared to rocks and bull dust we still had another three hours to travel to our hunting destination. The previous week had seen two unseasonable inches of rainfall which is really unheard of at this October time of the year. The land still hard, dry and grassless was making a quick comeback and a sea of matt green covered the ground where water had pooled in shallow depressions for the last week or so. The abundance of bird life was truly overwhelming, with Bustards, Burdekin Ducks, Whistlers, Finches and large Brolgas just to name a few hanging out at the last pools of water which had fallen and had brought the land a reprieve for a week or two. With such a small amount of rain we were optimistic it wasn’t enough to scatter the pigs and most would still be found on the large remaining river systems the property had to offer.
We passed a large mustering camp set up at one of the property’s billabongs, the rain had also wreaked havoc to cattle transport and they were being coached to the property’s higher ground which would allow truck transport to gain access after the late season muster had finished. The property’s homestead came into view and we slowed the truck down to avoid a dust plum which followed the vehicle like a dessert dust storm.
Introductions were made, with many new friends being made and a camp set up in one of the nearby sheds saw out the business end of our day. We were then treated to an unbelievable dinner experience as a few twenty kilo boxes of prawns had defrosted by accident from genny failure during the night … we ate until no more prawns could enter our stomachs … “Ah, so this is what it’s like to eat like a king?”
- Camp for the week.
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- A large swamp on the place
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Another draw card for the pigs at this time of the year is the huge fig trees located along the river banks which give or take a month or two are always in fruit at this time of the year. If you have heard the expression ‘happy as a kid in a lolly shop’ then figs are the lolly shops for Cape pigs. Looking ahead of you and locating a fig tree was a sure bet to nock an arrow for they wouldn’t be too far away, bedded down and not far from the candy store.
My two best pigs for the week came from this tactic and each stalk is embedded into my memory for years to come…..
The first saw me approaching a large fig clearing with a small sow and maybe three or four piglets clearing the ground of recently fallen fruit. All of a sudden a loud grunt was heard and a nice boar trotted into view, he was clearly upset with this tucker being taken before his arrival. Chasing them off, he took over shift and proceeded to pick up the scraps left behind by the previous crew. A quick look through the binos and sure enough a good lip curl and ivory was present and easily visible, as he chewed on the left over fruit.
Now as many of you will know getting in close on the cornflakes, which appeared to be about six inches thick underfoot, is an awesome feat in itself. The Dunlop’s slipped off, pack dropped and arrow nocked, the stalk began…
Twenty or so minutes later found me within five metres and nothing between us but a huge old fig tree. I drew the string on my Checkmate and as the boar moved into view – the arrow was released and in an instant a heart did it take. As the big boar exploded from sheer shock, I don’t know who got a bigger fright me or him and disappeared in a small cloud of dust. I followed quickly, a continuous blood trail was easily traceable and a short time found the boar piled up against a log. I could still see his eyes open and years of experience had told me to be wary as Cape pigs are renowned for fighting to the end. I put another arrow to the string and at two metres the boar jumped and charged me, it was all so very fast! The arrow struck him in the head with such force, bending the alloy shaft and snapping off the broad head insert, he then just simply fell over and expired. I don’t know what he was running on, as a closer inspection showed a clear heart shot. I think a little more respect for such a fine feral animal was gained that day in The Cape. (TC 27 2/8).
- Look close and see the broadhead above the Eye.
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- Great doulble Tusks.
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- Who needs Camo?
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I will remember this Cape trip for a long time to come and how lucky I was to be invited to such a magnificent place. The new friendships I have formed will hold me in good stead in the bow hunting journey I have chosen, and maybe next year I’ll be on the invitation list again, we can only hope.
Cheers Wayno
Thats one great story along with great surpporting pictures, 
very enjoyable. thanks.
Top job Wayno, you've done it again with another very interesting story along with some very nice pictures, thanks again......Bill
