Amateur pig hunting: 10 tips for success

Since I had never fired a gun or seen a pig in the wild, it could be said that I was a hunter without much experience, but when the opportunity presented itself, my enthusiasm qualified me to join an expedition. There are no pigeons or rats for this buccaneer, my first death would result from a “life or death” situation. Kill or be killed, I reflected as I imagined myself facing the power of a charging boar. Sights lined up, shooter ready, Beast against Bullet.

As it turned out, the only time I saw bullets that day was when they fell from the kitchen table while we were packing up our gear. I flinched like I had just been stung by a wasp as they bounced off the concrete floor. The only beaten eyes were in my direction. Harden yourselves, I thought, we are going to kill pigs.

So my two companions, a complete stranger and a friend of a friend, had guns, knives, and full camouflage gear, while I had a bottle of water and a camera. They told me there were other weapons, namely Rat and Mouse, two specially bred pig dogs. They belonged to the most ardent hunter in the area and their home was a sanctuary to his exploits as a marksman. They were tied, along with ten other dogs, to the base of a large dead tree. The bark was black and the branches bare except for the hundreds of skulls that hung there. The empty eye sockets stared out from the deer skulls as their antlers twisted together like ghoulish foliage. The jawbones of wild pigs, with enormous pairs of fangs, hung in rows and taunted me. The dogs howled and screamed and yanked at their restraints. ‘Choose me, choose me,’ they barked. Careful not to walk in the bundles of traps and traps at my feet, I walked away from the scene.

In my judgment, the dogs were a greyhound-bull mastiff cross. “Quick and nasty,” they told me. So tip number 1: get dogs.

We headed out into the rugged hills of New Zealand’s South Island, with our guns and dogs and a sense of direction only my companions knew. I assumed I would follow them and try not to get shot, but my assumptions were wrong. Following someone else’s trail, they assured me, could be suicide, as the hills were riddled with hornet nests. If someone disturbs a nest, it is the one who follows who suffers the consequences. Tip 2: go your own way.

As we walked down a stream in a cool, shady ravine, my two guides discussed our tactics. When one of them pointed to the ridge to the side of us, I knew a climb awaited us. And we went up we did, for about 45 minutes, up a slope of about 55 degrees. Traveling through thick bushes is quite difficult on the ground, but at this angle it was a hell of a fight. Tip 3: stay in shape.

I finally reached the ridge and faced the heat of the day for the first time. It was early in the morning but already in the mid-20s. As our next route was being discussed, beyond listening distance, I realized that I would have no voice or information, until I opened my mouth. “Where are we going now,” I asked him between gasps of air. “After the pigs,” was the reply. Tip 4: Don’t ask stupid questions.

We slide down the other side of the ridge and rest in the shady ravine at its base. There was no sign of the dogs since we left the car. There were also no signs of pigs. Tip 5: Don’t get your hopes up.

I kicked a piece of mud into a small pool next to me. At that moment, I heard rummaging nearby. Adrenaline began to flow as I imagined the pig charging in my direction. My guides didn’t seem very excited so I took their tail to be calm. Suddenly the dogs came out of the bushes and scampered around us. One of them was lying in the pool next to me. It was a pig bath, they duly told me. He stood there and rolled in the mud, smelled the pigs, looked through their eyes, had become, for a moment, the pig and then went in another direction. “We’re on the move,” I heard someone mutter.

I searched blindly through the bushes, trying to avoid the hornet’s nests. One of my companions pointed to a broken branch or a skinned tree and said they were pig marks. Sure, I thought. With every forced step and every scratch on my face, my enthusiasm faded. I was hoping we wouldn’t find a pig because I imagined dragging the thing back to the jeep, covered in its blood, infected by its fleas, drooling as it tried to carry its enormous weight. But then I thought, well, if we don’t find a pig, why the hell am I here? Why am I climbing another hill, getting another scratch on my face, twisting another ankle in the undergrowth if there is no prize at the end? My apathy turned to determination. Tip 6: stay focused

We kept up with the dogs as best we could, resting when we could. Tip 7: Don’t sit on the ground when there are hunting dogs, unless you want a thick layer of greasy saliva all over your head and a gaggy, death-tasting breath of breath.

I savored some fantastic views during my hike and as during one of these moments, as I was catching my breath and losing my breath again seeing the scenery, there was a nearby creak. The body language of my colleagues meant this was the real deal. A silent dog, I was told, was a killer dog. A barking dog was one that encountered a pig so large that it needed reinforcement. The chorus of barking that followed was a huge one. I heard some branches snapping and some grunts that sounded unworldly. The growls intensified, grew louder, and morphed into full-blooded screams, like those of a stuck pig, I suppose.

I caught a glimpse of his massive shoulders as he darted through the undergrowth. I took my 22 rifle; The one my mind told me should be hanging from my shoulder I grabbed my nonexistent knife clip to unleash the hunting saber that gave me my adrenaline rush. I stood up, grounded with only clenched fists and teeth to defend myself. Tip 8; Bring weapons.

Fortunately for me, the noise faded away, was carried in the opposite direction, and was lost in the history of another day. My companions saw fit to climb two more ridges, but even I knew that the hunt was over and that the fleeting glimpse was the closest I could get. No shots, no blood, no addition to the skull tree

Unbeknownst to me, we had completed a full cycle and finished at the beginning. Tip 9: make a loop, for the sake of all your bodily functions.

Safe and well, I withered in the back seat of the jeep. All things considered; gunshots, cuts to the fangs and wasp stings, steep slopes and exposed ridges, my imagination had been my most dangerous enemy. Which brings me to Tip 10: Learn to hunt pigeons and rats before 500 pound beasts. But you already knew that.