There was a change of colour amoung the dull grey green of the scrub. The appearance of a soft brown patch had me look through my Burris scope to see a beautiful hind who then presented out of the scrub completely. She grazed, loked about, sniffed the wind and found nought. Her movements were light, fine and nimble. As quickly as she appeared she was gone from my view. A bare second later and a small group of hinds materialised into the picture.
So often had I read of this just happening before the eyes of hunters and I had now seen it for myself. The second group appeared. My target hind selected herself by moving away fromthe others and all the training and learning now beagan to click into place.
Controlling my breathing, I took up the trigger pressure on the M48 8mm Mauser as the reticle settled on her high shoulder 157 metres away. At the shot, which took out her upper lungs and spine, she collapsed without further movement onto the wet grass.
Hurrying over, we got to her and stroked her neck, uttering the Nordic hunter’s “Weidmanstank” – a woodsman’s thanks. Reflection around the campfire with my son Campbell round off a marvellous day.
Peter Elliot
0 Comments