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Recently, I combined a work trip with some hunting on two properties in north-western Queensland. I arrived on Tuesday afternoon, settled in and caught up with the owner, who remarked there were pigs around.
Next morning we drove around the 25,000 acres and checked out all the dams and turkey nests. Nothing in sight.
Over the next few days we combined work with some hunting on both properties. No luck.
Then on the Friday the owner took off to help a mate on another property and I went out on my own. I drove out to the back paddock and climbed a turkey nest.
From the top, I saw movement out of the corner of my left eye and, turning around slowly, I saw a sow with six piglets.
I quickly flicked the safety off my old Tikka M65 .270 and shot her, then proceeded to shoot three of the largest suckers.
Next day, after a hearty breakfast, I went out to the closest dam, pulled up in the shade and saw what I thought in the distance was a pig’s butt.
Looking through the binos, I realised there were several pigs. I jumped out, grabbed the .270 and started walking through the bushes.
About 100 metres away from the pigs, I squatted down beside a tree and, as the pigs were unaware of my presence, I took my time just looking at them as they grazed peacefully.
Suddenly, the largest boar got very interested in the sow and just as he was in the act, I added some lead to his pencil.
Down he went and the next boar decided to have a look at the sow. He went down on the next shot and the rest of the pigs couldn’t figure out what was happening.
I went to reload and take out the sow but jammed the rifle.
They soon figured out danger was present and took off, but I had a good time and scored a few pigs.
— by Karl Penna
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