My first Magazine | Page 19

but that wouldn’ t put me off either. It was just wonderful to get out, cradling my near-new. 270 which I knew was shooting accurately.
Wherever I hunt I always enjoy knowing that at least there is always some chance of finding a deer. It’ s like having a Lotto ticket except that you’ ve actually got some control over your chance of bagging the big prize. Stag or hind, I didn’ t mind.
Here and there I found gaps in the trees, off the edge of the ridge, with all kinds of feed growing on them – good spots to maybe get the drop on a handy deer.
There was nothing doing but I was enjoying just being all, all alone in the bush.
I stopped for a snack of chocolate in the silent bush … almost silent though I caught the occasional sound of engine brakes on the main highway far below. Then I realised it wasn’ t engine brakes at all – it was a stag roaring. A thrill went through me like an electric shock. Again! Yes, there was definitely a stag somewhere not too far away. The bush around me wasn’ t so empty after all.
This was no longer just an optimistic wander in the bush: it was a real, fair-dinkum hunt.
First I told myself not to do anything too quickly. Finish the chocolate and wait to hear another roar. Keep cool. Should I roar back? Not yet. With roaring, less is more, so I waited to try and tell the animal’ s direction, and see if he might come closer without my encouragement.
Then I heard it again, this time a longer, low moan. Now I dropped the chocolate back into my pack, s-l-ow-l-y opened the bolt and thumbed three cartridges into the magazine. Closed the bolt on an empty chamber. Slipped the pack on and got to my feet.
Now keep your cool, Rogie, I told myself, don’ t blow this – it could be the chance of a lifetime. Optimistically I started to visualise the possibilities, like it wouldn’ t be a hard carry back to the car …
After another minute I couldn’ t resist a tentative roar, so I put my head back and groaned as convincingly as I could. Just imagine my excitement when there was an immediate answer! I could clearly make out the direction, it was further along the ridge and down to my left.
I was a bit exposed here so I decided to move along about 30 metres towards a patch of shrubs that would provide me with cover to try to roar him in closer. Bent double, I made it to a patch of pepperwoods alongside a fallen log. A perfect ambush spot.
Then I heard another roar – a real hard bellow of a roar that set the blood surging through me. Not for many years had I felt so hypedup while hunting … my heart was hammering and I made myself take a few slow, deep breaths. That stag couldn’ t be more than a couple of hundred metres away. He might come into view any moment. Or I might spot one of his hinds and get a meat animal …
I opened the bolt and softly moved it into the half-open position, pushing a round partway into the breech, and got set up against the log. Next step, target acquisition and identification. Just one more roar first … Well, I certainly was counting my chickens before they hatched. And I wasn’ t at all
A properly dressed hunter waiting and listening in the bush... is he safe? Photo by Brad Ramsay from the 2016 NZDA photo competition( note: Brad was not involved in any way in this story!) prepared for what happened next.
I let out another roar, but in my excitement my voice cracked and it didn’ t come out right at all. And then there happened the last thing that I was expecting. From just out of sight a loud very anxious male human voice called out,“ Don’ t shoot, Trev! It’ s a bloke! It’ s a bloke! Don’ t shoot! It’ s not a deer …”
It took all three of us a while to get over the shock. In the confusion at first I thought the guy was yelling at me not to shoot – and I remember momentarily thinking“ why am I being told off?!” but the message was clear enough to alert us both.
For a minute or two I was shaking like a leaf, but I still managed to clear the rifle and get to my feet before they came up to me. Of course, I was going to identify my target properly – but how could I be sure about them? Did my bungled roar save my life? I’ ll never know for sure. As it turned out, the other hunters seemed more like commonsense types than trigger-happy idiots. We walked out together and they said they’ d been a bit sceptical from the start about my roaring. Huh! But I was too relieved to take offense. They weren’ t about to ignore my roaring, but they weren’ t going to be careless either.
Later I felt even more relieved because initially it hadn’ t crossed my mind that I might have been shot. I had it imagined the other way round – even though I know and understand Rule 4. My imagination was working overtime, recalling how my father used to remind me to think how dreadful it would be to come across a bloke you’ d just shot. Often he’ d point at an exit wound on a deer or a goat and say,“ Just imagine seeing that on a person – and knowing that you were responsible.”
He certainly made the message clear and I’ m grateful for that.
Later on when the first shock had worn off I felt some disappointment about having missed out on a deer. But I reminded myself that the outcome had been good for all parties. So I felt OK about how things had turned out.
But it reminded me never to be complacent. To take special care when roaring, and always to remember to positively identify your target.
Please be safe this Roar.
NZ Hunting & Wildlife 196- Autumn 2017 17