HOB issue 23 – April/May 2011
Bren is quite muscular but short and stocky as holders go. He had been given up on by others who were too busy to hunt him. We had trialled him on several hunts before and he was certainly keen. Although our hunting wagon is usually full, Bren has some characteristics that are handy in any team so we make extra room.
We generally catch pigs every time we hunt Bren and the bigger the pigs we catch, the keener he gets. One of the traits Bren has is to stand over a pig once its dead. Nobody can get near it. Now I know what you’re thinking, “shoot the bastard”! But just hang on a minute and let me tell the story.
I loaded all the gear into the ‘pig rig’ and left the farm for Wyndham, a small one horse village between Invercargill and Gore. I picked up my usual hunting companions, Chris and Mark and we headed to the pine block we had a permit for in the back of Kaitangata. We backed up to the gate and unloaded the four-wheeled horse and headed off to an area where we’d caught pigs before.
On the edge of the first main gully, we parked up the bike and went on foot to get into the rubbishy stuff as most of the local hunters generally just hunt the roads. In tow, we had my four dogs and a new pup. My main dog is Fay – a border collie/bully bitzer only 2 years old but really showing a lot of promise. Tiki is an 18-month-old border collie/American bulldog. Jake is one year old English pointer/dogo/grey hound. Zoe is an 18-month-old boxer/whippet and Manu is an 8-month-old mastiff/lab/American bulldog who was on her first hunt.
Along with Mark’s six-year-old finder/bailer greyhound X called Luke, we headed down the gorse and across the first creek, with the usual whining from the pup at its first crossing. Manu was about to get a few more lessons out of the kennel. We hit our first bit of sign and the dogs disappeared into the thick stuff. It was not long before the mutts lit up, they were onto a small one that wouldn’t stand a show with all those keen buggers.
I was standing on a rise waiting for them to return when a rustle in the bushes about 25m away caught my attention. A black pig of about 40lbs was hiking it with Manu, about the same size, fair up its chuff. We were pissing ourselves as we watched the pair disappear up the hill behind us. I tried to call Manu back but I didn’t have a show with no GPS collar on her.
As soon as Fay come back, I sent her off on the scent, she soon caught up and stopped the small pig pretty quickly. As we like to let about 60% of our pigs go, we were on our way. There was Manu – holding on for death – what a classic! She was pretty disgusted when we released her pig. Giving it five minutes, we headed off again but we didn’t get far before that bloody weaner squealed again. Porky was released again, a little worse for wear this time.
We carried on hunting into the next valley and on top of the next ridge until we hit the forestry road. With Tiki and Luke showing a bit of interest into the wind, we watched them on the GPS out to 150 meters but then they returned. We carried on around the next corner and Fay was off until she hit the same line the other dogs had been on ten minutes before… 100m, 200m, 300; we watched the Garmin screen with its usual squiggles.
We knew it was only a matter of time and soon enough the usual bark sent the rest of the pack into action. One, two, three dogs in, a big bash up, we knew it was a goody. Then Tiki and Jake hit and it was all on. Cutting off the road and through the gorse, we hit the battle scene where the dogs were holding a huge ginger boar. I dragged it clear off the rubbish and stuck it behind the front shoulder. It was ours!
Bren immediately went into action with his stand-over tactics, wanting his piece of the action. At this point, Mark and Chris were glad we’d brought him. You see, Bren (real name Brennan) is a young fit bricklayer and he’s also the hooker for our local start-studded rugby team. Our team has boasted some famous names in recent years: Rutledge, Mackintosh, Dermody and Cowan.
Bren just loves getting that pig on his back and he doesn’t like giving it up, which is a real problem. Mark and Chris humped the beast onto him, by this stage I was halfway up the hill, keeping enough distance and egging him along up the steep bank. Pushing a track through the gorse, our holder had finally met his match. But he wasn’t giving up just yet. Slipping, stumbling and crashing through the crap, we made it onto the road. We gave our new holder a few minutes to catch his breath. Leaving the pig on the side of the road, we decided to cross the next watershed and head back to the bike on the farm egde, an easy 2km walk. On an earlier hunt, Mark had run into a feisty boar of about 120lbs that had been living in the bush gut near the farm edge. We decided it was worth a look on the way back. Cutting down into the native, we saw pig sign everywhere and it wasn’t long before the dogs opened up on another small one.
Mark set off to have a sort out while Chris, Bren and I headed up to the farm edge, calling the dogs off at the same time. As they came back one at a time, we heard Mark screaming and ranting. More ranting about needing a hand or something sent the three of us down to all the noise, only to find Mark upside down holding a weaner and trying to educate an 8-month-old pup that it’s OK to let some pigs go.
After a wee sort out, we were back up onto the farm edge for the walk back. Then there was a bit more education with the pup about white woolly pigs and all was good when Chris looked over to see a mob of sheep parting like the Red Sea and a huge boar making his escape. He had a bit of a head start and we couldn’t get there soon enough when 500 meters felt like 2kms.
With the dog’s straight on the boar’s trail as he headed into the pines, we cut across the top of the grassy ridge, expecting the pig to break back across. With a bit of extra leg, Luke was first on the scene at the bottom of the next gully and with the rest of the crew straight in, a full battle rang out. We sneaked down the hill to see the pack on an open swamp going hard out on the massive boar. Picking a good moment, we raced in and tried to flip him and finish him off before he inflicted too much damage.
By that stage we were all pumped – two good boars! With a mother of a steep hill in front of him, our number one holder Bren wasn’t so possessive over this one. Mark decided to head back for the bike while the rest of us lumped the bog carcass up the hill. Man, we were glad to see that bike. With the first boar weighing 200lbs and the second (a much younger pig) weighing 193lbs, it puts Brennan into the 2T club. Good on ya, mate.
Greg Deal