G'day All,
I had a very good experience this morning, going for a leisurely hunt with my lady.
Actually, I left her sitting in the shade by a spring-fed creek at one point, while I strolled out into the hilly country to see what I could find. I culled a pair of donkeys with my homemade .54" roundballs, but they were too far away to take the camera back in the heat and rocks. It was pretty exhausting pursuing them there.
Picking my way back over the heated jumble of rocks, I contemplated the mistake of not having my rifle reloaded. After all, there were buffalo that I was ignoring. But they looked peaceable enough. I thought it'd be embarrassing if a boar - rare as hen's teeth in these parts - decided to show. I was lost in that little thought when across the valley and on the other side of the creek I spotted cattle moving to the water. We've been struggling to find the cows and calves lately, finding only the big bulls. My hopes raised, and I quickly reloaded and set a course to intercept them, knowing they were heading towards my lady.
As I neared, and crept through the scrub along the creek, I saw three large bulls. I thought cows and calves might be following, but they were just more buffalo.
Then the bulls cut the wind, and became guarded. The lead bull turned around and walked away, and the others followed. As I was able, I crouched and stalked my way closer. I knew that my lady was somewhere to my front, so I had to wait for the bulls to give me a safer line of fire. This they did, and paused nicely, still unsure. I had chosen the rear-most bull, due to his unusual horns, large and downturned.
I aimed as small as I could resting on the side of a tree about fifty yards away, maybe forty-five. I was aiming for the heart. When the smoke cleared, the front two were departing and the bull I shot was crashing - within seconds of being hit he was down, never to rise again. I put three more roundballs in to make damn sure, as these things scare the hell out of me.
Back home, there were some very happy people and dogs when my lady and I returned bearing the gifts of the bush.
While I was stalking the bulls, my lady took some great photos of them! I'll attach one. You can clearly see the rear-most bull with his funky horns, and although I'm not visible, I'm somewhere in the brush on the other side waiting for a safe shooting lane and a good opportunity.
The rifle is a .54" CVA Mountain Rifle. I'm proud of my homemade cast roundballs. The load was 100 grains of Alliant Black MZ.
Kind regards,
Ben
I had a very good experience this morning, going for a leisurely hunt with my lady.
Actually, I left her sitting in the shade by a spring-fed creek at one point, while I strolled out into the hilly country to see what I could find. I culled a pair of donkeys with my homemade .54" roundballs, but they were too far away to take the camera back in the heat and rocks. It was pretty exhausting pursuing them there.
Picking my way back over the heated jumble of rocks, I contemplated the mistake of not having my rifle reloaded. After all, there were buffalo that I was ignoring. But they looked peaceable enough. I thought it'd be embarrassing if a boar - rare as hen's teeth in these parts - decided to show. I was lost in that little thought when across the valley and on the other side of the creek I spotted cattle moving to the water. We've been struggling to find the cows and calves lately, finding only the big bulls. My hopes raised, and I quickly reloaded and set a course to intercept them, knowing they were heading towards my lady.
As I neared, and crept through the scrub along the creek, I saw three large bulls. I thought cows and calves might be following, but they were just more buffalo.
Then the bulls cut the wind, and became guarded. The lead bull turned around and walked away, and the others followed. As I was able, I crouched and stalked my way closer. I knew that my lady was somewhere to my front, so I had to wait for the bulls to give me a safer line of fire. This they did, and paused nicely, still unsure. I had chosen the rear-most bull, due to his unusual horns, large and downturned.
I aimed as small as I could resting on the side of a tree about fifty yards away, maybe forty-five. I was aiming for the heart. When the smoke cleared, the front two were departing and the bull I shot was crashing - within seconds of being hit he was down, never to rise again. I put three more roundballs in to make damn sure, as these things scare the hell out of me.
Back home, there were some very happy people and dogs when my lady and I returned bearing the gifts of the bush.
While I was stalking the bulls, my lady took some great photos of them! I'll attach one. You can clearly see the rear-most bull with his funky horns, and although I'm not visible, I'm somewhere in the brush on the other side waiting for a safe shooting lane and a good opportunity.
The rifle is a .54" CVA Mountain Rifle. I'm proud of my homemade cast roundballs. The load was 100 grains of Alliant Black MZ.
Kind regards,
Ben