One for Andrew

9/17/2015

      As late summer and early fall arrives in the swamp the potholes and ponds are drying quickly.  The hogs are becoming more easy to pattern and find near the existing sources of water.  One Sunday afternoon recently I found a group of a dozen feeding in one of our favorite locations to shoot hogs in dry times---our Duck Pond.  Knowing they would likely return each evening for the near future, I knew exactly who I wanted to get the first crack at them.   

       During the next week my 7-year old son, Andrew, and I planned our hunt  It would be a relatively short walk from where we would park in the pines of the property, walk through a stretch of hardwoods, and into the willow bushes surrounding the pond.  There he would take aim at the group and hopefully get his first of the season.  The stage was set and all week we discussed our hunt.

      Friday arrived and as I headed home from work I called ahead and found out Andrew's friend Harrison also wanted to join us.  So the three of us headed out to the swamp in time to reach the pond about thirty minutes before dark.

       It can be difficult to sit in one spot for long as the wind swirls and alerts the hogs to human presence.  For this reason our plan was to let the hogs reach the pond first, before we stalked close. 

       As soon as we got close, I saw them.  The hogs were there in a force of at least a dozen.  We crept to within 50 yards and I steadied our .243 on the shooting sticks and handed it over to Andrew for the shot.  When I told him it was time to shoot, he reached for his chest to feel his heart that I knew was racing.

       He settled down, took aim and fired.  The hog stumbled but did not fall.  It ran in the opposite direction, into the grass and the willow bushes on the opposite side of the pond, heavily favoring its left front leg.  After a few minutes of discussing the events that just took place, our team of three charged ahead to search for blood and we quickly picked up a good trail.
        I was proud of the boys as they followed the blood with just a little help from me.  Within ten minutes they had successfully followed the trail to the downed hog.  There was much excitement in the woods that evening.  Andrew was mighty proud of his hog.  His daddy was too.