macka
25-03-07, 05:34 PM
Posting the story from my girlfriends place, will post the photos tomorrow night when i get home...
As I slowly stalked along a fence line that cut through some dense mallee scrub I scanned the ground for prints and the scrub for any signs of the game. It was not long before I came across some sets of prints. The prints were huge and rounded which made me believe that they belonged to a couple of big old billies, which is exactly what I was stalking for in the scrub. The prints were very fresh and after following them along the fence line for a while they detoured off into the scrub.
As it was around 1pm I suspected the goats would be bedded down somewhere thick. So with a 125gn outback supreme tipped arrow nocked, I carefully pushed my way through the scrub in pursuit of the hoof prints owners. The limestone boulders littered the timbered floor almost as if anchoring the mallee tree's to the ground. The scrub started to thin and soon opened out into some cleared open country scattered with strands of regrowth. The tracks followed a kangaroo pad straight into a large patch of regrowth, and with a quick look through my range finder there was a suspicious black like object that just did not fit in amongst the deep green foliage and the white limestone ground.
I sat down and retrieved my bino's for a closer look to find it was a big old black billy with a set of horns exceeding 30 inches. He was sprawled out between a couple of big rocks having an afternoon rest. The wind was in the wrong direction so I back tracked and approached them from a different angle. I could feel the temp climb and the sweat run down my cheek, the adrenaline pumping through my body within each step I took closing in on my quarry. There he was and my attention was soon drawn away from him as I spied the head gear that was on his mate.
I slowly knelt down and crack!! A stick had snapped under my knee. The goats scurried to their feet. They were looking my way as I shakily lifted my range finder to get a range on him. It came back at 30m and the only shooting lane I could get was about 4 inches wide for a clear front on shot. As I took up the tension of the string on my release aide the cams moved and the bow smoothly came back to full draw. I placed my pin in the centre of the big billies chest and sent it on its way. The arrow picked out the lane perfectly and with a thud the arrow vanished into the billy, he jogged out of the scrub where I sent another at 40m to hit him through the middle. It did not matter, the first arrow was all it took and the old billies days were over. Finally coming to rest in the great Australian bush where he had been born. His teeth were nearly no existent and his frail frame was withered with hardly any muscle bulk at all. Every 36 inches of horn on him had stood up to the punishment over those harsh years better than his poor old body. Truly a worthy trophy!
Macka
Here are the pics.
http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b255/Mackadebowhunter/P1010425.jpg
http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b255/Mackadebowhunter/P1010426.jpg
As I slowly stalked along a fence line that cut through some dense mallee scrub I scanned the ground for prints and the scrub for any signs of the game. It was not long before I came across some sets of prints. The prints were huge and rounded which made me believe that they belonged to a couple of big old billies, which is exactly what I was stalking for in the scrub. The prints were very fresh and after following them along the fence line for a while they detoured off into the scrub.
As it was around 1pm I suspected the goats would be bedded down somewhere thick. So with a 125gn outback supreme tipped arrow nocked, I carefully pushed my way through the scrub in pursuit of the hoof prints owners. The limestone boulders littered the timbered floor almost as if anchoring the mallee tree's to the ground. The scrub started to thin and soon opened out into some cleared open country scattered with strands of regrowth. The tracks followed a kangaroo pad straight into a large patch of regrowth, and with a quick look through my range finder there was a suspicious black like object that just did not fit in amongst the deep green foliage and the white limestone ground.
I sat down and retrieved my bino's for a closer look to find it was a big old black billy with a set of horns exceeding 30 inches. He was sprawled out between a couple of big rocks having an afternoon rest. The wind was in the wrong direction so I back tracked and approached them from a different angle. I could feel the temp climb and the sweat run down my cheek, the adrenaline pumping through my body within each step I took closing in on my quarry. There he was and my attention was soon drawn away from him as I spied the head gear that was on his mate.
I slowly knelt down and crack!! A stick had snapped under my knee. The goats scurried to their feet. They were looking my way as I shakily lifted my range finder to get a range on him. It came back at 30m and the only shooting lane I could get was about 4 inches wide for a clear front on shot. As I took up the tension of the string on my release aide the cams moved and the bow smoothly came back to full draw. I placed my pin in the centre of the big billies chest and sent it on its way. The arrow picked out the lane perfectly and with a thud the arrow vanished into the billy, he jogged out of the scrub where I sent another at 40m to hit him through the middle. It did not matter, the first arrow was all it took and the old billies days were over. Finally coming to rest in the great Australian bush where he had been born. His teeth were nearly no existent and his frail frame was withered with hardly any muscle bulk at all. Every 36 inches of horn on him had stood up to the punishment over those harsh years better than his poor old body. Truly a worthy trophy!
Macka
Here are the pics.
http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b255/Mackadebowhunter/P1010425.jpg
http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b255/Mackadebowhunter/P1010426.jpg