I just visited a friend's property on the MacIntyre River in northern New South Wales. He had to go into Texas to do some work, so I decided to take a last drive around as the property has been sold.It was warm and sunny, with a strong breeze to keep it comfotrable. I loaded my 7x57 Mauser carbine and put it on the back seat, but was not really expecting action during the day.As I drove down to the dam, something white caught my eye at about 500yds. As I got closer, I could see that it was a small mob of feral goats- white, black, multicolored.
My approach was partially concealed by a small copse of trees, and the cross wind. I stopped the car, and got out with the rifle at about 300yds and started walking. I have old leg and knee injuries which make walking painful, but I didn't feel a thing as I stalked towards the trees. At one stage I was convinced that a black goat was staring straight at me, and I propped until he went back to feeding. As I got under the trees, I tried to make as little noise as possible. Every time a twig cracked under my boot, I expected a stampede. My luck held, as the cross wind carried the noise away.
At last I was behind a large iron bark tree. I closed the bolt and put the rifle to my shoulder and sighted through the 6x scope. At first I fixed on the biggest billy a multicolored type I have heard called a Nubian.
My friends companion Linda had asked me to get some legs from a young goat for the table, so I moved to the youngest white billy. The range was about 100yds, and they were totally unaware of me until I triggered of the first shot. It was bang flop for the first goat, but by the time I worked the bolt the rest were in full flight to my right, and I vainly emptied my remaining 4 shots trying for the big nubianas as it raced into the scrub.
As I was reloading from my shell holder on the rifle butt, I saw another white goat try to stand up from grass about 18 inches high. It fell over again, and I assumed it must have taken one of the rounds I fired at the Nubian. I walked over to finish it off, about 125yds. It did not require a cou de grace. It had been hit behind the ribs and the bullet had exited to the rear, leaving a large exit. I was baffled. With the direction the goats were running and the direction I was shooting, a bulle entering at that point should have traveled forward through the lungs and rib cage.
The hindquarters of both goats were harvested using my new knife(a birthday present from my wonderful sister). The younger legs were roasted for dinner. In my friend Trevor's opinion, I should shoot a younger goat next time. The older went for dog tucker.
As I lay in bed later that night, the problem of the bullet that reversed track was going through my mind. I began to thing of JFKennedy and the "magic bullet", but I have always doubted that theory. So I was tossing around alternative theories and this is what I came up with - My first shot on the small white goat was a through and through. The exit was about 1 inch. I believe the other goat was standing behind him, and the bullet then passed diagonally through him. He then ran about 30yds before dropping.
Talking to Trevor about it later, He said I should have shot the big horned Nubian goat first, as it was probably the leader of the group, and once it was shot the other would be confused and easier pickings.
good Hunting - Pete
