I've spoken on previous threads about the very satisfying hunts that myself and friends have made on a colleague's property about 100kms north of my home town.
This time I took PJ, a mate from Sydney who was on the fateful rained out trip to Willow Tree up north I went on about 2 years back.
I have to say that things were not looking all that positive.
For 2 weekends before there had been sleet and then snow warnings last weekend and the high winds and intermittent rain here in town over the past couple of days also spelt disaster.
Nonetheless, PJ drove up last night, had a late dinner with us and we went to bed early so we'd be bright fresh when we arose at 4:45am ready to head out and beat the dawn.
At least, that was the theory.
In reality I had virtually no ammo for any of my rifles and so was up until about 2am reloading 50 rounds of Hornet ammo, 30 for the 303/25 and on impulse 10 for the 9.3x62.
The 3 or so hours of sleep were over in no time.
We got all our gear together, loaded it into PJ's '98 Land Rover Discovery and to use a turn of phrase "headed for the hills".
When we arrived at about 7:30am my colleague was still in his pajamas and didn't bother to come outside.
All he said was "You're brave" and told us that the main road to the back of the property was virtually impassable.
It's a clay cutting and the rain had made the journey down challenging and the journey up impossible.
So following his directions we made our way to the alternative entrance to his land.
Here's one of the first looks at his land we got before arriving at the gate:
As you can see the edges of the cloud were hanging on the hills and the ground was very damp.
My colleagues back gate.....yes, that does say No Unauthorised Shooters.
Thankfully it didn't include us.
I have to say things didn't start promising either.
We got our rifles out, my Martini Hornet and PJ's Wby Vanguard Deluxe .243, and then found a place overlooking the creek near a lot of blackberry patches.
It was about 4°C and the wind dropped the real temp lower and despite efforts with the scotch predator caller and a button whistle no foxes even showed a whisker.
As for rabbits, there were none to be found.
I was thoroughly cold now so we got back into the Disco and headed for the back end of the property.
This took a considerable time between the damp track and resultant poor traction in places and just the distance involved.
When we finally got there all the usual spots were almost deviod of bunnies, something which had me stumped.
There were a few about but they were VERY skittish and ran hard.
So we strolled through the small meadows and then PJ lazily said "They're a funny shape.....what are they?"
I looked hard and exclaimed "They're goats!"
First thing first we glassed them to make sure they weren't someones domestic goats but they had no tags on their ears.
I quietly cursed that the Hornet was all I had and Peter said "Don't stress, use my .243."
I didn't need a second invitation.
I began to line up a nice billy.....and then the wind changed.
As soon as they picked up our scent they methodically but deliberately headed for the steep sides of the gully.
I bolted toward them and then stood in the dry creek bed that gave a clear view of their retreat.
At least 5 were still very visible so I placed the reticle on the rear end of a white goat and squeezed.
It was not immediately clear that I had whacked it but PJ was sure and the goat did it odd thing - it stepped to the side and paused halfway up among the bracken while the rest climbed out of view.
That had us thinking so we moved as quickly as we could along the creek bed toward their escape route.
We were about half way to game trail leading up the hill when there was a crash and the billy I had shot tumbled off the steep side of the gully, landed in the stream bed and lay still.
When PJ and I got to it it was a healthy animal with small horns but a well fed tummy and the 85gr Hornady SP had entered into it's ribcage quartering in to rip through the lungs.
Here I am with it:
And here's PJ with the goat:
Ever hopeful of luring foxes in we decided the dead billy would be perfect fox an pig bait so we dragged it into the open and opened up it's gut in the hope that some silly red coat would find the smell irrisitable.
I also knocked over this little bunny at about 100yds with the Hornet.
It was left as bait in another spot.
Having scared off all the skittish game with 2 shots we were then hungry so we returned to the Disco ready for lunch.
I'd cooked a rich lamb casserole on Thursday night especially for the trip so PJ heated it up on the gas stove and we dined in style.
Here's PJ cooking on the back of Disco.
After lunch we decided it would be good to see if we could get the Tikka T3 Lite Stainless 9.3x62, better known as "The Judge" on target after last weeks abortive attempts.
After 5 shots that are a story in themselves it was on target and we headed in the opposite direction up the creek.
Parking the Disco about 200yds from the trail head that leads back to the ridge, PJ and I slung on our rifles, the .243 and "The Judge" respectively, and headed up the gully in search of more game.
By then it was quite mild and around 10°C.
The fine mizzle that had fallen intermittently for much of the morning was also gone and the breeze was in out faces, a much more reassuring proposition.
There was a lot of pig sign about in the forms of diggings and scratchings and PJ said the entire place was like one big toilet.
He was right - there was droppings everywhere from sheep, roos, rabbits, goats and even pigs.
Clearly you could really nail game if you got your timing right.
We took our time and began to round a corner when PJ spotted a large wallaby cleaning itself and enjoying the afternoon sunshine.
We decided not to spook it by trudging up noisily and had only taken about 10 steps when PJ cried "Stop! Look!" and pointed to the right.
Three goats, a black one and 2 white ones were grazing at the bottom of the slope.
PJ nominated the black billy and I was undecided when I glanced across and saw 2 more higher up.....and than another 2!
There was a whole mob among the trees on the steep sides of the gully.
PJ was down on his chest resting on a log and I picked a grey goat halfway up the hill.
The black billy went down as soon as PJ fired and I shot soon afterward but 2 things happened at that moment.
My goat moved and the rifle, shoving back under recoil, slammed the scope into my forehead!
You guessed it - the old "Weatherby Smile"...... :oops:
I suspect The Judge was handing down a contempt of court sentence for bad shooting technique.
But I was buggered if I was going to let blood running down my face ruin a chance at another goat so when a white billy with black markings began to trot across the face of the hill both PJ and I prepared to take it down.
Unfortunately his rifle discharged before he could aim properly and he didn't knock it over.
Then, in further frustration, just as I was ready to shoot the rotten thing skylined and we had to chase it around the hill until it paused next to a shrub about 40yds away where the hill was again behind it.
I didn't waste my time and the Judge delivered its 270gr sentence.
The billy groaned, staggered a few steps and then tumbled down the steepest section of hillside on the gully, sliding to a halt half way down.
The 270gr Speer had entered and exited just on the bottom of the spine, broken it's spine and death was practically instantaneous.
So I clambered down the 50° slope which was slippery with moss and damp soil to the goat.
To my surprise it had a significant set of horns on it, probably approaching 40", and I thought they probably deserved to go on my wall, although I wasn't going cape it out.
Mainly because it was too much trouble and we didn't have appropriate knives, but also because I have no idea how!
PJ went and got the camera from the Disco (which was mercifully close) took the above pic.
However he then fell in patch of brambles, the legacy of which troubled him for the rest of the day.
Then he climbed around the top and both of us struggled to cut the head off the goat.
In the finish it was clear we would not succeed halfway down the ravine so we gave it a good shove and hoped it would slide down and through a gap in the logs to the gully floor.
No such luck....the billy's significant behind caught up and I had to climb up and pull it's legs down while PJ pulled from underneath - at which point the billy fell on PJ, knocked him onto his rear and he put his hand into some brambles!
On even ground the job was much simpler and I soon got the head off with proper cutting and twisting.
Here I am with it complete with my "war wound"!
We walked up the gully after leaving the head with the Disco and cleaning ourselves up.
Unfortunately the only goats were PJ's black billy shown here below.
We whistled for foxes and looked for pigs but despite all the signs there was nothing but roos and they were off limits.
So we headed back to the Disco.
I tried to cut the skull cap off the head but didn't have the right tools so we tied it securely to a tree near an ants nest and hopefully the ants will take care of much of it so I can come out and collect a clean skull next time.
We then hooked up the spotlight and bagged a few rabbits with the Hornet and PJ's single bbl Bentley 12g shotgun.
However our dead goat and rabbit from that morning were untouched, something I've never seen before, and the only fox we saw on the way out was leaving quite quickly.
Either someone has been hammering the local fox population or they've been baited.
Suffice to say, the huge number I saw last time I was there are long gone.
So we packed up and headed back to my house where PJ slept for the night rather than driving another 2hrs back to Sydney.
Despite the fact every muscle on my aches and I have a sizable cut on my forehead it was one of the most brilliant hunts I've ever had.
And it'll be fascinating to measure those horns when I head out there and get them next time.
Here's us leaving the property hurting but happy.
The tally - 3 goats and 5 rabbits.
Gotta love hunting!
