Hog Hunt At Sweetwater Creek Ranch
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Second Hunt

At 8:21 the back of another black hog caught my eye as it walked though the broom weeds toward the same H-Post corner.

I signaled Rick that a hog was coming and he moved up to the fence and stood by the only large tree in our clump of trees. The hog ducked through a large hole in the H-Post and walked into the field ... a big boar. I got him in focus and took his picture. (At the time I didn't notice the deer on the other side of the fence watching the hog.)

The first group of hogs had meandered along but this big hog didn't waste any time getting into Rick's shooting lane. 

Rick's arrow popped through the moving hog and bounced into the air, deflected by a rock, but this time deflected after the damage was done. The boar switched ends and Rick saw blood on its side as it ran back to the fence, shoved his way under the bottom strand and disappeared in the broom weeds. 

My watch read 8:26 -- not much daylight left, 45 minutes at best. We decided to wait a few minutes and go for the hog. Rick recovered his arrow and came back. Blood was on his arrow and on the ground.

Rick had mentally marked where the hog had gone under the fence and we walked over there. "The hog came under right there," Rick said.  The broom weed was knee high by the fence and Rick and I walked through it toward the place the hog had crossed.

Ten yards away, the hog stood up. And ran.

And stopped in 50 yards.

Rick followed and when the hog turned broadside Rick sent another arrow through it. 

The hog ran another 60 yards and stopped. The boar looked whipped, like he wasn't going to run away anymore. Just the situation where his last bit of fight could come our way. 

Rick stalked closer, keeping to the rear of the hog so he wouldn't be seen. I stayed behind and took a few pictures.

Rick checked the hog with his randefinder, 31 yards. He wanted to be a few yards closer and took a few steps. When Rick began his draw I clicked another picture. At that moment the hog turned and saw us. And ran again. Leaving Rick still pulling his bow back.

All it took was a few bounds and the hog disappeared into fanny high (on us) broom weeds. Rick ran to two trees, the last place he had seen the hog.

We both searched the broom weeds, hoping to see or jump the hog again. The broom weeds and other growth were so thick we could not see past where we were walking. At dark we had to give up looking for today. We would return in the morning. 

CONTINUED...

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