Pig Hunting By Owen Bunn. Dictated on 7/1/95

Recounting the hunting - fascinating story -

When we arrived in the King Country as boys our hunting instincts were very minimal. Laurie, Ron and Alan had been out after deer occasionally but pigs and bush cattle were an unknown quantity. Dad had taken Ron and Alan up into the Mangatara country hunting deer and in 1931 was going to make a small fortune out of skins but after some hard yakka by the three of them it barely paid their way. However the boys talked about it for years. I think Alan was twelve and Ron fourteen so it was a pretty hard slog for boys their age, however they were both strong and game. It must be remembered that Dad had a stiff knee so that sort of adventure was doubly hard on him but he was such an exciting hunting companion and he always made it sound so exciting. His hunting stories when we were young always held us enthralled and he never begrudged us going hunting come hell or high water. Although we never really realized it I'm sure that his leg was a real handicap but he never complained. When I think of some of the hardships and tragedies he bore he must have been a very strong character indeed. Mind you Mum was of the same calibre and put up with those tragedies too and the young take it all for granted as we did.

Of course we had shot the odd rabbit or been out with someone who had. So our arrival amongst a veritable legion of pigs and a bush full of cattle plus plenty on the Heao grass country was very exciting.

Dad arrived with three dogs West, Fame and Gale. Gale as I remember did very little of anything. Old West was a good handy dog who bred some good pups and was also good at bailing a pig. Fame was a natural finder and a good close bailer of pigs and looking back now I'm sure she was never ripped by a boar. Her only hunting injury was a .303 bullet through one foot and I was the cause of that. The pig was bailed behind a toitoi and he came round to see who I was. I never hesitated and fired killing the pig and the bullet going through him and hitting Fame. From then on we cut the tip of the hard nosed .303's and I had no more trouble like that.

I found out much later from a very good pig hunter by the name of Dan King, that when a bailed pig is going to charge a particular dog he will turn his front feet in the direction of that dog ready to move fast when the time is opportune. I have no doubt in my mind now that Fame knew this, she always stood in front of the bailed pig, fairly close and to one side, and when the pig charged her she moved to the side opposite his pointing hooves. She never moved far but the pig always missed and of course she was then behind him and gave him a nip if he wasn't quick enough to turn or skedaddle.

Dan, who incidentally married, Ruby Huia, was shearing an fencing around Tokirima for many years and was first class at both jobs. He did quite a bit of shearing and fencing for me and always received a little extra, a chain or two on each fencing job, and when shearing, his count was always on the generous side of cutout. One day while we were discussing pig hunting he happened to mention this about a bailed pig turning their feet in the desired direction. It was news to me but I observed it quite often later.

I have had one or two experiences with pigs that are worth reporting. This time my brother Harry and Allan Allingham were with me when I shot quite a big boar on the Heao riverbank. He ran up into the bush and when the dogs caught up they gave a few arks and then silence. He had run at least fifty metres and was lying dead. We opened him up to see what had killed him and he was shot right through the heart. That surprised us as he took off at a great rate after being shot and a heart shot was supposed to stop them in their tracks.

Another occasion worth reporting was one day out on our second Ratas (a large flat, high up on the south end of our farm). Rex White who was giving me a hand to muster the Heao country went down into a fairy steep gully to finish off a pig the dogs had hold of. We had seen several run down there and while I was holding the horses one came running back into the open and when passing some water fern he crawled in and hid. It was the first time I had actually seen it happen. Anyway, Rex was walking back up and as he was passing within six yards of the pig I called out and told him there was a small pig hiding about eight feet on his right in the fern. He treated that statement with a snort of disdain and stomped into the little clump of fern to show me how silly it was. However although the pig was small he gave a fair sort of snort that put Rex a metre in the air proving that I did know what I was talking about.

Another similar instance with the dogs was as I rode over a small knob I saw a medium sized boar take off down a small ridge track with open country not far ahead. It was a bit of a crooked ridge and he had a lead on the dogs of about 40 metres and believe me they were in full cry. Well this crafty pig halted smartly while just out of the dog's sight for a moment and jumped into a lawyer bush. I sat on my horse and rolled a smoke while the dogs whistled past him into the open country, and then finding that their quarry had disappeared, were rather non-plussed. I quite enjoyed the ensuing conundrum for them: after scouting all around where they should have sighted him they raced back up to me. He wasn't there, and after a moment's hesitation decided he was down that ridge somewhere so away they went again full steam. They raced past the lawyer again and after another fruitless search decided somehow this pig had disappeared into thin air. On the return trip one dog with a keener sense of smell hesitated as he passed piggy's hideout (they were returning much slower this time as they had run themselves ragged looking for him). He must have caught a whiff of fresh pig scent and they were all there barking at the wily pig. It made my day, and were those dogs pleased.

One pig story occurred half a mile from Tub's house as he and I were on our way out mustering. The track we were on ran across a flat area with a crest about half way along it and the far side sloped towards some bush and continued into a saucer shaped basin and from the crest as we reached it we had an uninterrupted view of the episode about to unfold. This was also a very clever piece of thinking and communication between two animals. As we topped the crest, a sow and three half grown suckers took off for the bush at a great rate of knots and in finger four formation. Of course the dogs were in full cry -this was a real bonus for them - about fifty metres behind but determined to get one before they got to the bush.

The only explanation I can give is Mum trying to save at least one of her young. Suddenly she and the nearest youngster flattened themselves on the ground and one dog almost jumped over them with his eyes on the other two just ahead and almost within grasp. When Mum felt the time was ripe she and sucker took off downhill away from all the kafuffle. A very clever piece of a quick thinking! It just goes to show that the pig is a quick thinker and I wonder how much of this sort of thing goes on unseen by humans. Tub and I talked about this for many a day.

I always liked hunting with Tub because he preferred to sit on his horse while I got the pig. Often it was billy time so a cuppa was ready when I got back - suited me okay!

I must include a little story about Tub that I found most remarkable, almost unbelievable. Tub's version is a little different but the end result is the same. It was early 1943 when ammunition was very scarce. It was needed for shooting our enemies and bad luck for the pig-hunters who were trying to rid themselves of big old boars who were damaging their grasslands. Naturally enough there came a time when we were down to four .303 bullets and I had them in my picket. Tub had brought out the old .22 with a few bullets as there were available in small amounts. Well, the dogs had a quite useful old boar bailed just short of the Rata gate on the Ohuraiti side right in the midst of fairly dense bracken fern. We were quite close to him and on the same level before we could seem him. He was on my right and Tub says "Can you see him?"
"Yes" says I, "But I'll have to fire left-handed as there's a bit of a drop underneath me and he'll probably break if I go further". The dogs were quite safe but my shot was too high and I just clipped the top of this neck. He shook his head but otherwise stayed put. A flea bite like that wasn't going to worry him. Tub, in his impetuous way, said
"Let me at him, before you shoot my dog" and with that stepped forward boldly to get a look and take a shot. To this day I really can't believe what I actually saw. As Tub stepped forward on to what he imagined was firm edge - it was nothing of the sort and he fell headlong down amongst the bracken and within three metres of the pig, them both more or less looking each other in the eye. The result was outstanding and I maintain that Tub stood up like the proverbial weighted tin soldier. There was no struggling to arise, he just fell down and came back up as if he had two hundredweight of lead on his feet. His rifle was still in his hand and there was not further talk of "Let me at him!"

His account is slightly different but he maintains the eye to eye contact gave him superhuman strength (he didn't want to get any more chummy with that pig) and we then only had two .303 bullets left!!

Here is another story of Tub when we were much younger. I was 13 at the time and just the tyro. Tub being the big time pig hunter. We had just ridden up from the twin creeks on to the Black Hut area and the dogs bailed a pig (quite a big boar) and I was given Tub's horse to hold while he shot the pig - which he did, we thought, in good fashion. Anyway he was getting ready to stick him in the time honoured way but his knife happened to be tied in! (We were always losing knives at that stage). The pig was on his back and the big time hunter standing over him with his lower legs holding piggy quite firm. While busy undoing his knife piggy gave a big heave and took off and Tub took off also but in a slightly different direction. To me sitting safely up on a horse it was a most exhilarating burst of speed by my brother and he was a fast runner in any case. My hilarity was very much frowned upon and of course the pig was the loser, from only being stunned he was soon re-bailed by dogs and tub made sure of the next shot.

I've experienced a few close encounters with bush cattle one way and another; and there is nothing scary about this one, just a case of real surprise on both sides. I was travelling up the Mangatiti (Tomo's Creek) with Jimmy Drummond and two young lads Herbie and Derek Blank. We had just started to cross a lovely little bush flat when about 150 metres away the dogs caught a pig. I left my gun with Jimmy and took off at a great rate of knots to see if I could salvage some pork. I saw the pig about six metres away and was still running when, within two metres or so, a beautiful big Friesian coloured bull was also about two meters away and apparently wondering what all the commotion was about and was peering at all the goings on. We didn't become aware of each other until we were only two metres apart. I'll never forget the magnificence of that animal and when he looked up and saw me he must have really wondered what was going on in his domain. I'm sure my look of amazement was as good as his. With a big snort he took off which left me rather pleased although I never really had time to take fright. It all happened so quickly and unexpectedly. What a beautiful big animal he was, and in the pink of condition. I imagined him to be four or five years old. Jimmy had already accounted for a couple of bulls so we left this chap in peace and I hope he enjoyed a long life. I've often thought of that experience and have been pleased he wasn't a snarly old timer. Things may have been different and I would have needed more than a handy punga.

I still feel pig hunting is the most exciting sport and to hear your dongs 'open up' on a pig, or to hear the change in tone when the pig is bailed makes the blood race a little faster!

Typed by Lyn Neesen - Dec 2004

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