Post by dreamrider on Apr 15, 2020 16:19:10 GMT -5
Scratching the Itch……………. Written by Dream Rider
What started out as a faint flicker of movement two hundred yards away, slowly materialized into a small group of Rusa does and fawns, coming into the bush cover after having been out feeding all night. As I watched from the tree stand, more appeared and very soon the trickle turned into a flood. I couldn’t believe my eyes at what I was seeing, before I knew it, there were ninety deer heading in my direction. The noise was unbelievable, does were communicating with each other by emitting high pitched squeaks and squeals as they contentedly grazed their way closer. The fawns were scampering amongst the herd without a care in the world, alternating between “chase me” and racing madly around each other, they were having the time of their lives adding their excited squeals to the cacophony of noise.
The tree stand I was in had just recently been placed in that spot in the hope of intercepting the Rusa herds as they made their way to the cool timber lined river bank, where they bedded down during the heat of the day. As it was the start of the rut, it was hoped some of the bucks would be with them. Watching the herd moving closer I spotted a bruiser of a buck paying a lot of attention to one of the does at the back of the slow moving herd. He was nearly twice the size of the does with a dark, mud covered coat, and had obviously spent some time in his wallow earlier. He was huge with long heavy antlers stained black from constant rubbing against the bark of certain indigenous trees which were growing in abundance along the river bank. If he came in closer he had my name written all over him. Alas it was not to be. While I sat there thoroughly enthralled, it dawned on me they were preparing to bed down for the day seventy yards away. Oh no! “Come closer dammit” I groaned to myself, the buck and the lady of his choice headed a little closer, and then bedded down in a choice piece of shade forty five yards away. Tantalizingly close but a little too far away for these old eyes, “be patient” I told myself, he is not going to sit around forever. The age old urge will get the better of him soon enough, and I would be ready for him if he came closer.
Now it must be mentioned, when I am hunting a specific species I become single minded and have always refused to become side tracked into taking opportunistic shots at other game. In my experience it usually turns to disaster, and on this occasion it did. Two hours earlier a Dingo had come trotting past the tree stand, these are the number one killers of deer and calves in Australia, and the station manager had asked me not to hesitate to kill them if any came near. I would be doing him and the cattle station an enormous favor if I did. Without hesitation the bow was up and the arrow on its way. With a yelp the Dingo switched on his after burners but was too late to avoid his demise. Now two hours later, as fate would have it a few of the herd cut across the old blood trail of the Dingo. A couple of panic squeaks had the whole herd on their feet, and after a few moments of uncertain milling around, they suddenly panicked out of there, leaving me cursing my stupidity for breaking my long standing rule . Because of that Dingo I missed a great opportunity of possibly claiming a wonderful Rusa buck.
I was hunting on a huge privately owned cattle station in Queensland Australia. This was the second time I had hunted here, as last year my friend Kevin Watson and I had booked a Chital hunt with the well-known Australian outfitter and guide Brad Smith. Although we did not claim a Chital Buck then, I had seen enough to want to return. So here I was on my fourth attempt to claim one of those most picturesque of all deer. From the first time I had laid eyes on them six years ago, I had developed an incurable itch to claim one. However it seemed the more I tried to scratch that itch, the more elusive they became. While hunting the chital here last year I was also excited to see a large herd of Rusa deer in the same area. After obtaining permission to hunt them on this trip, I was like a dog with two tails. We have Rusa in New Zealand but for one reason or another, I had never hunted them. This particular herd had some monsters in it so I decided to divide my time hunting both.
Both deer species frequented the same areas, although the Rusa seem to prefer the open grasslands making the job of getting in close extremely difficult. The pre rut bucks would bed down, way out in the open pasture handy to a wallow, and as the terrain was flat as a pancake stalking in was close to impossible. Chital bucks preferring the cover of the Aussie bush, were also difficult to hunt as the long grass made spotting them difficult, plus the very dry nature of the bush made stalking quietly, incredibly difficult .Brads tactics were to cover the ground as far and wide as possible. Whenever something was spotted, we would go into stalk mode often getting in close, but for one reason or another for four days nothing was claimed.
There was also one other hunter in camp. Clark from Melbourne Australia, he had claimed a Rusa last year and was back to try for something bigger this time. Brad divided his time equally between us, and whenever Brad and Clark were off hunting together, I would head for a tree stand to try my luck, and to give my protesting body a much needed rest.
It was early on the fourth day and I was sitting in a newly erected tree stand, situated in a belt of timber boarded by open pasture on both sides. “The Chital use this as a bedding area plus access to and from the open grazing” Brad told me. The tree stand had been positioned between two fresh scrapes, and judging from the amount of activity in that area they were in constant use. My hopes were high of claiming one of these incredibly elusive deer, and I had only been there an hour when I heard a Chital buck roar a few hundred yards away. Chital have an unusual roar sounding like the soft braying of a donkey, usually emitting two to four roars then the same again twenty minutes later, you could almost set your clock by them. Twenty minutes had passed and I thought to myself I should be hearing him again any minute now, when he sounded off again only fifty yard behind the stand. Slowly turning around I saw him making his way towards me. He was a beauty with six long points, the early morning sun highlighting his reddish brown body and vivid white spots. My heart went into instant overdrive while I prepared for a shot. But it wasn’t to be, he just kept walking and passed me at 35yards, oh how I was tempted to take a shot, but I knew my limitations and held off.
Early the next morning found me in the same stand; Brad had just driven off after dropping me at the tree stand, when I noticed a movement to my right. There he was again, this time heading for one of his scrapes. He immediately set about the pad arranging it into some semblance of order, when satisfied he suddenly launched himself up on his back legs, and with his thick rut swollen neck fully extended, started rubbing the overhead branches with his cheek glands.
While he was fully occupied I drew back the bow and waited until he came down on all fours. Seconds later at thirty three yards, the 125grn Slick Trick Viper, zipped through his chest like a hot knife through butter and buried itself deep into the soil. A little far back I thought to myself but looked good. The buck lurched a few meters behind some heavy foliage and stood perfectly still, trying to figure out what had just happened. Shortly after he lay down and I was feeling elated. I decided to give him some time, and while I waited, two spikers came trotting in, which immediately caused the buck to stagger to his feet and lurch off a short way then disappeared out of sight behind some thick brush. I called in Brad, and after a quick meeting we decided to back off for a couple of hours.
On our return, “Liver shot” Brad said, upon seeing my blood covered arrow buried in the ground, “He won’t be far away”. After tracking him for forty yards we spotted him in the long grass, a quick follow up arrow and this magnificent buck was mine. Words could never do justice to the emotions I was feeling. I knelt alongside him, and through my tears thanked him for being one of the most beautiful and challenging of all the creatures that I had hunted in my long hunting life.
After four hunts spanning six years, I had finally claimed my Chital buck, what had become an incurable itch was now well and truly scratched.
As luck would have it, Clark claimed a very impressive Rusa buck almost to the hour that I claimed my Chital. He had spotted the buck in his wallow way out in the open pasture; he managed to get in close by using a drainage ditch which went right up to the wallow. Keeping low he proceeded to get to within twenty yards, and put in a telling shot that had the big boy down quickly. Drinks all-round that night, but poor Brad was up until midnight capping out the two trophies.
The sixth and final day arrived and I decided it was Rusa that I wanted to hunt. Brad had seen a huge lone buck along the river bank, two or three miles away. We decided to see if we could locate him, and if luck was on my side maybe get an arrow into him. We had been walking for some time when Brad whispered “he should be around here somewhere, let’s stalk along this slight dip in the terrain, but we are going to have to be on top of our game, because he didn’t get to the size he has by being dumb”. The plan almost worked, but unfortunately he was still bedded down and well hidden in a patch of tight bush. The first indication of his presence was when he came busting out at only forty five yards. Man he was huge; he frantically looked around to try to identify what had caused the noise in the long grass. He quickly spotted us, and tensed to run but hung around just long enough for Brad to film a few feet of footage of him before he was out of there. We didn’t have a chance, and he had caught us with our pants well and truly down. When we reviewed the footage later that evening, we all sat and drooled, he was huge and by far the biggest Rusa we had seen, and believe me we had seen some beauties over the past six days. It was getting late so we headed out, only to bump into four big bucks asleep in their wallow, what a sight they made.
It was the end of a great hunt with a great guide. Brad is second to none, and I would recommend him unreservedly. Although I achieved what I had set out to do, which was to claim a Chital buck, strangely enough that itch is still there. That huge Rusa buck has wriggled under my skin and set up an itch that must be scratched, hopefully next year or maybe the next………..Oh man this hunting is a disease.
Ray Scott.
What started out as a faint flicker of movement two hundred yards away, slowly materialized into a small group of Rusa does and fawns, coming into the bush cover after having been out feeding all night. As I watched from the tree stand, more appeared and very soon the trickle turned into a flood. I couldn’t believe my eyes at what I was seeing, before I knew it, there were ninety deer heading in my direction. The noise was unbelievable, does were communicating with each other by emitting high pitched squeaks and squeals as they contentedly grazed their way closer. The fawns were scampering amongst the herd without a care in the world, alternating between “chase me” and racing madly around each other, they were having the time of their lives adding their excited squeals to the cacophony of noise.
The tree stand I was in had just recently been placed in that spot in the hope of intercepting the Rusa herds as they made their way to the cool timber lined river bank, where they bedded down during the heat of the day. As it was the start of the rut, it was hoped some of the bucks would be with them. Watching the herd moving closer I spotted a bruiser of a buck paying a lot of attention to one of the does at the back of the slow moving herd. He was nearly twice the size of the does with a dark, mud covered coat, and had obviously spent some time in his wallow earlier. He was huge with long heavy antlers stained black from constant rubbing against the bark of certain indigenous trees which were growing in abundance along the river bank. If he came in closer he had my name written all over him. Alas it was not to be. While I sat there thoroughly enthralled, it dawned on me they were preparing to bed down for the day seventy yards away. Oh no! “Come closer dammit” I groaned to myself, the buck and the lady of his choice headed a little closer, and then bedded down in a choice piece of shade forty five yards away. Tantalizingly close but a little too far away for these old eyes, “be patient” I told myself, he is not going to sit around forever. The age old urge will get the better of him soon enough, and I would be ready for him if he came closer.
Now it must be mentioned, when I am hunting a specific species I become single minded and have always refused to become side tracked into taking opportunistic shots at other game. In my experience it usually turns to disaster, and on this occasion it did. Two hours earlier a Dingo had come trotting past the tree stand, these are the number one killers of deer and calves in Australia, and the station manager had asked me not to hesitate to kill them if any came near. I would be doing him and the cattle station an enormous favor if I did. Without hesitation the bow was up and the arrow on its way. With a yelp the Dingo switched on his after burners but was too late to avoid his demise. Now two hours later, as fate would have it a few of the herd cut across the old blood trail of the Dingo. A couple of panic squeaks had the whole herd on their feet, and after a few moments of uncertain milling around, they suddenly panicked out of there, leaving me cursing my stupidity for breaking my long standing rule . Because of that Dingo I missed a great opportunity of possibly claiming a wonderful Rusa buck.
I was hunting on a huge privately owned cattle station in Queensland Australia. This was the second time I had hunted here, as last year my friend Kevin Watson and I had booked a Chital hunt with the well-known Australian outfitter and guide Brad Smith. Although we did not claim a Chital Buck then, I had seen enough to want to return. So here I was on my fourth attempt to claim one of those most picturesque of all deer. From the first time I had laid eyes on them six years ago, I had developed an incurable itch to claim one. However it seemed the more I tried to scratch that itch, the more elusive they became. While hunting the chital here last year I was also excited to see a large herd of Rusa deer in the same area. After obtaining permission to hunt them on this trip, I was like a dog with two tails. We have Rusa in New Zealand but for one reason or another, I had never hunted them. This particular herd had some monsters in it so I decided to divide my time hunting both.
Both deer species frequented the same areas, although the Rusa seem to prefer the open grasslands making the job of getting in close extremely difficult. The pre rut bucks would bed down, way out in the open pasture handy to a wallow, and as the terrain was flat as a pancake stalking in was close to impossible. Chital bucks preferring the cover of the Aussie bush, were also difficult to hunt as the long grass made spotting them difficult, plus the very dry nature of the bush made stalking quietly, incredibly difficult .Brads tactics were to cover the ground as far and wide as possible. Whenever something was spotted, we would go into stalk mode often getting in close, but for one reason or another for four days nothing was claimed.
There was also one other hunter in camp. Clark from Melbourne Australia, he had claimed a Rusa last year and was back to try for something bigger this time. Brad divided his time equally between us, and whenever Brad and Clark were off hunting together, I would head for a tree stand to try my luck, and to give my protesting body a much needed rest.
It was early on the fourth day and I was sitting in a newly erected tree stand, situated in a belt of timber boarded by open pasture on both sides. “The Chital use this as a bedding area plus access to and from the open grazing” Brad told me. The tree stand had been positioned between two fresh scrapes, and judging from the amount of activity in that area they were in constant use. My hopes were high of claiming one of these incredibly elusive deer, and I had only been there an hour when I heard a Chital buck roar a few hundred yards away. Chital have an unusual roar sounding like the soft braying of a donkey, usually emitting two to four roars then the same again twenty minutes later, you could almost set your clock by them. Twenty minutes had passed and I thought to myself I should be hearing him again any minute now, when he sounded off again only fifty yard behind the stand. Slowly turning around I saw him making his way towards me. He was a beauty with six long points, the early morning sun highlighting his reddish brown body and vivid white spots. My heart went into instant overdrive while I prepared for a shot. But it wasn’t to be, he just kept walking and passed me at 35yards, oh how I was tempted to take a shot, but I knew my limitations and held off.
Early the next morning found me in the same stand; Brad had just driven off after dropping me at the tree stand, when I noticed a movement to my right. There he was again, this time heading for one of his scrapes. He immediately set about the pad arranging it into some semblance of order, when satisfied he suddenly launched himself up on his back legs, and with his thick rut swollen neck fully extended, started rubbing the overhead branches with his cheek glands.
While he was fully occupied I drew back the bow and waited until he came down on all fours. Seconds later at thirty three yards, the 125grn Slick Trick Viper, zipped through his chest like a hot knife through butter and buried itself deep into the soil. A little far back I thought to myself but looked good. The buck lurched a few meters behind some heavy foliage and stood perfectly still, trying to figure out what had just happened. Shortly after he lay down and I was feeling elated. I decided to give him some time, and while I waited, two spikers came trotting in, which immediately caused the buck to stagger to his feet and lurch off a short way then disappeared out of sight behind some thick brush. I called in Brad, and after a quick meeting we decided to back off for a couple of hours.
On our return, “Liver shot” Brad said, upon seeing my blood covered arrow buried in the ground, “He won’t be far away”. After tracking him for forty yards we spotted him in the long grass, a quick follow up arrow and this magnificent buck was mine. Words could never do justice to the emotions I was feeling. I knelt alongside him, and through my tears thanked him for being one of the most beautiful and challenging of all the creatures that I had hunted in my long hunting life.
After four hunts spanning six years, I had finally claimed my Chital buck, what had become an incurable itch was now well and truly scratched.
As luck would have it, Clark claimed a very impressive Rusa buck almost to the hour that I claimed my Chital. He had spotted the buck in his wallow way out in the open pasture; he managed to get in close by using a drainage ditch which went right up to the wallow. Keeping low he proceeded to get to within twenty yards, and put in a telling shot that had the big boy down quickly. Drinks all-round that night, but poor Brad was up until midnight capping out the two trophies.
The sixth and final day arrived and I decided it was Rusa that I wanted to hunt. Brad had seen a huge lone buck along the river bank, two or three miles away. We decided to see if we could locate him, and if luck was on my side maybe get an arrow into him. We had been walking for some time when Brad whispered “he should be around here somewhere, let’s stalk along this slight dip in the terrain, but we are going to have to be on top of our game, because he didn’t get to the size he has by being dumb”. The plan almost worked, but unfortunately he was still bedded down and well hidden in a patch of tight bush. The first indication of his presence was when he came busting out at only forty five yards. Man he was huge; he frantically looked around to try to identify what had caused the noise in the long grass. He quickly spotted us, and tensed to run but hung around just long enough for Brad to film a few feet of footage of him before he was out of there. We didn’t have a chance, and he had caught us with our pants well and truly down. When we reviewed the footage later that evening, we all sat and drooled, he was huge and by far the biggest Rusa we had seen, and believe me we had seen some beauties over the past six days. It was getting late so we headed out, only to bump into four big bucks asleep in their wallow, what a sight they made.
It was the end of a great hunt with a great guide. Brad is second to none, and I would recommend him unreservedly. Although I achieved what I had set out to do, which was to claim a Chital buck, strangely enough that itch is still there. That huge Rusa buck has wriggled under my skin and set up an itch that must be scratched, hopefully next year or maybe the next………..Oh man this hunting is a disease.
Ray Scott.
