NZDA H&W 198 WEB

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Now Ben had been lugging around these things called “shooting sticks” all morning and I wasn’t sure how to use them, but he quickly spread them apart so they formed a base that split off to form an X in front and an X behind. I placed the stock and forearm over the front X and the butt of the stock over the back X, which made a very stable platform, though it took about 20 seconds to set it up. (I’m guessing once you’ve had a bit of practice you’d do it in a few seconds.) Anyway, I found the stag, and he was just standing there waiting for me to stop mucking around, line up on the neck and squeeze the trigger … the suppressed Ruger .270 hit the mark and the stag disappeared into the field of wheat or whatever it was. Well that’s sweet – I’d just shot my first roe deer and was pretty stoked; now to find it. We wandered round into the paddock, where I figured it was going to be a matter of walking backwards and forwards doing a grid search, but Ben pulled out his thermal vision monocular, scanned about and said,”It’s right there,” pointing to a spot about 30 m away. We walked over and yep: there it was. Thermal vision: mmmmm, I see the benefits. “Thermal vision: mmmmm, I see the benefits.” So we dragged the stag to the edge of the field, not that we really needed to drag it because roe deer are very small and this one was barely the size of a large golden retriever. I was pretty happy: it was a nice little stag, with good though unusual antler configuration. We took a few photos and then Ben got out his knife out The roe deer hind, a beautiful sight grazing among wild flowers in a classic English meadow “We later cooked a whole back leg as a roast. It was very good …” and cleaned it all up for me. This was my kind of hunting! Back at Ed’s place I hung the deer in his garage, then searched the house firstly for a knife, then for a sharp one, then a steel, but I couldn’t find anything to butcher the animal – all I had was my Swiss Army knife and so that’s what I ended up using. Just goes to show, make sure your knife’s sharp and like the Boy Scout motto, “be prepared”. I took out the eye fillets and cooked them up that evening as a little (very little) starter; they were excellent, similar in taste to perhaps a young fallow deer. (A couple of days later, back at the in-laws’ place, we had the backsteaks, then we later cooked a whole back leg as a roast. It was very good eating.) Later that evening Ben picked me up and we headed back up to have another look for the big stag, but although we saw him he didn’t give us an opportunity for a shot. We saw several other deer but decided not to shoot any of them. As much as I would have liked to get the head mounted, financially I could not afford it so Ben took it to clean up and give it to a contact of his who will process it and hopefully I’ll be able to get it sent to me here in NZ. Overall I had a great hunt and Ben had been an excellent guide, with his knowledge of the area and the animals and making his time available – so I look forward to being able to take him out and repay him when he comes over here. You never know, I might just have a new thermal monocular in my pocket when I take him out. As Homer Simpson might say, “Mmmmmm … Thermal!” Stolen sambar trophy Have you seen this distinctive sambar trophy, which has been stolen from Plimmerton, near Wellington? Easily identified by the distinctive throwback tine, it is believed that this trophy may now be in the possession of someone who does not know that it has been stolen. Anyone with any information, please contact John Riley: jofre@paradise.net.nz, or the National Office of NZDA, PO Box 12015, Thorndon, Wellington 6144. 30 NZ Hunting & Wildlife 198 - Spring 2017
Jack and Alfie’s first tahr hunt by Alfie Buttle (9), North Canterbury branch Hunting Jack and Alfie with the tahr Dad shot Dad woke us up early in the morning. at around 6 am. We ate breakfast slowly because we were still half asleep, while Dad loaded up the truck with all our gear. After my twin brother Jack and I said goodbye to Mum we hopped into the truck. Before we knew it we were off on a four-hour journey to Mt Cook for our first tahr hunt with Dad. We drove up the track to find a place to park that would be our campsite for the night. We hopped out the truck, laced up our boots and put on our gaiters. As Dad was adjusting all of our pack straps Jack and I were trying to catch grasshoppers. We saw brown and green ones. Then Dad called us over to start walking up the track. Soon we came to a wide river running down from the mountain. It was fun for Jack and me because Dad gave us a piggyback across the river so that we wouldn’t get wet feet. As we got further up the valley we stopped for a moment to get our binoculars out and have a look on the mountain slopes and patches of scree. While we were looking Dad could see some other people walking towards us. When they reached us we said hello and had a little chat, they said they hadn’t seen anything but after they had gone Dad said we would still go and have a look. We walked up the valley a little more. The climbing was starting to get very steep. When I was climbing I saw a red and orange grasshopper. We climbed through tussock and a patch of rocks, then up the side of a gut, pulling ourselves up with some tussock and holding onto rocks. Every now and then Dad looked up with his binoculars at some bluffs above to see if there were any animals lurking. About halfway up Dad said to sit below a bush in the shade. Jack put his hand on a funny-looking plant. Ouch, it was so prickly! Dad told Jack it was speargrass. Jack will probably never do that again. After having a good drink we set off again. It was starting to get very, very steep. Every now and then we looked down to see how high we had climbed. Then it started to get really rocky. After we got past all the nearlynever-ending boulders we came to some tussock. After 2 minutes I asked Dad, “Where is our next aim to get to?” Dad answered, “I think we’ll aim to get to that big brown bush,” so we made our way towards it. Jack was leading us, sidling along roughly in a straight line. As we passed the big brown bush we could feel more wind because we were closer to the ridgeline. As we got to the ridgeline we found some tahr poo. Slowly we crept over the ridgeline to have a look down the other side, being careful not to scare any animals. We sat down to have a drink and some crackers. Dad said he had seen some tahr so we moved over behind a bush where the tahr couldn’t see us. While Jack and I were having a good little snack stop Dad tried to find the tahr in his binoculars. He helped Jack and me watch four tahr feeding high above us. We were so excited to see our first tahr. Finally Dad said he would have a crack at one and fired a shot. BANG!!! The tahr took off and ran (by Dad’s guess) 10 metres, then dropped and tumbled down a long way, smashing its way through the hebes, tussock and speargrass. Dad turned around and said with a massive smile on his face, “I’ve shot one!” Jack and I jumped for joy. Then we began our climb to where the tahr fell. When we reached the tahr Dad said we needed to move it onto a flatter ledge. He pushed the tahr over from the small ledge it was balanced on and it fell flat with a bit of a bounce. Jack and I had a close look at the tahr before Dad took the backsteaks and the back legs off. We persuaded him to take the head too, because it was our first tahr hunt together. Jack and I carried one backsteak each and Dad carried the legs and head. Slowly we zig-zagged our way back down through the steep tussock, heading back to camp. On the way we had to slide down the scree, which Jack and I thought was incredibly fun. It took us over an hour to get back to camp. When we were coming down Jack and I found some pink and red stones, and collected a couple to take home. When we got back to camp it was starting to get dark. Dad got the cooker going and we sat down to have some Uncle Ben’s rice with some tasty sausages. It was getting really dark while we finished our lovely meal and we all were looking at the stars and trying to spot planets. Soon after we got into our sleeping bags as we were feeling really tired. Early in the morning Jack woke me up to have a chat. “You do realise it is 5 am in the morning,” came a surprising voice. It was Dad. “Please don’t talk so loud.” So we tried to go back to sleep. We got up soon after and packed up the tent and all of our gear. Before we knew it our amazing hunting trip had come to an end and we began our long journey home. NZ Hunting & Wildlife 198 - Spring 2017 31
Page 1 and 2: Hunting NEW ZEALAND SPRING ISSUE 19
Page 3 and 4: Joshua Keen, Tahr, 3rd, G Jamie Fai
Page 5 and 6: Contents News and features Reports
Page 7 and 8: For the past 10 years Natex has pur
Page 9 and 10: Kirstie Wilson and Sue van den Bers
Page 11 and 12: Speech by Hon Peter Dunne, MP for
Page 13 and 14: Tale material produced a number of
Page 15 and 16: Keith Milne, "Purple Flower", 1st,
Page 17 and 18: Mandatory consultation As a statuto
Page 19 and 20: Joshua Keen, "Frosty Morning", 2nd,
Page 21 and 22: TREVOR CHAPPELL TROPHY - Wild sheep
Page 23 and 24: Game management Sika poised for Her
Page 25 and 26: forests at higher altitude within t
Page 27 and 28: Four management units A mixture of
Page 29 and 30: POWER & PRECISION FOR A DEVASTATING
Page 31: A closer look at Pete’s trophy. T
Page 35 and 36: KIDS' PAGE Stephanie Waghorn (14) s
Page 37 and 38: the things that don’t go as well
Page 39 and 40: Game animal management Wakatipu whi
Page 41 and 42: Action plan What actions could be i
Page 43 and 44: “A change of tactics was called f
Page 45 and 46: World Benchrest Championships prepa
Page 47 and 48: for the Chinese. It could be argued
Page 49 and 50: The pathologist at work: Jim used e
Page 51 and 52: McCONACHIE TROPHY (chamois) & EGMON

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