the rattles started. He was standing in the bush line with just
his head in the open, head up and very, very aware of the sur-
roundings. Dare I move? Should I pick up the bow? (Remember
I was sitting on a platform three metres up with no cover other
than a leafy suit at a mere 10 yards.) What was going through
my mind? The wind was starting to swirl again, the drum at
the feeder lifted his snout and bolted with the Giant in tow.
At this point I felt like jumping off the tree stand headfirst.
Had this opportunity really been blown by a swirl in the wind?
So the emotions hit rock-bottom and you sat with your head in
your hands and contemplated what just actually happened. You
started second-guessing yourself: Should I have put on scent
control, should I be burning zebra dung?
08:
Pocket edition warthogs came in (piglets from December – no
mamma).
No sooner do they come in than the drum suddenly
appeared and in tow came the Giant. The pocket rockets
bolted in the presence of the drum and the Giant ventured
into the open. My heart rate was now in hyper-drive –
hands had somewhat of a shake to them as I easied the bow
off the hook. At this point I did not have a shot on the Giant
but I was ready. The minutes felt like hours. The drum
gave me every shot imaginable – 360 degrees. Meanwhile
the Giant became suspicious and sought out to investigate
everything. While setting up the back camera I put my kit
down on the ground below the tree stand. He promptly
walked up to the spot, put his head down, smelt and lifted
his head looking straight at me. Remember he was now a
full three metres away from me and he looked directly into
my eyes for a full 10 seconds. I bit my lower lip and thought
almost aloud: wind, wind,stay on my side.
He eventually broke eye contact and walked around the
only bush and tree in the open area and headed straight
for the feeder. Naturally the drum gave way as any respect-
able animal would when being approached by another
with a serious set of weapons. I decided at this point that I
would start to draw and that when he got to the feeder and
stopped I would let loose as I was not sure when the wind
was going to bust me. As I came to full draw he stopped
under the feeder and promptly bolted for cover, leav-
ing me f lustered. I could not let down as I still had him in
view and I was concerned that the let down “thunk” of the
bow was going to chase him once and for all. So I kept the
pose. Thirty seconds rolled by and he started to progress
towards the feeder. I rotated to get him in my sights but
he was behind the bush, so I tracked him as he ventured
forward step by step. There was a hole in the bush about
the size of an orange and I knew if he could get to there I
had the ability at this range to thread the needle through
the gap.
Another ten seconds passed. The shake of being at full
draw started taking its toll but he crept forward. Gleaming
ivory passed the gap, thick heavy neck, forward part of the
shoulder and he stopped!
This was too much. My nerves were shot, the blood
pressure was through the roof, the gut was wrenching but
I held. He took two steps forward. I had a clear shot of the
upper lungs and I decided, well the wind could bust me at
any moment, I was just going to let f ly and deal with the
follow-up after – this is after all the warthog trophy of a
lifetime.
As I loosed the arrow time slowed. I saw the arrow f ly
straight and true right through that orange- sized hole.
The Giant reacted and string jumped as they do, but it was
too late. The arrow had found its mark. It was a little high
because of the string-jump attempt but the arrow made
its way through the spine. The Giant roared and dragged
himself off on his front legs, hindquarters were no longer
receiving the message to run, and he disappeared from
view into the nearby riverbed. I sat there ears full of white
noise – this is so surreal, did this really just happen? Had I
just harvested a “giant” in the world of South African wart-
hogs. Then the buck fever (bokkoors) started in earnest.
I waited 30 minutes, packed up all my kit and climb
cautiously out of the tree. Racked the Glock and nocked an
arrow. I did a bit of camera work to kill a more time and
then started with the follow-up. There was no blood but a
huge drag trail to the river. Cautiously I followed the trail.
As I came to the river I peaked over the edge – the Giant was
down and had succumbed to the arrow. I believe my shout
of joy and glee could have been heard in Pretoria. Then a
funny thing happened: a feeling of sadness came over me.
This was for me a truly humbling experience. I had shot
many things in my life but this ranked as probably one of
the best. I sat with this pig for a long time, touching every
inch of those pearly whites, feeling the ragged ears of this
old survivor, admiring that a pig carrying this size ivory
was indeed a worthy adversary since he had not attained
this size or age by being stupid. In a way I was burning this
morning into my memory and honouring this magnificent
beast as there was only myself there to live the experience.
I had achieved a thing that many will most likely never ever
see in their lifetime, let alone have an opportunity to shoot,
and I had done it with a bow and got it on camera.
Words cannot ever describe the emotion of this type of
hunt. I hope I have honoured the harvesting of such a mag-
nificent animal with these few words.
The Giant measured 14⅜ inches and 14 (Roland Ward
is 13 inches). •Draw weight: 52 lbs
Draw length: 32 inches
Arrow speed: 239 fps
Arrow total weight: 610 g
Broadhead: Fixed 3-blade broadheadThe hunt can be watched here: https://youtu.be/
O0393nE94-U
Measurements: https://youtu.be/mKiSRsKOcsClick to see
the video