1
John with
a prime fox
taken on night one.
2
It was tough
going, but
four foxes in this
area is a good
nights’ haul.
3
A 25gn
Hornady
V-max behind a
stout load of 2208
made short work
of this fox.
The familiar sound of a solid hit
followed and fox number two for
the night was in the bag.
We continued along our regular
route and another 30 minutes
passed before anything
interesting happened.
Approaching the gate to another
paddock we could see something
with the spotty way up ahead. Just
one of those quick glimpses where
you’re left wondering “What the
heck was that?” A fox, a cat or a
reflection of something – who
knows? Oddly enough, as we got
closer neither of us could see
anything, absolutely nothing.
We stopped in the area where we
thought it was and just waited
before giving the spotlight another
wave around. After a few minutes
I worked the spotty across the
paddock and sure enough, picked
up a pair of eyes partly obscured
by long grass. Of course, I knew
almost immediately it was a cat
because they always seem to act
differently compared to a fox in thespotlight. To me they seem dumber
than a fox, especially when they
slink around in long grass thinking
you can’t see them. Anyway,
moments later it came into plain
view and I could see it crystal
clear, so it copped a 25gn Hornady
Hollow point right behind the ear
instantly sending it to cat heaven.
By now, it was well and truly
past midnight, so we motored back
to the quarters for a night cap and
quick shower in what we
affectionately call the “Turkish
steam bath” before hitting the sack.
The following night we didn’t hit
the road until around 7.00pm. It
was a moonless night and black,
pitch black. Just the sort of night
I like for spotlighting. We slowly
made our way to a far flung corner
of the property. It was an area
where I hadn’t done too much
spotlighting previously , although
on the odd occasion I’d been there
it didn’t really produce much, just
the odd fox every now and then.
We cruised along slowly until we
came to the sheep yards where we
needed to open at least fourdifferent gates to get into the
neighbouring paddock. It was a
right royal pain in the neck, but
fortunately, John picked up another
fox in the spotty just as I was
opening the last gate, It was
300m-400m up along the fence line
but whether it was still there when
we travelled up there remained to
be seen. I kept the spotty off to
avoid spooking it while hoping it
would still be there as we got
closer. Sure enough, when we had
a look around where we thought it
might be, a pair of bright eyes stood
out like the proverbial. But he was
off in an instant and wasn’t
stopping for anything. A few quick
calls with my Scotch Predator call
didn’t even get a response. I could
see it clearly enough in the spotty
and John said he had the cross
hairs squarely on target. Just as it
was getting out of range by buddy
took the shot. The familiar thud
that followed was the sweetest
sound. “Good shot!” I said, as
another red dog bit the dust.
With our first fox for the night in
the back of the ute, we continued
on. The track was overgrown and
barely visible and I kept thinking,
we don’t want to leave the track
here otherwise we’’ll have trouble
finding it again. But as luck would
have it, in a few minutes we had to
leave the track to pursue a fox that
was about 400m away to our right.
It was too far to take a shot, so
halving the distance seemed like
a good idea if a confirmed kill was
our intent.30 | SPORTING SHOOTER _ APRIL 2015
FOX
SHOOTINGIt copped a
25gn Hornady
Hollowpoint
right behind
t he ea r.”
1 2
3
ON THIS
PAGE