Posted By: cmnash
A hurricane , a handgun , and a huge bear. - 10/11/2016 12:56 AM
The state of Georgia has a huntable bear population in three zones; the northern, central, and southern. I live in the northern. Baiting is not allowed in any zone and dogs are only allowed in the southern. The northern season is liberal and open throughout deer season, the central is open for a single day each year, and the southern is open for three 3 day hunts. I have been fortunate enough to kill two bears still hunting in the northern zone, but hunting with hounds has always interested me. This year I had the opportunity to join a dog hunting club in deep southeast Georgia.
I headed south to Fargo despite the ominous weather forecast including hurricane Matthew. Day one would be good, but the hurricane would arrive Friday and possibly wash out the hunt.
In camp the night before the hunt I broke the news to the club members that I would be shooting a revolver. I met a good bit of resistance and distrust. In fact , the leadman informed me another member would follow up and shoot my bear with a rifle. I assured him it would not be necessary, but he was adament that I would not be the reason a dog was injured. I agreed.
I am going skip over a lot of the intricacies of the hunt to keep it short . Everyone heads out at first light to find fresh bear tracks in the sand roads of the hunting club. When a worthwhile track is found, a trailing dog confirms and starts the chase. As the race heats up, more dogs are added and men and trucks race the two track roads to get in front of the bear. At some point enough dogs are in pursuit to tree or bay the bear.
One bear was cought on day one and the chase ended with a ground fight, some dicey shooting by others, and some cut up dogs. Once again, I was asked to use a borrowed rifle. I declined.
Despite some hard hunting another bear for me could not be found that day and the hurricane would arrive the next day.
Day two dawned with a drizzling rain and a stroke of good fortune. A big bear was spotted while riding the roads and the dogs were HOT! After a short race and blitz in the truck it was time to beat the bush to the treed bear. Once again I was offered a rifle. A short walk in the pines led to a thicket and a big bear in a tree. It was chaos as at least 18 dogs barked, bellowed, and wore the bark off the tree.
The dogs were collected and tied to leads as the moment of truth arrived. The bear was just a big black blob of fur with no landmarks of shoulder or ribs to place my bullet. I asked the lead houndsman where he wanted the bear shot. He was blunt- " Shoot that son of a b*+?# in the head. Dont let that bear out of the tree alive". The only shot I could make out was the head and despite my reservations on head shots I was not going to put dogs or men in danger.
I raised my sixgun and settled my front sight. One more time I was offered a long gun.
I broke the trigger and the 44 roared. The bear slumped- stone cold dead- his head dropping and blood raining down like a faucet. I knew it was over but houndsmen behind me barked SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT! I obliged and ran another 320 hardcast through the bear from onside elbow to offside ribs.
The bear hung in the tree for a few tense seconds before the limbs gave way and the bear crashed at my feet with a tremendous thud ,coming so close that I pushed it away as I stepped back.
A lot of celebration and work later the bear was checked by the DNR and weighed 491 pounds on the scale.
The rain and wind of hurricane Matthew arrived while we were at the check station. It was a wet skinning and cleaning job but I didn't mind. I was enjoying the high of a successful handgun hunt.
could somebody be a pal and post the pictures from the Bragging Board?
I headed south to Fargo despite the ominous weather forecast including hurricane Matthew. Day one would be good, but the hurricane would arrive Friday and possibly wash out the hunt.
In camp the night before the hunt I broke the news to the club members that I would be shooting a revolver. I met a good bit of resistance and distrust. In fact , the leadman informed me another member would follow up and shoot my bear with a rifle. I assured him it would not be necessary, but he was adament that I would not be the reason a dog was injured. I agreed.
I am going skip over a lot of the intricacies of the hunt to keep it short . Everyone heads out at first light to find fresh bear tracks in the sand roads of the hunting club. When a worthwhile track is found, a trailing dog confirms and starts the chase. As the race heats up, more dogs are added and men and trucks race the two track roads to get in front of the bear. At some point enough dogs are in pursuit to tree or bay the bear.
One bear was cought on day one and the chase ended with a ground fight, some dicey shooting by others, and some cut up dogs. Once again, I was asked to use a borrowed rifle. I declined.
Despite some hard hunting another bear for me could not be found that day and the hurricane would arrive the next day.
Day two dawned with a drizzling rain and a stroke of good fortune. A big bear was spotted while riding the roads and the dogs were HOT! After a short race and blitz in the truck it was time to beat the bush to the treed bear. Once again I was offered a rifle. A short walk in the pines led to a thicket and a big bear in a tree. It was chaos as at least 18 dogs barked, bellowed, and wore the bark off the tree.
The dogs were collected and tied to leads as the moment of truth arrived. The bear was just a big black blob of fur with no landmarks of shoulder or ribs to place my bullet. I asked the lead houndsman where he wanted the bear shot. He was blunt- " Shoot that son of a b*+?# in the head. Dont let that bear out of the tree alive". The only shot I could make out was the head and despite my reservations on head shots I was not going to put dogs or men in danger.
I raised my sixgun and settled my front sight. One more time I was offered a long gun.
I broke the trigger and the 44 roared. The bear slumped- stone cold dead- his head dropping and blood raining down like a faucet. I knew it was over but houndsmen behind me barked SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT! I obliged and ran another 320 hardcast through the bear from onside elbow to offside ribs.
The bear hung in the tree for a few tense seconds before the limbs gave way and the bear crashed at my feet with a tremendous thud ,coming so close that I pushed it away as I stepped back.
A lot of celebration and work later the bear was checked by the DNR and weighed 491 pounds on the scale.
The rain and wind of hurricane Matthew arrived while we were at the check station. It was a wet skinning and cleaning job but I didn't mind. I was enjoying the high of a successful handgun hunt.
could somebody be a pal and post the pictures from the Bragging Board?
