Two handguns for two hogs, that is.
Was working on guns in my cave this afternoon when I decided to text a rancher friend of mine. I said, "If you have pigs need killing....I have handguns need testing."
Awhile later, he called. Asked me what I was doing and said to meet him at his hunting camp in 30 minutes. Holy CRAP! Sure!
Grabbed my hunting ruck, BOG Gear PSR, 7.5" Redhawk .44 Mag, 10" MGM Barreled .357 Mag Contender, loaded the truck, and headed out in about 15 minutes. It's about a 5 minute drive to his place and I met up with him at his camp. He said he had a feeder in the back of his property that had game cam pics of a bunch of hogs coming to feed. We crawled in the box blind around 4:30 and he said the feeder should go off around 5 o'clock.
I set the Redhawk on the PSR and figured I'd use it for the long shots and save the Contender for if something came close.
The feeder was 80 yards away in an old food plot. Mist was falling and temps were warm. Generally............muggy.
The rancher had brought an AR with him and said he would back me up if needed. I think he just wanted to shoot something with his new gun as well. I asked what he was using and he said 40gr V-Max. Better be head shots, then!
At 4:55, a nice red boar came out of the brush on the far side of the field and ambled towards the feeder. That sucker must have one heck of a mental clock, because he walked under the feeder RIGHT when it went off and showered him with corn. Ironically, it startled him a bit and he ran back a few yards. When he stopped, I cocked the hammer of the Redhawk, placed the reticle of the 4x Simmons scope on his shoulder, relaxed, and squeezed the trigger.
The 325gr WFN-GC smacked him in the shoulder at 85 yards and he let out a squeal. Instantly, his back side collapsed and he sat down. Just as he was falling over, the rancher shot him with the .223 Remington. More because he wanted to use his new rifle and scope than because the pig needed help giving up the ghost. He lay there on the ground kicking for a minute or two and then all was still.
We contemplated getting out and calling it a day. But, figured we had plenty of time and decided to wait until dark in the off chance that more would come. So, I replaced the Redhawk with the Contender.
While we waited, the drizzle increased. Then at about 5:30, the wind suddenly picked up, a fog blew in and the temp dropped about 20 degrees!!! It was the eeriest thing. Like that Steven King movie "The Mist". The cold front had arrived. Finally, shivering in the blind, I noticed a large black form exit the brush to the left of the feeder as light faded. He ambled up to the feeder and I told the rancher I'd shoot when he was broadside. We both had earplugs in and I guess our plan got discombobulated. The boar was facing away while I aimed at him and waited for a good broadside shot. Suddenly.........BANG! The rancher shot the boar in the butt (later he said he thought it was his head). The boar jumped and took off running to the right.
Knowing the rancher was using 40gr V-Max and that there was no way in Hell that bullet was going to penetrate far enough to reach anything, I lead the pig and fired a shot as he ran. At the shot, the boar nose dived in the dirt, did an about face, and ran back to the left now. I reloaded as the rancher fired 2 more shots.........missing before he entered the brush.
Then, the clouds opened up and it began to pour.
Quickly, I ran across the field to try and find any blood and ascertain where he'd entered the brush before the rain totally washed away all sign of blood. In the failing light I reached the spot I thought he'd exited the field. Looking down, I see no sign. Then..........looking up.........I see his huge form 10 yards in front of me down the trail. Standing there with his head down.
And you know what? I didn't have a gun!!! Because of the pouring rain.....I'd left it in the blind. CRAP!!!
I quietly back up a few yards then turn and sprint across the field in the rain. Passing the rancher (who didn't have his gun either) about half way, I told him that sucker was RIGHT THERE in the brush! Continuing my sprint, I retrieve my Contender and run back to the boar. Fortunately, he is still in the same spot.
It's almost dark. It's raining. It's muddy. I have a single shot pistol in my hand and a big wounded boar in front of me. "Thumbs up, let's do this! Leroooooooooyyyyy......" (namethatreference)
I crouch and slowly walk forward to clear some brush. At about 5 yards..........I raise up and put a 180gr Hornady XTP through his back and into his chest. With a Hellacious squeal, the boar falls over kicking. I back out and wait. Telling the rancher that we should go load up the red boar and let this one die. He hardily agreed.
In the cold, driving rain, we load the red boar into the Mule. Then, head over to the big one. I tell the Rancher I'm out of bullets as we enter the brush. But, I have two knives!!! Let's go! Fortunately...........he was dead.
I kicked my own butt dragging that sucker out of the brush in the slippery mud. Then, it took both of us to load him in the Mule. Went back to the blind to retrieve our gear........then........soaked.......freezing.........and laughing.........we drove back to the hunting camp. That was not your average hunt.