A Night of Hog Hunting

A Night of Hog Hunting, East Texas Style

 
 
         The sun shone brightly; bringing a small amount of heat to the February afternoon along a river bottom in Deep East Texas. We were scouting this area of National Forest for future reference, we'd been there for about an hour. It was getting dusky out and we hadn’t seen any fresh sign that had looked promising. Typically we would have seen some deer and hog sign. The dogs were staying pretty close and hadn’t really shown much interest.
 
         It was just nice to get out, enjoy the company of the dogs; a pleasant afternoon. We headed back to the truck to go home.
 
         Rounding a bend in the trail, the truck was in sight. Suddenly the dogs peeled out, racing past the truck and into the pine sapling thicket.
 
         Standing at the truck and discussing what to do about the dogs; whether to call them in or to go see where they had gone. The barking started in earnest, the dogs were bayed, there was no question now, we had to go to the dogs. I grabbed my rifle from the truck seat and as a second thought grabbed the flashlight.
 
         Our excitement grew as we thrashed through the thicket. Fighting our way through pine limbs and briar vines that threatened to tangle our feet and arms. We raised our hands protecting our faces, slipped and slid on the damp leaves under foot and arrived at the top of a creek bank. Panting and out of breath we stood there surveying the creek scene ten feet below us. The dogs were at bay around a black mass in the creek. The day was just on the verge of getting dark and details weren’t clear.
 
         Every time I am fortunate enough to be able to watch my dogs work I feel something that is indescribable. You work and train your dogs and there is a trust you build there, a friendship; a bond between a man and his dogs that just really can’t be explained.
 
         At a bend in the creek, Sandy (a big red bob-tailed dog), Tiny (a short legged - 35 - pound red cur dog), and Trouble (a blonde brindle-striped catahoula), stood baying to the left. They were rushing in and out, but not getting too close. Just close enough to keep it in check. Naughty (a black cur and pit), Tuff (a blue leopard catahoula) and Climber (a yellow cur) stood baying to the right.
 
         Weldon shined the two-cell flashlight, while I looked through the scope of my rifle; I could just make out a big black blob and a set of tusks. I shouted for the dogs to back up and I shot. The hog fell into the creek, but there was still a big black hog in the creek standing up looking at us.
 
         "Weldon, I think we’re in trouble!" I exclaimed, just as the big black hog wheeled and ran to the left. Sandy, Tiny and Trouble were waiting for him. Seeing that I couldn’t get a shot from this angle we worked our way to the left searching for a place to get down into the creek. We made for a little dry area, in between the creek bank and the water just 20 - 30 feet from the action. Once on the sand bar, I raised my rifle while Weldon stood behind me shining the flashlight on the hog. I shouted at the dogs, "Get back!" and shot.
 
         The hog wheeled and headed to the right. Naughty, Tuff and Climber stopped him and he turned back towards us. Weldon held up the light and I took aim, the light went out just as I shot. The hog bolted down the creek. The dogs turned him around again.
 
         I shouted, "Weldon, hold that light!"
Weldon shook the light, banged it against his hand and held it up again. Just as I had the shot again, the light went out. I cussed Weldon good, which I have had to profusely apologize for ever since.
 
         "Look, why don’t you hold the light and I’ll shoot!" Shouts Weldon as the hog lunges towards us.
 
         By this time the hog was in a rage, he slung dogs right and left as he scrambled up the creek bank. Naughty was there first and grabbed at his nose every time he reached the top. The other dogs were hounding him from below. Not accomplishing anything he fell back into the creek and slung the dogs away from him. Lunging straight for us, twenty, fifteen, ten feet from us.
 
         Experience had shown us that with a charging boar the best action to follow was to, Panic! I dropped my rifle and we hastily searched for a tree to climb. There was one, it had to do, we both grabbed a hold of the lower limbs and pulled ourselves up as high as we could. It wasn’t high enough if the hog made it that far, but it would have to do.
 
         "Suey, stop him, suuu-ey!" I was steady talking to the dogs. They stopped the hog just short of us. I was really talking to the dogs now. The dogs moved in between the hog and the tree and started backing him around the bend in the creek. They backed him up into the creek bank, he couldn’t move an inch without a dog stopping him.
 
         Cautiously we dropped back down to the ground keeping an eye on the hog and the dogs. We picked up the rifle and light. Weldon worked on the light and once it was working, pointed it out into the woods away from the hog and dogs.
 
         "Alright, when you think you have the hog lined up Troy, I’ll point the light and you shoot."
 
         I lined up my scope on the hog, "Alright!" I yelled, as I told the dogs to get back. Weldon pointed the light at the hog, the dogs backed up and I shot. I shot again, just as fast as I could. The hog dropped practically at my feet.
 
         We grabbed the dogs and leashed them up to nearby shrubs and stood there heaving.
 
         Weldon whistled, then exclaimed, "What a hog!"
 
         He didn’t have the biggest set of cutters we’d ever seen, maybe three inches, but as far as size, he was huge. Probably the biggest hog we had ever shot, he dressed out to 400 lbs.
 
         But it wasn’t over yet.
 
         We field dressed the two hogs; the first wasn’t as big as this one, about 250 lbs. Tying a rope around the smaller hog we climbed to the top of the creek bank and pulled him up. Now, trying the same technique on the bigger hog didn’t work. We couldn’t budge him an inch. So I went down into the creek, got my shoulder up under the hog and Weldon pulled from on top. Nothing! Now this called for drastic measures. Weldon pulled the rope around a tree trunk and I pushed with my shoulder, some success, we moved the hog up the bank one inch at a time. When I finally made it to the top, we both fell to the ground gasping for breath and grinned at each other. Then we looked at the two hogs and at each other and we just couldn’t stop grinning.
 
         "That was one heck of a hog hunt!” We both exclaimed together.
 
         "What do we do now? The truck is at least a quarter mile away, I know I can’t make it and looking at you I don’t think you can either. Not with these two bad boys. We need help”
 
         It was decided, Weldon would go back to the truck and go get help. I would stay with the hogs. The dogs followed Weldon back to the truck.
 
         When Weldon had offered to go back to the truck and get help, leaving all this fresh meat with me, I hadn't thought about being all alone, with no light or anyway to make a fire. I certainly hadn't thought about the coyotes. I leaned back against a log and tried to get comfortable.
 
         I rested my rifle on the log. I checked my pockets for rifle shells. None. Then I checked the chamber of the gun. There was one shell, that was it. A splash. My finger tightened just slightly on the trigger.
 
         A noise, leaves rustling out in front of me, leaning forward I tried to see into the darkness. It was useless, there wasn’t even a moon out.
 
         There it was again. There was something or someone definitely moving out in front of me. I jumped, something cold and wet rubbed against the back of my neck, I was ready. “Sandy!” I could tell by his short soft coat. He licked my face and sat down against me. One by one the other dogs started joining me. They didn’t wander away or act restless, they were there to watch over me.
 
         Behind me, down by the creek, the coyotes howled. My dogs stood alert, their hackles raised, growling low in their chest. I peered into the deep gloom behind me, knowing that the coyotes were surrounding us.
 
         There was a splash. My finger tightened just slightly on the trigger. The dogs listened intently. Suddenly a shapeless dark mass leaped upon the end of the log.
 
         The dogs wagged their tails. “Tuff! You almost got shot!” I said as I rubbed him all over.
 
         Well, that was all the dogs, any other noise had better be Weldon and the help he was bringing, my nerves couldn’t handle much more.
 
         "Troy, where are you?”
 
         "Over here! Boy am I glad to see you boys! Was beginning to think the coyotes were going to get here first though.”
 
         "Well, what did ya’ll get?” Chris asked as he stood over the hogs.
 
         "Two big hogs that need to get back to the truck. We sure are glad of the help, we couldn’t hardly get that big one out of the creek.”
 
         Chris and Billy grabbed the smaller of the two hogs and headed for the truck. Weldon and I could hardly keep up. We dropped the hog by the tail gate and started back for the other one. The dogs started barking and then bayed in earnest.
 
         Chris shouted, “They have a hog!”
 
         I was worn out and just wanted to get the hogs we had to the truck and go home. I was sure Weldon felt the same.
 
         I looked at Chris and Billy and said,” Let’s get the hogs we have to the truck and call the dogs in, I can’t handle much more of this.”
 
         Chris and Billy took off through the woods and scooped up the big hog without much effort and headed back to the truck, with me and Weldon trying to keep up. The hogs were put into the truck and then the boys took off after the dogs.
 
         Weldon and I stood there staring off into the woods. “I’m not going.” We both said together.
 
         After a short time, we couldn’t stand it and off we went toward the sound of the dogs.