) - hit a large area of state forest I've only ever visited a couple of times before which I knew held good numbers of sambar and hopefully run into some elusive fallow along the way. There was also the odd chance of a pig and/or wild dog as well as the always present fox. After a quick stop at the nearest town for a quick sausage roll, I left the bitumen for the dirt forest road which climbed up to the top of the ridge. I'd done this once before when I had a 4wd, and my memory of the road was that it should be passable in my current 2wd, as long as it wasn't wet. As soon as I started driving up, I discovered that the road had in fact been brushed up by a dozer recently and was in very good condition other than the innumerable rumbles from the dozer tracks. Reaching the top of the ridge where the road branches in each direction, I came across some signs for heavy machinery and as I wasn't too excited about making a descent in the red clay on top of some dew/frost the next morning, I decided to make my way to other side of the mountain to a little quarry I knew of which would provide a nice flat spot to set up the swag. A 20min drive later, I was opening the gate off the farm lane and into the hunting area. Parking up, I unloaded my pack and rifle and set off. My e-scouting had suggested that on the other side of the ridge above me was a long open valley with a small creek wending its way along the length and up into the hills, perfect for finding a deer feeding in the late afternoon light. I'd marked a few other points of interest to cover on the way - a big saddle, a couple of possible points to sit and wait for a cross gully shot and a couple of rocky outcrops. Walking along the track bordering the forest and the farmland, I couldn't help but notice how dry it was with bulldust everywhere from the churning of feet walking in and out of the bush. Every game trail had deer tracks in the fine dust, though as we hadn't had rain for a long period it was impossible to really know how old they were as I was sure the deer were moving in/out of the trees each night. Reaching the little creek that dropped down the side of the ridge above me, I turned and began to make my way up the granite bouldery country. Despite living in very similar country not that far as the crow flies, it was somewhat different to what I was used to with much more prickly coprosma and other species of eucalypts than the apple box and stringy bark I'm used to. In the damper sections I did find vegetation I'm used to seeing, but I was quite surprised to see almost no grass trees as they feature heavily in the goat country I hunt often. Interestingly I did find a couple of native cypress trees, both of which were heavily rubbed by deer including possibly the biggest rub tree I've ever come across - much bigger than the mature native cherry that they often seem to like.
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I also found a heap of rock piles with dugouts from wombats, though I'm sure a wild dog pack wouldn't be above evicting a wombat and taking a patch over for their den (I never did see any sign of dogs though). On the hard trek up the side of the ridge, the pattern of below was repeated in every little patch of dust - deer tracks everywhere, at times out numbering the macropod prints alongside. Pushing up to the top of the ridge, I sat down on a log for a late lunch and to come up with a plan. My options were: poke about a bit and try and ambush deer coming up to use the saddle I was in, head further down the ridge, push hard into the wetter SW facing slopes into the top of some little gullies which would entail some serious walking or drop down into the valley below and stalk the river flats and/or sit and wait for an ambush in the last light. I knew there was a road in the bottom of the valley, so I elected to slowly make my way down, using a small side stream bed just below me as a path into the creek bottom in the hope it would somewhat quieter in the crunchy leaf litter. Then, depending on the wind I would move up the road to scout the gullies branching off the creek and then return the same way, or head downstream and then loop back around the end of the ridge I'd crossed to the car.
Slowly making my way down through the thick scrub, I came across a large amphitheater like opening in the trees ahead of me and figured it would be worth a toot or two on the caller for both deer and foxes. After maybe 10min of calling and nothing moving other than a handful of kookaburras and a large flock of gang-gangs, I kept moving along the little rocky creek bed until I joined the main creek. It immediately opened up into wide flats with some standing timber, brambles, blackberries and grass - deer heaven! Slowly wending my way along the old bush track, a dark shape out of the corner of my eye brought me up - deer oh!! A hind was feeding about 60m from me, facing away where the valley side met the flats. Sinking quickly to my knees, I quietly slid a round into the chamber, but there was a little timber between me and her so I slowly crawled my way towards a couple of standing wattles about 10m away that would give me a rest, some cover and hopefully a better shooting lane. Just as I was about to reach them, the hind turned up hill, ears erect. I knew she couldn't have smelt me as the wind was at 90deg to both of us uphill, and she obviously hadn't heard me as she was staring in the opposite direction. After maybe 20secs, I saw a couple of roos bound from the flats up the side of the hill. As the roos came into my view (the hind must have been watching them), she turned and bolted at a quick trot up into the trees. Bugger!
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After unloading and re-shouldering the rifle, I kept moving for a short while but I was fighting a splitting headache which was being caused I think from the heavy pack I was wearing, so when I reached a nice flat area with some cover around me, I took it off and lay down for about 10-15min to do some alexander technique and hopefully knock the headache on the head (so to speak
). It worked, and I loaded up again and slowly followed the bush track the km or so towards the end of the ridge where I would trek around the point, then back to the car along the farm fringe. Despite the lack of rainfall, the creek was still running nicely, there was green pick along the valley flat (but not up either side of the valley), so I wasn't surprised to see some deer sign, though not in the quantity of the opposite dry dusty face which threw me (and still does!). I was hoping that the track would be suitable for my car, and despite the ever present threat of a sidewall spike, it was in excellent condition for something that wouldn't see any maintenance done at all, and nothing but dirt bikes and possibly the occasional intrepid 4wd or deer hunter. As I reached the end of the ridge, the sun sank below the hills on the other side of the much larger valley over the farmland giving me a fine vista for the trek back to the car. Everywhere there were roos, so i wasn't expecting to see a deer on the way back to the car as the deer angels were moving back into the forest as I came into view.Finally reaching the car just in last light, I light a fire in an abandoned drum and unpacked the car and rolled out the swag for the night. After cooking dinner, I got to listen to a romantic fox calling for a little while, along with the cows bellowing in the early dark. After reading a little by torchlight, I rolled into the swag for a cold night. In the end, I found it uncomfortably claustrophobic in warm clothes and thick sleeping bag and threw the mattress in the back of the car for the second half of the night. Ironically, as I stepped out of the swag for a leak, a sambar honked me from the farmland below.
Rising in the dawn light, I had breakfast and eventually managed to brew a coffee after I realised the gas canister was freezing in the near zero air. Loading everything up, I set off to drive to the second part of the trip and visit the other side of the bigger farming valley.
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Although I'd not had a frost around me, there was frost on a rubbish pile over 2m high in the bottom of the valley, and I could follow the frost line in the contours of the line as I drove the 10min to the next spot, where I quickly grabbed my rifle and bag and set off ,again up a steep slope. I've found fallow evidence at the top and the other side of the ridge I was at the bottom of, and have been told there have been white fallow seen in the area. Pushing up the forestry track, I left the car behind and pushed up into the bush, following a small finger ridge until I hit an old road that wasn't marked on the map (and couldn't find the road that was
). It was covered in fallen trees and logs, clearly not in use but still giving good access and with a view of about 100m either side, a good way to cover ground quietly in the hope of getting the jump on any animals. Bumping a few roos was all that happened, but when I nearly reached the top of the ridge with the road climbing the whole way, I decided to drop down a nice tight gully and immediately picked up a deer highway following the creek line with numerous prints, droppings and a couple of rub trees. It also looked a good spot to be able to take a fairly short shot cross gully and ambush a deer moving down in the evening to feed below. Pushing my way down, I bumped some more roos before I reached the road at the edge of the state forest and turned back to the car. Keeping my eye peeled on the bulldust in the road, I was interested to see a number of deer prints (some of both sambar and fallow I think), but they didn't seem to be using the game trails in/out of the forest and were in fact using the road as it's primary purpose - a travel route.Reaching the car, I re-packed everything and with still half a day or so to go, I decided to cross to the other side of the same ridge, and hopefully find a good trail to drop my game camera off to see if I can pick up some fallow passing through. As I left the main road to the minor forest roads, I again found that a dozer had been through recently and had brushed them all up again. Checking the map, I left the car and headed up the closest gully with the intent of climbing to almost the top, paralleling the ridge top into the next creek along, then making my way back down to the road. The gully I made my way up didn't seem to have any sign of deer until I'd almost reached the top of the ridge, the open tussocky grasses under the mature trees was without any understorey except in the wetter folds of the hill. Making my way was noisy and difficult, but as I began to approach the creek gully about 100m away, I slowed down somewhat and began to pick my way carefully along a small game trail. For some reason, I looked down the hill to my right, straight into the face of a sambar stag, again about 60m away looking at me. "Busted" was my first thought and stood stock still and waited for the explosion as he bolted. After maybe half a minute or so, with nothing more than a few ear flaps I began to re-consider. Perhaps he was hoping I'd walk past without him having to move. I very slowly sank to my knees but still he didn't move. V e r y s l o w l y I chambered a round, but I found that I couldn't get the crosshairs on him due to the roll of the hill between us, and as he was bedded up the angles were working against me.
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There was an old burnt out stump a couple of meters behind me, so I very slowly crawled my way to it, but found that a) it wasn't strong enough to support the rifle, and although the stag's head was now out of view, I couldn't get a safe line of fire on his shoulders. After another 5min or so of me expecting him to bust out of there without warning, I decided that he must be just about asleep, only using his ears to keep safe and occasionally turning his head and having a glance. It was comfortably warm, and he had no need to move in the near future, so I dropped my pack and inched my way further along the game trail to a spot where his head was again behind a tree, but found that this time there was a sapling right in line with his shoulders.
By this time about 15-20min had passed, so I figured as long as the winds held, I kept my nerve and quiet I had a good shot at a mature unalarmed stag. Looking around for somewhere I could possibly gain a few extra inches, but still keep his eyes covered, I looked back and couldn't see him. A quick glance around, and I could see the leaves on a black wattle just ahead of where he was sitting shaking. As I looked again, he stepped out behind the cover between us, and slowly began to walk along the trail he was on. I quickly grabbed the rifle, set up on my knees and as he again stepped into a clearing between the tree trunks I slid my ear buds in, lined up the crosshairs and took the shot.
Immediately the stag took off, with a 'something ain't right, but I'm not staying here to work it out' run, rather than a full panicked run of a hit and when he slowed a little before he crested the edge of the fold about 150m away, I had a clear shot but as I was fairly convinced I'd missed him cleanly, I elected not to take a risky shot and possibly wound an unwounded animal. He disappeared over the crest and I was alone again. I waited a few minutes, then stood up and began to make my way down to his bed. As I did, I heard clattering up above me on the opposite face, and saw a hind climbing hard spooked by my bipedal form, but not the gunshot. Reaching the bed, I followed the game trail out, tracking his foot falls for about 250m without seeing a drop of blood, even though the dry white grass, bare earth and occasional log he stepped over were perfect for showing any drops. As his footsteps petered out, I kept searching, occasionally finding what could have been his tracks before giving it up, chalking it as a bad shot on my half and headed back to the car.
How the feck I managed to walk through open dry forest like this to within 60m of a mature stag? It's got me beat as well
Might have to change my name to Ninja Steve 
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From the bed looking up to where I took the shot
Heading home to unpack and the 3S's I was somewhat pleased at how the trip had worked out, twice I'd managed to get within 60m of unalarmed sambar and although I'd muffed a shot, the freezer is still full so I wasn't too worried.
This morning (being my birthday), after the other two had headed off, I thought I'd duck out for a quick hunt and drop off the trail cam at a well used game trail that I've used a couple of times in my local area. Taking the smaller pack, I threw in a knife and a game bag on the off chance, I didn't really expect to have the time to spend stalking quietly but when carrying a firearm, expect to use it!
Leaving the car, I climbed hard up the ridge to about level with the game trails elevation, then contoured across the side of the hill through a couple of small gullies. Everything was super dry and dusty also, with very little in the way of green pick for the animals to feed on. When I reached the game trail, I found that the usual fortunes of animal movement had again foiled my attempts to understand them and it was pretty well unused apart from the odd wombat dropping dotted along it's length. With a few hours till available, I decided to drop down to the creek, cross through another area I had thought of leaving the cam in a little pinch point, then either head back to the car along the road sans camera, or if it was still onboard, cross into the next creek and smash it back to the car in the hope of finding somewhere likely to leave it tied to a tree. Unfortunately the other area was also very light on for deer (or any) sign, so I pushed on stopping for lunch at the top of the hill between the two creeks. As I dropped off the top and down the point where the creek turned at 90deg, I bumped something large and deery that took off downhill and away, so I slowed down a little and pulled out the sambar caller. I've been playing with it a little lately, removing the thick plastic protective cover which enables me to get a much higher and controlled squeak. I'd watched some trail camera videos of sambar spikes calling which were much higher than what the caller could imitate in it's original form. Stopping in some thick dogwood and brush, I let out a few calls and waited for a minute or two before walking another 10-20m and repeating. After a handful of repeats, I thought I heard something move on the other side of the creek, maybe 150m away, but it wasn't repeated. I kept calling and slowly moving when suddenly I heard something moving below me in the thick creek bottom so I stopped and waited. Just below me about 60m away was an old road, long since grown over and forgotten. Out of nowhere I saw the back of a sambar above the cutting on the high side of the road. A hind walked quickly along the road a short way before turning and stepping up onto a game trail directly below me. She knew exactly where the calling was coming from, but appeared unalarmed by my now immobile presence. Very slowly I slid a round into the chamber and my earplugs in. Not believing she still hadn't bolted, I carefully lifted the rifle and lined up the crosshairs with the centre of her neck to allow for the somewhat downhill shot. I gently squeezed off the trigger and the silence was broken by the roar of the '06. She fell back, tumbled over until all I could see was her chest now skyward and her legs kicked a couple of times and were still. Holy hell, I sure wasn't expecting that!!!!
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I couldn't believe that I'd called a hind in so close, she certainly acted calmly up until it was too late, even after she was facing me off about 60m away. I wasn't at all covered up by any brush, and can only assume that my calling had either piqued her curiosity so when she saw my vertical form she didn't turn tail.
I quickly took the backstraps, did a bit of an autopsy and tipped her into the blackberries below. As I was only a short distance from where I had seen the possible wild dog (and having 2 other sambar carcasses completely disappear in a couple of weeks), I set up the game camera which luckily also covered 3 different game trails, from the creek bottom up, along the road and the one I'd followed down from the hill above.
Loading up I punched back to the bush road along the abandoned road, can't complain about a day like that!
