Originally Posted by
Larry Gibson
jaw was hitting the ground and her eyes were as wide as saucers! As I galloped toward the crippled sow, I shouted back to her that I would be back. I was able to close the distance to the crippled hog quickly, dismount and finish the job with a shot to the sow’s head. I again swung back into the saddle and at a gallop crested the hill in pursuit of the boar and last sow. I glanced back at the farmhouse seeing the neighbor lady waving at me and saw the calves still running in all directions. I was even more certain then I was in really big trouble for "doing something stupid".
However, I had no time to feel sorry for myself as the boar and last sow were now more than halfway back to the fence line. If I was going to be in big trouble, then the other two hogs were not going to get away with putting me in that situation. I knew there was no way, even as fast as my horse was, that I could beat them to the property line fence. I turned my horse toward the left open gate. We went sailing through the gate at a full gallop heading for the thicket as I figured that's where the boar was trying to get back to. I made it to the edge of the thicket just in time to dismount, shove two more cartridges into the magazine and take up an ambush position where the trail from the fence came into the thicket. I had little or no time to wait. My blood was still rushing, my heart was pounding, and I was sweating like the proverbial "stuck hog" as the boar, in the lead, came straight down the trail. I got two quick shots into him straight on in the front shoulders at maybe 30-40 yards and then had a broadside running shot on the sow as she swung around the side of me still trying to make the thicket. The shot, at a very short range, took her through both front shoulders and she piled up. I quickly levered in another round and swung back to shoot the boar again, but it was not necessary as he was down for keeps. I was so pumped up I think I let a war hoop out that wouldn't quit and probably did a little victory dance too!
Getting on my horse I then rode back to the house to see if my father had returned yet. On the way the shakes set in, and I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. For the first time in my life, I was truly scared of the consequences of something I had engaged in. Maybe I did do something stupid and took a few chances, but the thrill was unbelievable. My mother had my father and the other two guys in tow when I rode up. She looked awfully relieved and was glad to see me. The first inkling she had of the whole adventure was a very excited telephone call from the neighbor lady. When I told her what happened she took the new bottle of Old Crow away from my father and his two buddies. She proceeded to tell them, in no uncertain terms, that of all the dumb and stupid things to do was to leave me alone to shoot the hogs. In defense my father replied saying that I was entirely capable of handling the situation and, in fact, had done so. I knew I was off the hook then as he was acting downright proud of me. She ordered them to go back up on the hill and take care of the dead hogs. My mother said I needed to put my horse away and go to the neighbors with her.
I was glad as I was pretty worn out and wasn't looking forward to helping load the dead hogs. I think my mother saw I was a little scared as she told me I had done a good job even if it was probably very foolish. My mother and I then drove over to the neighbors in our old Rambler station wagon; she had me take a "snort" of the Old Crow on the way and it settled my nerves a bit. The owner was there by then with his wife who was all excited about that brave boy who saved her life from the marauding pack of 40 or 50 "wild crazed hogs!" After some discussion my mother let them have the sow hog, I'd killed in their pasture for their dog that had to be "put down" and the trouble caused. The neighbor already had the calves rounded up and the fence fixed so there wasn't much other damage. The bright side was the daughter who had come home with her father. I had for some time thought she was kind of pretty, but she was a year ahead of me in school and had not even noticed me before. Seems that for the first time she took notice and smiled at me asking if we could go horseback riding sometime, but then - that's another story.
After leaving the neighbor's place mother and I stopped by the top of the hill where my father and the other two guys had managed to find the dead boar and two dead sows and had already thrown them in the pickup. The dog's owner had buried what was left of the dog that was killed, wasn't much left though. By then the Sun was going down and the three men left to drop the hogs off at the slaughterhouse. The sows went just a little over 250 pounds on the hoof and boar went better than 350 pounds. Not large for domestic pigs but pretty good for feral hogs. After dropping the dogs off at the local vet’s, the men also spent the rest of the evening in the local bar reliving "their" adventure. I did hear later my father kept bragging about his "hard riding and straight shooting boy". I showed mother where the last shootout had taken place and managed to find two of the 30-30 cases where I had shot the boar and last sow. On the way back to the house mother had let me have another "snort" and I settled down even more. I went to the barn and curried my horse and gave her an extra bowl of oats. Every boy should grow up with such a horse, such a rifle and such adventures. Later at the house, as I was cleaning my M94, I figured this "big game" huntin' was pretty dad burned exciting and perhaps just the thing I always wanted to do. And so, it has been…….
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