THE LAST GIANT HOG

A few days ago Afrikaander reported a new Argentine record for wild boar, which we thought could be impossible to beat. Much to my astonishment, I saw in a recent magazine the tale of a another hunt ending in last May where a boar sporting tusks of 30.2 centimeters in length was shot. I don´t know if this monster will be presented to official measurement and how it will stand against the aforementioned new record, which belongs to Mr. Gustavo Sappa.
Nevertheless, the story related by Mr. Roberto Vincet, a lifelong hunter, is a very interesting one and an example for many of us, perhaps too softed by our city lives.
The following could be considered a song to the cunning and elusiveness of a great old boar and to the patience, endurance and knowledge of two true sportsmen. It ends with glory and, perhaps, some sadness and eventually a farewell to the hunt.
Vincet is a hunter since he can remember but his true love is the pursuit of hogs. The landowner of a prime area near Santa Isabel, in the North of La Pampa Province in Argentina, he hunted them with hounds and knive, with a gun from a blind, stalking or in any other possible way. As per his own words, there are big and strong hogs, fighter and proud hogs, but all of them own a natural instinct for keeping their hides safe.
For him the field, with its trees, soil and waterholes, is actually a great book which he learned to read only after many years. Everywhere the beasts leave signals and tracks which equal maps for a trained eye.
All his life he´ve been a passionated hunter but always had an inmense respect for his prey and learned from it.
When the past month of March was ending, one of his neighbors reached the main premises to warn against a wild boar who was killing goats. This was bad news, because a hog able to do that couldn´t be ignored.
Early the following morning, Roberto and Ramón, a close friend and hunting partner, tried to locate the tracks. After several kilometers they found what was looking for. Against all logic, the tracks were small. A greenhorn could easily be dissapointed, but not these experts. Years of tracking teached them that sometimes the biggest trophies have small “feetâ€. To this they added the strange behaviour with goats and reckoned that they were dealing with something very big.
Afterwards, they heard from other folks that the same boar was already famous due to his bad deeds. Not only was he responsible for the early demise of several dozens of goats but he also killed a couple of fighting dogs (dogos) who dared to stand before his tusks. Due to this, the hunters decided against using their pack, not wanting to put them in jeopardy.
They agreed that the best procedure should be to look for the places where the animal crossed the fences and wait there with a ready gun. For a whole week they tried to find fresh sign again. They wanted to learn every thing the killer did, which waterholes he visited and every branch broken, that´s to say, how he moved in the field and his “thoughtsâ€. The findings surprised them in a previously unknown way. The animal used every day a different trail and never returned to his killings.
They tried to lure him with dead goats, but he never even neared the baits.
All this confirmed them that they were pursuing an old boar with a whale of an experience, thus they nicknamed the jabalí “El Viejo†(The Old One). After a month of long and silent walks they found several of his resting places. With no exception, El Viejo looked for the deepest vegetation, exceedingly thick. It was seldom possible to see more than a few meters ahead and the jumble of undergrowth consisted of thorns and spikes of every description, a vegetal nightmare. This boar never used for consecutive days the same hiding place.
Be that as it may, the truth was that time continued running and they didn´t even see him. One of these mornings they were tired of walking when suddenly a dead goat appeared in their way, filling their hearts with hope. Looking at the corpse, they observed that it was almost completely eaten, diminishing the chances of finding the killer in the neighborhood. Nonetheless they improvised a blind roughly 50 meters away, but nothing happened during the whole night and following this episode, like swallowed by Mother Earth, the boar dissapeared. Only after 10 long days they had fresh news.
They cut his path again some kilometers away from his last attack, it was only the signal of a brief passing but useful for keeping alive their tireless search.
May the 24th brougth and end to almost 2 months of hunting. This time the dead goat was over short and flat grass and they guessed that only a few hours had passed since its death. Furthermore, the body was almost whole and then and there they were sure that the hog was very near and with the night they will see each other´s faces.
Making the slightest possible noise they made a blind, again 50 or 60 meters away from the killing. Due to the lack of a full moon, there was a poor light, but they knew that their chance was then or perhaps never. At 06.00 P.M. they seated in the blind.
Minutes and hours followed without any signal. They remained with their eyes locked in the obscure woods but nothing moved the branches and the whole land was deeply silent. The thermometer registered minus 8º Celsius the previous night and this one was fully its equal. Even with warm clothing they could see their breath vaporizing under a sky full of bright stars.
Now and then they turned their heads for looking at each other. They were nearly frozen but kept their place and silence. The first four hours were endless but the next three fled.
At last, they heard a soft sound between some bushes. The noise came from a dark corner nearing the bait. Desperated, Roberto looked in the dark without finding a thing. Ramón was at his left and had a better view thus he informed him that he was looking at the boar.
Vincet remained quiet like a statue because, sooner or later, the beast will appear in the scope. After some seconds his eyes could see him approaching the goat and beginning to eat. He looked confident and sure of himself.
It´s impossible to forget such moments, which are short but live forever in the hunter´s mind. Tons of adrenalin generated by the situation can boycott the last steps, but he tried to be calm. He was almost frozen and the icy dew whitened the surrounding grass. Anyway, he could recover and a fraction of a second after a bullet perforated the boar´s shoulder and broke the spine.
With some sadness, Vincet approached the fallen monarch for the coup de grace and thought that perhaps this was his last hunt. He had many gold medals at home due to record hogs, but nothing like this.
In fact, taking into account that a boar with tusks measuring 25 centimeters means a gold medal, this is an almost unbelievable beast, a sort of Kilimanjaro elephant between hogs.
Well, the next moon looks promising, but the weather is extremely cold, snowing since some days ago and I guess in an open blind there should be minus 15º Celsius. This notwithstanding.....

Nice story Ricardo !

The zone around Santa Isabel is one of my favourites... the best hogs and stags (speaking of purely wild animals) had gone there, mainly looking for the safety of a very inhospitable place ... sadly you need a lot of time to hunt there (wish I could ever have two full months to spend hunting !!!)

In fact all along the river Atuel is a hell of a hunting zone, only wish to have the needed time to enjoy that zone in its whole magnificence, not just my usually three nights per trip !!

Very nice story - is there any picture to accompany the writing? Would be appreciated.

Ahhhhhhhhh, nice story my friend !!!

The nights are getting colder and colder !!!
Two years ago in La Pampa I spent the whole night climbed in a tree (open blind) with minus 11°C !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Those two hunters deserved such a noble animal.

L

Here is a very bad picture of the giant hog and another enormous trophy which Vincet got with his dogs. I may add that he also killed an outstanding boar with 26.7 centimeters of tusks between his gold medals.
http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v463/nainital/?action...current=IMG_0916.jpg

That's not a pig... That's a wooly Mammouth!!

What a Critter. Thanks for posting such a great story.

FB

Richard as always does entertain and informed us with the latest news thank you my friend.Juan