Early Bow season in Southwest Mississippi is a balmy, hot affair. If a fellow wants to hunt the swamps, one must deal with mosquitoes, knats, deer flies, spiders, ticks, red bugs, cotton mouth moccasins, rattle snakes, copperheads, alligators and leeches, just to name a few. Thus it was several years ago that I found myself early one evening in a hide along the banks of the Homochitto river. It is an unusual river. Dominated by high banks and sandbars that give way to thick swamp, the Homochitto snakes its way through several southern counties to empty into the Mississippi just a few miles from my location. 60-100 yards across in most spots, it ranges from shallow sandy bottom where you can wade across without getting your knees wet, to dark, swirling pools as deep as 30 feet. It's reputation is that of a killer, and rightly so, for I cannot easily count the lives lost to it over the years. I was raised on the river, swimming, fishing, hand grabbing and hunting. For us it was not something to be feared, just understood and respected. Most of its victims are inexperienced or weak swimmers lured into the inviting shallows and then swept into deep water by the deceptively strong currents. To approach my hide, I had come in several hundred yards up stream, slipped quietly into the water and drifted down with the current. I then slipped up the bank and into my hide. While this results in being wet, it also results in a very quiet, scent free entry without disturbing the area. You will be wet either way. Better to be wet from river water than sweat. Just have to be careful of your feathers, but it's not hard to keep them and you bow above water. My view was a wash, a thin, narrow, sandy place where high water and current had cleared a lane during last years flood. About 70 yards long and 10 yards wide, knee high broom straw now grew in the wash. My hide was a clump of willow trees on a small mound between the river and the wash. The river at my back, and thick swamp across the wash, one might wonder why a hunter would choose such a place covered with nothing but in-edible broom straw? Simple, it's a funnel and the easiest way for an animal to travel from the safety of the bedding cover to the rich crop fields a few hundred yards up river. And travel it they did! That wash was a veritable interstate of the swamp. Interestingly enough, the whole pallet and landscape, or swampscape if you prefer, will have changed by the next year. This whole area is in flux from year to year due to flooding. The wash may be under 10 feet of sand and the river channel 200 yards from where it is now. It was about 4 pm by the time I settled in and the parade started almost immediately. I could see the deer making its way up the wash. It was a yearling, no spots. Could I be so lucky as to have a yearling doe come by? I could already taste the fresh, tender backstrap! Upon closer inspection, the little knots indicating a button buck were clearly visible. Oh well, I never tire of watching deer and this was a good opportunity to sharpen the Indian. As he worked his way past at about 12 yards, I came to full draw and held, focused on a small area behind his shoulder. I held a few seconds and eased the bow down when his head was in the broom straw. I smiled to myself and the little buck went his way, none the wiser. An otter appeared a few yards away in the river, frolicking and just generally doing what otters do. I so love watching them. A family of coons came next. One came right up in the hide within feet of me. It was an older sow and she quickly noticed something amiss, namely some joker hiding in there with a sharp stick. She un ceremoniously gathered her clan and spirited them away from that lowlife. An hour passed. I could hear my uncle Buds 4wheeler in the crop fields a few hundred yards away. I could soon hear him begin beating and banging on something. I love my uncle Bud, but a more mechanically un inclined person has never lived. A smile crossed my lips, I did not know what he was doing, but I did know he doing it wrong. I was still pondering what Bud was tearing up, and I'd ultimately have to fix, when a broken stick back in the thick brush jarred me to attention. I strained my ears for more clues. It was skirting the wash, staying in the heavy brush. This went on for some time, only the slightest noises. Deer sound like this, mature deer. I don't know how he got there, but he was just suddenly, there. 30 yards down by the end of the wash stood Goliath!!! I could scarcely believe my eyes, it had now been over a year since anyone had seen him or gotten a picture on trail cams. I figured old age had claimed him. My excitement was soon tempered by a sad reality. He had skirted the wash, staying out of sight and going the opposite direction of the deer and coons. He was past me, out of range and headed away from me. Instead of traveling from the bedding area to the crop fields, he was going into the bedding area. Figures! Goliath had been making a monkeys backside out of me for three years now! He had an arrogant, confident swagger like he was un touchable and king of the swamp. Right about then, I tended to think maybe he was!..... to be continued.
Great story and good luck hunting Goliath!
Not related to this hunt, but this pic was taken in the field where Bud was beating on the old tractor a few hundred yards upstream of my location. I included this photo to give the reader an idea of the landscape and character of the Homochitto river. (http://i.imgur.com/BKUoGym.jpg)
Beautiful picture
Another pic of river I found. (http://i.imgur.com/2jF1aUZ.jpg)
Lol, I tried, when it posted, it converted to what you see.
"try using paragraphs" HAHA!!
I hope you get to meet him face to face!
I look forward to more story!
Someone must have deleted the english teachers grade :laughing: :nono:
Great beginning to the adventure!
Really am enjoying this so far! keep it coming! Reminds me of growing up around the Congaree River here in Columbia.
I am looking forward to the rest of the story!
Old boar hogs, much like old men, often grow more eccentric with age. Goliath was a case study in this theory. He did his own thing, in his own way, in his own time. He acted more like an old, mature buck than a hog. My uncle Bud actually gave him the name Goliath about three years prior. We were way back in the swamp looking for a lost calf. It was late morning. As we passed a greenbrier thicket, a sow and several piglets exploded from right under us. This was a startling experience, and the sow actually made a bluff charge. Now I knew she was bluffing to give the piglets a chance to escape. Bud did not. It was a most interesting little scene. They were about 10 yards apart. Two bluffers, one didn't want to fight, the other one glad of it. The sow was nervously standing her ground, hackles up and grunting feverishly. I'm still not real sure what uncle Bud was doing. Uncle Bud at this time was about 6'5, 250lbs and in his late 60s. He had one foot outstretched in front of him, the other outstretched behind him. His torso was twisted to squarely face the sow, both arms raised above his head in a clawing motion and he was hollering Hhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! at the sow. This went on a few seconds before the sow broke the stalemate by wheeling around and retreating. She disappeared like common sense at the dept. of motor vehicles. We walked on about another 400 yards to the edge of a field, and there he was, just easing back into the woods about 80 yards across the field. He was enormous, old, and had his unique swagger even back then. Being a listed hog, he was mostly tan with black spots. Bud looked at me and said, "that was one Goliath hog!" For the next 2 years I was after that hog. I saw him only a couple of other times and he would turn up on trail cameras now and then. Then he just disappeared....... Until now!
:campfire:
Sitting here drinking :coffee: waiting for more
Loving it so far, these stories are a lot of fun. Thanks for sharing.
Steve Jr
I was rattled... and that's just all there is to it. The appearance of Goliath had transformed a simple sit in the hide to something completely different. My mouth was dry, my heart was racing. I wanted that pig! He was right there, out of sight now, but I knew he was still just 50 or so yards away. I sat there contemplating the next move. Part of me wanted to stay in the hide and hope he came back through. Part of me wanted to circle around and get in front of him. He knew the swamp like the back of his hand, or hoof. I did too though, and that is ultimately why I left the hide, eased to the edge of the water and ran down the sandy edge about 200 yards and hastily set up under a willow with low hanging branches. After some thought back in he blind, I concluded that he was likely headed down river about 300 yards to a wide, shallow spot to cross the river. The banks here were gentle and it was only a few inches deep all the way across. I knew the place well. The many tracks there indicated it was the preferred place to cross in this area for wildlife. He was not alarmed, so I was fairy confident that I was in front of him. My biggest concern now was darkness. The shadows were growing long. Goliath was headed my way. Question was, would he appear before it got too dark to shoot?
Whatcha do, Whatcha do, ah???? :eek:
Now you will have to ignore the deer and the boat, they are not related to this story. This is however, the place where critters like to cross the river and where Goliath was headed. This pic was taken a few years after this story took place, but it's still similar to how it looked then. (http://i.imgur.com/x3Zqy3P.jpg)
Did he get past before I got here? Did I spook him trying to get in front of him? Did he not come this way at all? Was he right at this very moment, out in front of the blind I had just abandoned frolicking and laughing at me? These are the doubts that were filling my head as the last rays of light were quickly fading. Did I have time to get back to the blind? No, too late for second guessing now. This was the hand I'd chosen to play. It soon became that time of evening where day gave way to night and the deepening shadows turned every stump and clump of brush into the hog I so desperately wanted them to be. It got dark. I stayed there heartbroken and out of sheer desperation. I could still barely see a little place right in front of me that was a tiny wash. Ten minutes went by. The tiny wash was still somewhat visible because of its light color. I had reluctantly decided to ease out. I had took account of all my gear and slipped my small, red lensed flashlight into my hand. I took one more desperate look around before I stood up and slipped out. Had that large dark clump in the corner of the wash been there before? I stared at it for a long minute. I had just about decided it was nothing, then the clump moved.
What an emotional roller coaster hunting can be. In a matter of seconds, one can go to from a numb dejection, to a heightened sense of awareness and excitement where time almost seems to stand still. Despite my emotional rollercoaster, make no mistake, I was all business. My whole world was that huge, dark blob 15 yards away and swaggering towards me. This was my chance and I was going to make the most of it. Now I'm a fanatical spot picker. All through the day I'm picking spots on everyone and everything around me. It was too dark to pick spots. As he swaggered by at 10 yards, all I could see was a dark form against the lighter wash. I came to full draw naturally and despite the darkness, my subconscious gave my brain the ok and the string slipped from my fingers. The heavy arrow flashed across the small distance between us. I could not see it, but heard it slice into the pig. Goliath let out a guttural HUH! It sounds almost like a cough. Now being fluent in hog, I understood what he had said. Loosely translated, it means, "What the heck!!!". Goliath had lurched forward toward the river and disappeared into the thick willows at the edge of the sandbar. I excitedly jumped up and raced to where he had disappeared, hoping to see him crossing the open sandbar and river. The lighting here was far less dark than back in the thickets and I could see the whole 200 hundred yards across the sandbar and river. To my surprise, there was no sign of Goliath. My excitement mounted! There's no way he had got across that fast. He had to be dead somewhere right close by! I was soon to discover that Goliath was indeed right close by, but far from dead.
it's been too long since we had a story like this. :campfire: :coffee:
Uh oh
Hogs are very smart animals. They are one of the few wild animals that I believe have the ability to understand the concept of revenge. Back when we caught pigs with dogs, we built a very sturdy 1/2 acre hog pen for dog training. We caught this one boar about 250 lbs and rank as they come. Uncle Bud had aggravated that hog quite a bit before we released him into the pen. That boar despised Bud with a special passion. Other people could walk to the fence and he'd back into a corner and glare at them. If Bud walked up, he'd start violently charging the fence. That hog would have weaved between other men, just to get to Bud. By the time this story took place, I had caught hundreds of hogs, killed many with traditional bows and generally fooled with them for many years. I had been cut, run over and charged by numerous hogs. I can honestly say no hog had ever really scared me. When I first heard Goliath rustle the brush a few feet to my right in the willows, I was concerned, but not really scared. I froze and slowly turned my head. As I peered into the shadows, I could see him lying there on his belly with his legs under him. I was relieved. I thought he was down and dying. A very cold shiver ran down my spine when he rose to his feet, squared himself to me and began popping his teeth. He was just feet away and glaring at me like I owed him some money. For the first time in my life, I was really scared of a hog. If he would have just charged, I don't think it would have been as scary. It was the suspense and having the time to think about the fix I was in. I stood utterly still. There was nowhere to go. We were right on the banks of the river, the water only a few feet across a small strip of sand. But it was shallow and would do me no good. If there were deep water near, I'd have went for it. Hogs need their feet under them to really be dangerous, and deep water works against them. There was a small willow to my left that might get me 4 feet off the ground. That's actually high enough if I could get to it, and my only real option. I had another arrow nocked and my fingers on the string. I did not think about doing this, it was all just instinct and habit. I expected a charge. It did not come. My memory of what I did next is strange, it's almost like someone else was doing it and I was watching. Yes, I was scared, but still all business. I drew and released in one quick motion, the heavy arrow slipped right under his nose and buried in his chest. He came for me immediately.
i'm sure it's against forum rules to leave people in such suspense :readit:
QuoteOriginally posted by ozy clint:
i'm sure it's against forum rules to leave people in such suspense :readit:
Lol, not intentional my friend. I'm actually trying to finish before I go back overseas for 10 days. Here's a pic of the swamp where Bud and the sow had their stand off and near where we first saw Goliath. It is over a mile upriver from where we are currently in the story. (http://i.imgur.com/OCIAr53.jpg)
What a great story so far! Thanks for sharing. Looking forward to the rest of the story.....and pictures.
:readit:
Fear is an interesting emotion. It can only exist in two places. The anticipation before an event occurs, and the reflection of an event that has already occurred. It cannot exist in the event itself. This is not to say that some people cannot get so paralyzed with fear that they fail to even react to the event at all. When I let slip that second arrow, the event began and my fear was gone. It was replaced by a delicious excitement and focus that is hard to explain. Time does seem to slow. Memories of these situations are vivid. Even now as I write this, years later, my pulse quickens at the memories and powerful emotions rise within me. As soon as that second arrow struck home, I was already tossing the Thunderchild aside and making a break for the willow. It would be a very close race...... or so I thought.
:campfire:
Was it a vine? A root? Cypress knee maybe? To this day, I still don't know what tripped me. I lunged forward trying not to fall, but went down hard on my belly. Goliath was on me instantly. A searing pain shot through the calf of my left leg followed closely by another near my left shoulder blade. I had instinctively turned my head to look back. Out of the corner of my eye, the sight of his gaping mouth and cutters appeared. His slimy, bloody snout hit me squarely on the temple like a punch. The momentum of the charge carried him past me a few feet, and by the grace of God, over a small sand shelf at the edge of the sandbar. These shelves are the result of water fluctuations and can be a few inches, or several feet tall. This one had about 2 feet of drop, just enough that Goliath could not easily get back up it. It ran parallel to the river for some distance. Goliath had ran right over me. In the process, he had stepped on my calf muscle and on my back. He tried to bite me in the face as he went over me, but thankfully, his snout had knocked my head out of the way of his cutters. I was still on my belly, hands under me in the cool sand like I was about to do push ups. Goliath was a few feet away, facing me, and grinding his cutters in frustration. He seemed to know he could not get back up the shelf as he only made one feeble attempt at it. The two arrows buried in his massive chest were also beginning to take their toll. He seemed to lose interest in me after a bit, and wandered a few yards out on the sandbar. I noticed his legs were beginning to get wobbly. His rump collapsed first, and he just sat there for a while. That old hog sure made for a haunting sight sitting out on the sandbar like that. The majesty of the area and the glistening water conspired to create a scene that my minds eye will never forget. He then fell over on his side and began his death throes. I just laid there at the edge of the river, bathed in moonlight and too mesmerized to move, and watched Goliath die.
I slowly regained my feet and collected my beloved Thunderchild from the brush. She is a true friend and has a bloody spirit. I believe she was angry with me for so callously tossing her into the brush. I then collected my gear from the darkness of the swamp. It was not until I turned on my flashlight that I realized how badly my hands were shaking. The event now over, fear had returned. The emotions I felt walking up on Goliath are hard for me to describe, and may be hard for you to understand. Fear, accomplishment, happiness, respect and thankfulness flowed through me. There was something else however. Something many folks I've told have been unable to understand. Being my brothers and sisters from the traditional world, I believe most of you will understand what I'm going to attempt to describe. The strange emotion of which I speak, was a profound sense of loss. It slapped me in face like a palpable thing. Somehow, the swamp was a smaller and less magical place. I myself, somehow felt diminished by the death of Goliath.
Swinestalker, you have a talent for writing, what a great story and some wonderful insights and observations. Thank you, I really enjoyed your style of hunting and writing. I agree a few paragraphs would make it easier to read.
Swinestalked, you have a true talent, you leave me wanting more. You make us feel like we were right there with you, amazing story. Keep em coming!!!!
Great story...cant wait to see pics!
Another masterpiece, great story.
Some of you may have figured out that this is the story I eluded to on the first page of "Old Magnolia". This hunt happened back several ago and I have since lost many photos. Luckily, there were a few pics of Goliath that I could find. There is more to this story, but it must stop here for now. I am heading to Israel on a church trip and will not have access to the internet after tonight for about 10 days. When I return, I will polish off a few details of the story. I have read through your many comments and kind words. You folks have no idea how much these mean to me. I truly hope these stories bring you some joy. Just the act of writing these stories brings all the memories and emotions of the hunts back in vivid detail. Photos soon to follow.
(http://i.imgur.com/xaqhm1m.jpg)
(http://i.imgur.com/HoqZCqh.jpg)
(http://i.imgur.com/w2qgs2C.jpg)
Travis,
A tremendous story!
I remember one of the very first post I had seen of your a few years back was of, I believe to be this hog.
You didn't say much about it then just that you felt you had made a "mistake" of rushing in on a wounded hog to soon.
And as I read the last portion of your story and as you described the emotions, I sensed that the absents of "Sadness" or lost was to come and be the most pronounced to finish your story.
I felt it myself, as I read it and sense that the Swamps not as frightful as it once use to be.
The things of Legends have been mixed into the ingredients of your story, Bravo!
Brutha, I got all wrapped up in that! Very well written. That's a pile of sausage and we want to hear your efforts to extract him from the swamp. :clapper:
you got his name right! that is a goliath of a hog.
fantastic story. congrats.
Have a safe and productive trip.
QuoteOriginally posted by Possum Head:
Brutha, I got all wrapped up in that! Very well written. That's a pile of sausage and we want to hear your efforts to extract him from the swamp. :clapper:
Gimme a couple of weeks and I'll tell the story of the recovery, which was an adventure in and of itself.
Sadly, I have no photos of Goliath on the sandbar. I did not carry a cell phone hunting with me back then. While 2 of the photos might appear somewhat sandbar like, they are from behind my shop. In the photo with me in it, I had cleaned myself up a bit and put on a hat. Wish now I'd of took the photos as I was.
I'm back! Been out of touch longer than I expected. I'll begin the recovery story tomorrow hopefully.
:campfire:
Very cool story, thanks for sharing!
WOW!!!....my coffee was really great the last 15 minutes!!!
Congrats!!!!!!!
Great story! That's a giant hog!
What a great story! Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for great telling of a great hunt. It had it all.
Gary
Congrats sir...
,,,Sam,,,
Great story
Now there's a HOG!!!
Great story!
Now THAT is a hunting adventure!
Great story and hog. You are a gifted story teller.
:clapper: :clapper: :clapper: :clapper:
Great story. Thanks for sharing.
Great story... many thanks for sharing
What a great read! And what an awesome animal!
Man oh man what an adventure, felt like i was right there next to ya :campfire:
What a great post. Thank you!
Fantastic and thanks for writing that story. You have a gift for writing and thanks for sharing it
Amazing story! So glad you posted the long version! Glad you had a picture or two of that big old hog... what a beast. Such a different place than I have ever been, thanks for taking us there.
What a great thread Travis. Don't have a clue as to how I'm just now seeing it. Can't wait for more.
Wow!!! Just WOW!!! You sir are a "Wordsmith." :clapper: