Chasing chital: A week of heat, stalking and stags in Queensland

After my good mate Tobias and his son had to pull out late from our hunting plans, replacements were found in short notice: rifle hunter Matt and bowhunter Dusto.

The day before leaving, the property owner informed me the local professional hunter had also booked the property… so the property was now double booked! A further challenge would be the weather – temperature predictions had the thermometer rising well above 40C.

After discussing our dilemma with the pro hunter, who has a vast understanding of the workings of deer in the area, he made it clear he would operate from one small section, and we could have the rest. Plus, he would only be there for two days – we had booked for seven.

Twelve hours of driving certainly tests the average Joe’s dedication to hunting. Out of the six hunters, I was the only one who had previously hunted the property – and four out of the group hadn’t hunted chital at all. Though I understood some of the challenges about to unfold, I had only hunted this property once before.

Dusto and Matt had driven nonstop through the night and were happy riding shanks’ ponies again. Ben, James, Paulie and I overnighted in Rockhampton, then drove to the property, feeling fresh and hoping our trip would render us some venison. We had stopped to hire a cool room for the week.

Our first hunt was more a familiarisation of the property, with all six of us approaching the large swamp and grasslands that dominated the landscape. As we neared the edge of the riverine forest, you could almost hear the hunters’ jaws drop – out in front of us were approximately 300 chital deer.

Mixed in with the herd were about as many wallabies, which others would learn, could be our nemesis. The wallabies act as an early warning system for the deer.

Stags were calling while moving around, looking for hot does or fending off challengers. The herd seemed to be in a state of perpetual motion, spread over an area approximately 600m². Every now and then, a hind would call, or a fawn – that had nervously left its mother for a frolic – would suddenly dart back to her safety. Stags were plentiful but protected by standing in the middle of each group, preventing a shot for fear of hitting the wrong deer.

Matt was to be the first hunter off the rank. He had spotted a stag ahead of the pack in size. Consensus had him close to 30“. The problem was that the stag was over 200m away, with no trees for at least 600m. Also, the bellyache weed was 1m high, making it difficult – or nigh on impossible – to shoot from the prone position. The land did undulate, so ground could be stolen if the hunter was prepared to crawl to close the gap.

Matt and Dusto began the painstaking stalk, crawling slowly while the rest of us watched. Whoever thinks hunting isn’t a spectator sport needs to watch two hunters close the gap on an unsuspecting prey. To say it was mesmerising is an understatement. We watched as a 6’3“ Matt and 6’2“ Dusto put on a masterclass of avoidance – stealing 100m while gaining positional height, in pursuit of the stag.

Every now and then, Matt would drop to the prone position, only to have his prey take a step or two and vanish behind the head of a bellyache bush.

Time was now of the essence. The sun was setting, casting its golden hue over the landscape, yet stag movement or bellyache impeded a clear shot.

With only minutes of shootable light left, a well-placed shot rang out, bringing the hunt to its finale.

Matt had just completed his Australian Grand Slam of deer (taking each of the six species). In doing so, he provided us observers with great entertainment.

We all moved over to the now very dead stag to help with the photo session. What a splendid way to start the hunt. Ben fetched his truck, making meat retrieval easier. We loaded the stag and headed for the cool room. We arrived back at camp well after dark.

The following morning, we rose before daybreak, heading to our designated hunting areas. Dusto and Matt were the first to be dropped into position, followed by Paulie and me. Benny and James (father-and-son-in-laws) would drive to their hunting zone. We were all separated by large areas of bush, and direction, for safety.

The area Paulie and I had been assigned was close to the back of the swamp, with an extremely open grass feeding area in front of us and the wind blowing into our faces. Arriving early – knowing the deer would start feeding out around 3pm – gave each group a chance to scout their own area for the best vantage point.

Paulie and I had drifted down to the water’s edge and saw, on the opposite side, deer feeding toward the water. Among them was a nice young stag with plenty of potential, but probably not a shooter. After assessing him, we headed back to our hunting position to begin the wait.

Once we found what we considered the best position to watch and judge from, we sat back in the heat and enjoyed the wait.

Within an hour, we were seeing deer – mostly hinds, with the occasional stag thrown in just to whet our appetite. But by now, the does were getting restless and seemingly appeared everywhere, moving in small but nervous groups of three or four.

I had my camera out, taking some great shots. I was lining up on a small stag for photo session when the silence of the bush erupted with the sound of a rifle shot – Benny had just missed his first stag. The echoes carried through the property, and unseen deer exploded from cover for safer ground.

The sound of a shot didn’t disturb all deer. Chital, being highly strung, will bolt when they see another animal running – regardless of whether they hear the shot or not. Proof of this was when a wallaby sprinted to cover, and the deer followed. It seems that if anything happens in a hurry, chital run.

As Benny shot, poor Dusto – with his bow – was lining up on a stag. Of course, Dusto was left in the dust of a smartly departing deer, while his arrow sat lifeless on its rest. One of the obstacles our bowhunting friends face when hunting alongside rifle hunters.

Paulie and I could only watch as the deer we were observing disappeared into the bush. Funnily enough, within 10 or so minutes, deer began to reappear – this time with more stags. We had a good mob of deer in front of us when Paulie gave his sambar deer whistle a tweak. Deer began trotting in his direction.

With camera in hand, I merrily clicked away. Paulie suddenly whispered, “Look.” As my eye cautiously left the viewfinder, a young hind had come trotting in to about 5m, staring at the odd shape – a man with camera in the bush. Unsure of what she had seen, she retreated 20m, then turned back to reassess. The young stags were also intrigued by the sound.

With all this excitement, we got back to the hunt. We were literally surrounded by mobs of deer – each with one or more stags, but nothing we thought a shooter. As daylight began fading, I happened to glance down a laneway toward the grassy plain and spotted a sizeable stag heading our way.

Trying to judge the stag’s antler height in relationship to its shoulder was difficult as it beelined toward the small herd of does. Only when it paused to nibble did I get a good look at the antlers’ length.

The more Paulie and I looked, the larger the antlers seemed. Whispering, we reviewed what we’d been taught about judging chital on the hoof. We came to a similar conclusion: this was a shooter.

Paulie declined, so I lined up on the deer, unleashing a dose of copper poisoning – dropping it where it stood.

As we walked over to the deer, the animal’s body size became clear – its diminutive frame exaggerated the antler size. I had just been dealt a fair slice of ground shrinkage. Never one to cry over spilt milk, I quickly caped and quartered the deer, prepping it for Benny’s pickup.

As we waited, another shot rang out from Benny and James’ direction. When Benny arrived, he had a great trophy stag on board. We loaded mine alongside his and headed to the bowhunters.

When we arrived, Dusto informed us that on all three occasions shots rang out, he had been ready to release an arrow – only for the deer to disappear just in time. Fortunately, he persisted and eventually took a solid stag without interruption from rifle fire.

The following day, James, Benny and I hunted the open flood plain, with deer spread out and wallabies close by. James made a great shot at 240m, dropping a nice stag – ensuring we all went home with full freezers and worthy trophies.