Sambar, missed shots and a hard-earned lesson

If you’ve ever gone on a long-awaited sambar hunt, or any deer hunt for that matter, and didn’t score a deer, within easy shooting distance, no matter how hard you tried, don’t be disparaged. It can happen to the best of us, as it did with me. There was some consolation at the end, however, to restore confidence in my hunting ability.

Since a hunt with reputable outfitter and guide Dean Williams years earlier, apart from guiding hunters locally and in New Zealand, Dean had moved location. This brought him close to the alpine deer hunting grounds, where he established Murray Valley Taxidermy & Tanning to complement his guiding services.

So, when he made contact about an opening early the following month for a two-day sambar hunt, there was no hesitation to accept. A meat animal or two would be nice but a representative stag would make the trip even more memorable, as I was yet to score one. Dean certainly chose a picturesque location in the ranges of northeastern Victoria for his home and workplace. Situated on the fringe of a pine plantation with views of undulating pastures and distant forested hills, the landscape lends itself to ideal deer habitat. The mild spring weather and rain also had the countryside looking lush and green, with cows calving in the region. Arriving just after midday with my mate Alex, everything looked so promising that it was hard to contain my eagerness for a morning hunt.

Out in the sticks
While our expectation was for an early stalk the next morning, Dean suggested that as we had unpacked our gear and set up in the sleeping quarters, we might try for a late afternoon hunt on a nearby property for a fallow or sambar hind. As the sun started to drop low above the hilltops, a small group of fallow deer fled a short distance before stopping ever so briefly 120m behind a stand of tightly spaced saplings. This gave me a few seconds to take a quick offhand shot with my Sako A111 .30-06 Spg. It was a clear miss as the group continued up the scrubbed hill and out of sight. Not a good start I thought to myself, questioning how I had missed.

A brief time later, I experienced a similar episode, only this time it was a sambar spiker at no more than 80m with its chest section in clear view. I had no explanation. At that point and in fairness to Alex, I suggested he take the next opportunity. We negotiated dirt tracks in Dean’s Polaris Ranger buggy, periodically stopping to glass the edges of forests and gullies from the hilltops. No deer were sighted but we heard the distant unnerving howls of wild dogs, a real threat to livestock, especially with the calving cows. The farmer had shot a wild dog near a dead cow only the day before.

Early morning hunt
At first light we were on our way to another private property Dean has sole access and shooting rights to. The farmer wanted deer culled as they were grazing on livestock pasture, along with any preying wild dogs.

Using the Polaris to cross hills and ford shallow creeks, we penetrated deep into forested areas where we expected to find deer or at least improve our chances. On foot we were honked on a few occasions. One particularly loud, deep-throated honking indicated a potentially large dominant stag nearby. Even when stalking quietly in line formation down-wind, their sharp eyesight can detect a human from considerable distance while they stand motionless like statues behind sparse cover. In those situations, only a tracking dog with a keen sense of smell can detect their presence. The sambar deer, with a reputation of being one of the smartest and hardest to hunt, had eluded us all day.

The afternoon was much of the same, glassing from hilltops, noting fresh tree rubs and tracks around frequented creeks and muddy ground. They were obviously about but it would take more stalking and persistence to find them. Apart from shouldering our own rifles that afternoon, Dean brought along his thermal monocular and Howa .300WM mounted with a thermal scope. If we were unsuccessful during the day, we could hunt into the night. When sighting-in the rifle at 100m, groups were incredibly accurate. Any miss would be on the shooter.

Thermal by night
Nightfall was upon us and a good hour had passed before Dean made a thermal sighting on the fringe of the forest. Leaving the Polaris and guided by the vision in his monocular, we slowly moved forward over even ground to get closer for an ethical clean shot.

At 70m I used the Trigger Stick bipod to steady the .300WM. The Sambar hind was standing side on when I squeezed the trigger of the Howa, sending a 150gr Winchester just behind the shoulder. I missed again as the white shape disappeared into the thicket behind. What was going on with my shooting? I had no excuse except to put it down to the greater stock recoil than my .30-06 Spg, off the bipod I wasn’t used to. Noticing my disappointment, Dean offered encouragement and recommended not dwelling on it too much, as there will other opportunities.

The night was calm as the occasional hind started to venture out of the forest to graze on the flats. They were aware of our presence but remained unperturbed, as if we couldn’t see them. A short time after, two hinds stood side by side with heads raised and looking front on directly at us. Through the darkness we again neared within range. The bipod went up, resting the rifle neatly in the cradle. I took a deep breath and steadied the cross-hairs on the chest of the larger of the two. With the echoing crack of the rifle, I thought I saw the white body slump to the ground, but Dean indicated I’d missed. I could have sworn it fell, and it was the hind alongside that took off. However, he seemed right. Despite our search with the torches, disappointingly there was no deer or blood sign anywhere. I remarked to Dean I was a veteran hunter, buck fever wasn’t an issue and my accuracy was normally better than that.

Time for a better shooter
It was time to suck it up and give Alex a go. By now it was 9pm, with intermittent rain falling and limiting visibility. We were making our way back down a gradual slope when two dark bodied animals flashed in front of us. As I was trying to fathom what I had glimpsed, Dean, being more familiar with the shapes, pressed for the unloaded .300WM rifle I was holding. Out of the vehicle he aimed in the direction the animals had fled, at the same time chambering a round in readiness.

Familiar with their behaviour, sure enough he spotted a young stag through the thermal scope at 70m looking in our direction. With the shot fired, we heard the thud of the bullet hitting home. As we approached in the buggy, the rain started to pick up and the coldness of the night set in. Dean quickly gutted the young stag and with our help turned it onto its belly to drain the blood for recovery at first light.

The night improved
It turned out to be an even more favourable night. Reaching the lower section of a hill and not far from the old homestead where we would be bedded for the night, Dean spotted a young stag. This provided Alex with the opportunity for the meat animal he was after. Using the sticks, he scored with a one-shot kill, dropping the spiker on the spot. It was time to get dirty and remove the innards. By the time the task was completed, I was exhausted and properly drenched, but the successful night’s hunting kept spirits high. It would also be similarly recovered in the morning.

At the house, a hot cuppa and snack had us settled. The jackets and any wet clothing were hung up to dry and our gear prepared for the morning. We fell into a deep slumber, tired but satisfied.

Meat recovery
The first young stag, estimated at three years old, was too heavy to lift so Dean cut the animal into halves for loading onto the back of the buggy. The spiker was much lighter so were able to lift it whole. From there the buggy and deer were loaded onto a tandem trailer and hauled to Dean’s place, where the deer were quartered and cut in sanitised conditions for stowing away in the fridge and freezer.

Wrap-up
Trips are never the same or the way you expect them to turn out for any number of reasons, despite your meticulous preparation and planning. I’ve always professed that a good trip is a safe one enjoyed with mates.

With me adamant I’d hit the second hind at night, Dean went out to the place for an expanded look and found it dead a short distance away, restoring my confidence. I also found the screws on my scope needed tightening, proving that it pays to sight-in a rifle at every opportunity. A bump during travel or even recoil vibrations can loosen parts and affect accuracy. It was a great trip nevertheless and I look forward to the next.