Dawn

5:30am: I pick my way across the meadow and follow the soft circle from my headlamp on the trail between some trees. In the dark it looks like I am entering into the earth itself. I step over fallen trees and branches, the damp sticks and leaves are generously quiet. I find my way to a lowland meadow. It’s not the one I had scouted weeks ago, I overshot that, but it will do. I can see a good sized clearing in the growing light, and several spots along the edge which afford a clear shot in multiple directions. Most importantly, there is beat down patch of dried mud where trails intersect from every direction. 

Dawn is the drama hour, starting with birds. First a Barred Owl with lungs that sound like they bust be at least as big as mine. When the sky begins to lighten, the choir really begins and it’s hard to single out individuals. The forest floor too, emits sounds of movement. I hear rustling leaves, which could be many things, then the sound of a heavy stick snapping, which could only be a couple things. Something is moving behind me beyond the tree wall. Up to now, I have been in my head, my thoughts as real as anything else in the dark. I review the decisions that led me to this point. Some hunters wear kevlar chaps or gaiters as defence against upward pointing tusks, ground against the upper teeth to razor sharpness. This seemed unnecessary to me because, based on anecdotes from friends and an extensive review of youtube, hogs only attack humans if cornered. Many hog hunters wear a sidearm. Something at least .45 caliber. I am carrying a bow and arrow, and on my hip is a knife with a five inch blade. If I am charged, and I can’t get to a tree, neither of these will come into play. I suppose I’ll dance around and try to keep from going down.

I was charged a couple weeks ago when a juvenile was sprinting to catch up with its sounder which I had spooked as it crossed this meadow. When a sounder spooks, some run straight ahead and some cut left or right. This one cut left and headed straight to me. It figured out what I was about ten yards away and turned off to follow its family. I shot and missed. It’s hard to believe how fast they go.

I can walk and creep around all day and see nothing but pig sign, but if I stand still at dawn in the right spot, they seem to form in the bushes like zombies generating in Minecraft when you dig at night. Standing still at dawn with the tide of sound and smell rising around me is the most exciting thing I know of in hunting. Everything is being born, every solid, real thing that will exist during the day is forming in the the low clouds that rake the trees and linger on the meadow.