beyond
1st May 2006, 08:50
Before I commence this true tale of horrendous nights out
in the wild countryside of our fair country, I need to point
out that I am not a lousy shot.
I love long distance shooting and have studied ballistics, bullet ranges and catridge capabilities. My dead animal count is fairly significant, as
post in the great White Hunter thread will prove.
I once took out a goat at 400 metres while it was leading a group of goats into a gulley with my .270. Have you ever seen what size a goat looks like at 400 metres. My mate said I missed after the round went off and
about half a second later it rolls over dead, with a round
through the ticker. I need to feed you this ego boosting, true
crap to set the pace for the rest of the story. Once three hares
broke cover eighty metres away, one dark night and ran at a ninety
degree angle. I dropped to one knee and using the subsonic .22,
aimed about a half metre in front of each one and dropped all
three with heart shots and three rounds. My brother couldn't
believe it. Now that you know I'm not a bad shot.... Anyway, I
digress. :)
My mate and I were out on a farm near the Waikato river, South of
Tuakau. We both had 24 amp hour batteries that enabled us to shoot
all night, which we often did, even on work nights. My spot is a
pencil beam of 1/2 million candle power which is ideal for
sniping oppossums and bunnies at distance. My mate and I were using
silenced .22 Ruger 10/22 rifles.
It was early winter, cold with a thick mist near the river bed. One
of those eerie nights like they got in the Blair Witch project. We
made our way through the willows and trudged up this steep bank to
higher ground. Behind us lay dozens of dead oppossums that had been
noshing up on succulent TiTree shoots.
I came over the ridge line first and approached a fence surrounding a
huge paddock. A quick wave with the spotlight picked out the
horrendous creature I mentioned earlier.
These round bright, golden, white eyes peered back at me from the gloom.
It was half way across the paddock near a fenceline that lead away from us.
It's ears were flat on it's back and I estimated it's range to be around
120 metres. I cranked up my scope to nine magnification, rested an elbow
on the fence post, aimed and held my breath as I placed the scope
reticule about 600mm above the creatures head. :gob:
In my scope I could now easily see what I was looking at. It was a huge
super bunny. This is no joke. I pulled the trigger and because of
a slight breeze, the bullet sprayed up the dew about 20mm to the right
of the super bunny. It would have been a clean shot if not for the breeze.
I've heard the stories of big game hunters in Africa, getting one chance
to get a round off and if they missed, they were nearly as good as dead.
Well, the super bunny sprang into the air and went into attack mode.
My mate was laughing at my miss, but soon got as worried as me , as the
super bunny closed the distance rather too rapidly for my liking.
I started to panick and Sylvester Stallone style, emptied the remainder
of my clip, all nine rounds, at the advancing monster. When a sub sonic
round, hits a soft cuddly, you hear a sound rather like somone pounding
the crap out of a hard pillow. I heard that noise only once and the super
bunny flinched, but still it came. :bye:
I ejected the empty magazine and slapped in my full second which I keep as
a back up. Just as well I thought, as I cocked the semi auto ready for
round two. My mate and I had an unwritten rule, that if you came across
a furry cuddly and spotted it first, it was your shot. If you miss, it's
fair game for all present. He usually gave me the long shots anyway, which
always had me ahead. Anyway, unbelievably, he had opened up while I was
swapping magazines. The dumb super bunny was heading straight towards our spotlights at warp speed. The dew was spraying off the grass all around it as it approached the 25 metres mark. I heard another pillow thump and it
rolled, got to it's feet and kept right on coming. My mate had emptied his
first clip and his second clip was empty from before. I had emptied my
second clip and was frantically reloading the first while he kept the spot
on this frightening apparition. :gob:
It got to the fence line and literally leapt through the wires at us.
I jumped backwards and managed to stomp on it's head with my tramping boot.
Thinking it was all over, the super bunny wriggled to it's feet and made
to do a runner. After tossing thirty rounds of lead at this furry cuddly,
there was no way in this whole wide world it was getting away. My mate and
I chased it, caught up with it and both stomped the crap out of it.
We have struck several of these super beings over the years we have been shooting.
About one in a ten thousand appear impossible to kill. We unloaded
25 rounds, directly into a oppossum at 50 metres, once and it was still
alive.
Next story will be about the super oppossum from hell. :yes:
__________________
in the wild countryside of our fair country, I need to point
out that I am not a lousy shot.
I love long distance shooting and have studied ballistics, bullet ranges and catridge capabilities. My dead animal count is fairly significant, as
post in the great White Hunter thread will prove.
I once took out a goat at 400 metres while it was leading a group of goats into a gulley with my .270. Have you ever seen what size a goat looks like at 400 metres. My mate said I missed after the round went off and
about half a second later it rolls over dead, with a round
through the ticker. I need to feed you this ego boosting, true
crap to set the pace for the rest of the story. Once three hares
broke cover eighty metres away, one dark night and ran at a ninety
degree angle. I dropped to one knee and using the subsonic .22,
aimed about a half metre in front of each one and dropped all
three with heart shots and three rounds. My brother couldn't
believe it. Now that you know I'm not a bad shot.... Anyway, I
digress. :)
My mate and I were out on a farm near the Waikato river, South of
Tuakau. We both had 24 amp hour batteries that enabled us to shoot
all night, which we often did, even on work nights. My spot is a
pencil beam of 1/2 million candle power which is ideal for
sniping oppossums and bunnies at distance. My mate and I were using
silenced .22 Ruger 10/22 rifles.
It was early winter, cold with a thick mist near the river bed. One
of those eerie nights like they got in the Blair Witch project. We
made our way through the willows and trudged up this steep bank to
higher ground. Behind us lay dozens of dead oppossums that had been
noshing up on succulent TiTree shoots.
I came over the ridge line first and approached a fence surrounding a
huge paddock. A quick wave with the spotlight picked out the
horrendous creature I mentioned earlier.
These round bright, golden, white eyes peered back at me from the gloom.
It was half way across the paddock near a fenceline that lead away from us.
It's ears were flat on it's back and I estimated it's range to be around
120 metres. I cranked up my scope to nine magnification, rested an elbow
on the fence post, aimed and held my breath as I placed the scope
reticule about 600mm above the creatures head. :gob:
In my scope I could now easily see what I was looking at. It was a huge
super bunny. This is no joke. I pulled the trigger and because of
a slight breeze, the bullet sprayed up the dew about 20mm to the right
of the super bunny. It would have been a clean shot if not for the breeze.
I've heard the stories of big game hunters in Africa, getting one chance
to get a round off and if they missed, they were nearly as good as dead.
Well, the super bunny sprang into the air and went into attack mode.
My mate was laughing at my miss, but soon got as worried as me , as the
super bunny closed the distance rather too rapidly for my liking.
I started to panick and Sylvester Stallone style, emptied the remainder
of my clip, all nine rounds, at the advancing monster. When a sub sonic
round, hits a soft cuddly, you hear a sound rather like somone pounding
the crap out of a hard pillow. I heard that noise only once and the super
bunny flinched, but still it came. :bye:
I ejected the empty magazine and slapped in my full second which I keep as
a back up. Just as well I thought, as I cocked the semi auto ready for
round two. My mate and I had an unwritten rule, that if you came across
a furry cuddly and spotted it first, it was your shot. If you miss, it's
fair game for all present. He usually gave me the long shots anyway, which
always had me ahead. Anyway, unbelievably, he had opened up while I was
swapping magazines. The dumb super bunny was heading straight towards our spotlights at warp speed. The dew was spraying off the grass all around it as it approached the 25 metres mark. I heard another pillow thump and it
rolled, got to it's feet and kept right on coming. My mate had emptied his
first clip and his second clip was empty from before. I had emptied my
second clip and was frantically reloading the first while he kept the spot
on this frightening apparition. :gob:
It got to the fence line and literally leapt through the wires at us.
I jumped backwards and managed to stomp on it's head with my tramping boot.
Thinking it was all over, the super bunny wriggled to it's feet and made
to do a runner. After tossing thirty rounds of lead at this furry cuddly,
there was no way in this whole wide world it was getting away. My mate and
I chased it, caught up with it and both stomped the crap out of it.
We have struck several of these super beings over the years we have been shooting.
About one in a ten thousand appear impossible to kill. We unloaded
25 rounds, directly into a oppossum at 50 metres, once and it was still
alive.
Next story will be about the super oppossum from hell. :yes:
__________________