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Taking a representative Sambar stag has been a long time ambition and the quest to achieve this is something a lot of people in our modern world have little or no appreciation of. Humans are hunters and gatherers, that’s why the instinct to hunt and fish is so strong in some of us. I am amazed at the number of people who frown upon hunters and label us as some kind of out cast. I’m sure many a reader has had a similar experience and it seems every day the hunter is being marginalised. It wasn’t that long ago that rabbits were commonplace in the butchers shop and school cadets were a part of every day life. My, how things have changed in the name of progress and yet again history starts to repeat itself as we stare at a possible recession. How fortunate I am to be part of a previous generation and maybe some of my skills will be passed down the line. I wonder what my sons will remember when they look at those old heads gathering dust? Hopefully they to will have a story to tell about how they stalked the mighty sambar.
My urge to hunt the mighty Sambar began many years ago when I chased these elusive deer in the early 80’s with my mates Glen and Tony aro und the back of Tyres and Glengarry. We weren’t very successful and finding a hoof mark was a big thing. A 30/30 lever action was supposedly a good deer rifle and a 4 WD was something only rich blokes had. This is all part of the learning curve and we had to start somewhere. Moving away from the area, living in suburbia and raising a family have taken many years and yet I have returned to a sport that tests the individual to the maximum. How many times have I said, “I’m getting too old for this shit”, whilst hoisting a pack off a rock face that my hunting partner is hanging on to. I’m referring to back packing the most extreme form of hunting I know of. Everything for survival in the high country is carried on your back. I keep asking myself the same question over and over again, as I try to keep up with fitter and younger hunters. Pounding the pavement late at night trying to get some form of exercise, my thoughts are never far from to those big stags. If you aren’t fit you will be punished severely, make no mistakes about back packing. Every little step in training can help as you gasp for air, sweat profusely and your legs feel like jelly. Sucking 3 litres of water on the way in to a new valley is nothing new and its then you realise you are well and truly alive.
Many times I have been in the high country and have seen a doe or nearly trodden on a calf. Yet the stags I have seen and glassed were too far, too small or I just wasn’t fit enough to get over to them. It doesn’t really matter at least I’m doing it whilst my skills and understanding of the Sambar builds. These are called the hard yards and my goodness have I walked a few of those, I’m not one of those lucky guys that have walked 100 metres into the bush and managed to deck a Sambar stag on their first trip. No, my destiny was to do it the hard way! With hunting buddies such as Reg Gordon, Dennis Wells and other GDSA members, I always knew it would be just a matter of time. I just needed to stick at it and learn all I could from the best. I have been present during the taking of a few really good stags and yet I have never had the opportunity to crack one. I work on a theory what goes around comes around and this time it was my turn. You will never see a jealous word spoken amongst true hunting mates when a Sambar is shot and it is a big effort by all involved. Its no secret we are getting older and it’s a wise move to have company just in case, in those remote locations. Many hours of range time and practice have also gone into the preparation of this stag and I consider myself a reasonable shot. Being able to shoot under extreme pressure is part of the deal and having shot other deer species previously helped calm those nerves.
My fortune changed recently when once again we were carrying heavy packs into another valley that we knew held deer. This is tough country and it tests your mind and body as John and myself picked our way down over scrub and rock escarpments. Once again we were off track and had missed the easy route to our proposed camp as my energy levels drained. Late in the afternoon we made camp after adjusting our route several times. I hate having to ascend up again with a heavily laden pack as we picked the wrong approach. Upon our late arrival we started glassing immediately with our Swarovski’s. John had a larger set of Swaros and it wasn’t long before he picked out a doe right over the gully a long way away, lying down facing into a terrible wind. Wow, what an anti climax nothing big sighted despite our best efforts glassing. Strong cold snow winds I thought to myself, please give me some sun. Seeing sambar doesn’t mean you can get to them in this alpine country when glassing.
The next morning saw us up before light and a quick cuppa was all we had time for. Grabbing my rifle and pack we climbed down to our viewing perch. Gee my legs already felt tired! In my hands I had the all new Sako A7 blued in 300wsm topped with a Burris Fullfield 4.5 to 14 scope. I had only fired 8 hand loads after mounting the scope and adjusting the trigger. Talk about knowing your equipment, a quick range session is all I managed and I still wasn’t 100 percent satisfied. I knew I was carrying a proven load but was the combination up to the task was a question at the back of my mind. Glassing for a few hours showed little activity. The sun got up high and the prime time passed. Bugger, I thought this was going to be the day, but all was not over as I knew Reg and Dennis would be joining us that evening. Around 4pm my laser corrected eyes spotted Dennis and Reg descending down towards us. Nothing wrong with my eyes I thought keeping careful watch and looking for any deer movements out wide. As we greeted them into camp it was just about that time again to start our glassing ritual. Now we had 4 pairs of eyes looking, looking, and looking. A few Sambar hinds were sp otted late that evening but they were a long way away.
The following Sunday morning we got up a tad late so we took off to different positions trying to catch a stag out as he returned to his bedding area. This was prime time and we should be seeing more deer. After an hour or so good old Miyagi (Dennis) spotted a stag bedded down in the shade. All I remember was him saying, “I’ve got one I’m not taking my eyes off it.” I tried to locate the stag by aligning myself with him and I finally spotted the bedded stag. Reg and John quickly joined us and the grand master declared he was a shooter. The hunt was on but boy did he look a long way away. He was on a 40 degree decline facing us between two clumps of scrub with a small dead tree in front. A bloody tough shot on a small target in any ones language and then reality started to set in on what I had to do to get this stag.
No bloody good trying to get down to him, he will hear and scent me coming and how the hell do I try to locate him again. Make no mistake this tough shitty country we were in and nothing is as easy it looks. I got the Leica laser range finder out and pinged him at 247 metres. No hold over required was instantly factored as this as rifle was 1 ½ inches high at 100 metres and I was shooting down hill at 40 degrees. Then I started to set up for a shot should he stand up for me as the pressure inside was building. No point in rushing this, as I had to stick to my systems and put basic long range techniques into practice. I tried shooting sticks but I was too wobbly so I threw my Eberlestock J105 down and lay down with my legs up high facing down hill and my chest was lying on some nasty rocks, not the most comfortable position. I eased the rifle over the pack and tried to pick the up the stag in the Burris scope cranked right up to 14 power. I had to use a big tree as a reference as this stag was well and truly hidden. John confirmed the distance for me as Reg set up his filming equipment. I swear I felt Dennis poking a stick into my backside as a bit of fun and I had no idea what they were up to behind me. I was in the zone and I ignored everything around me that wasn’t relevant. I had a big job here on a very small target with a demo rifle I wasn’t that comfortable with yet. John reassured me it was a walk in the park for a bloke who has spent many hours in practice with a 300. Yeah, for sure as it wasn’t him lying down with rocks under his chest trying to make out a well hidden stag, with a stick getting poked into his backside. John confirmed the distance to be 246 metres and encouraged me further by commenting that I could do this.
I thought I should wait until he stood up and offer me a perfect side on shot and the minutes just ticked past. Perfect side on shot hey, well that doesn’t always happen does it? The first hour just flew whilst I was totally focused onto this stag and yet he just wouldn’t get up. He moved his head from side to side giving himself a scratch but he refused to get up. It was an experience just watching his behaviour in a totally undisturbed state. Reg managed to grab some great footage of this animal as he lay in his daytime bed. The sun rays was penetrating the thick canopy now where he laid, relaxed none the wiser that hunters were watching him. As the minutes ticked by I knew it was time to take a shot, should he get up and move a few metres either way the scrub would swallow him up. He could possibly lay up here all day was the conclusion. The decision was made to take a shot when the stag moved his head out of the way. We did not have all day and it was starting to warm up. Time to take up the challenge and take it to him as I sensed the boys were getting restless.
As I called “fire in the hole” to warn everyone I was about to fire the cross hairs slid over his chest and neck and again he moved his head in line with my aim. The stag was bedded facing us and Reg said, “not now” as he was fiddling and adjusting his Canon handycam camera and again I had to regain focus. Okay “ready” was the whisper, no pressure at all guys, I thought to myself (B.S). After what seemed like another minute I gently squeezed the trigger trying to focus that waiving cross hair on his shoulder area and the rifle recoiled heavily and my sight picture was gone. I looked up and saw the stag moving out of his bed and take flight and immediately my heart started to sink wondering what had gone wrong. I reloaded quickly in case I got another chance.
The stag never crested up the small ridge and he disappeared quickly from view. We had terrific visibility of the surrounds and he never reappeared. Reg rewound his camera to view the footage. Na, “you’ve hit him “was the verdict and we watched the footage again to confirm the shot. I was feeling better already, as my aim was true. The vapour trail was clearly evident as the projectile sped along its path, it’s awesome footage in any case. We quickly made ready for the stalk to the animal but it wasn’t a matter of simply walking down a nice tranquil gully.
We had to contour down, through some rocky escarpment country which was easier for some of us not carrying a rifle or weighted pack.
John remained high to watch over us and radio should the stag appear again. Twenty minutes later we were in his bed and whilst Dennis was looking down he found my projectile just lying on the ground. The 180gn Barnes TTSX had its 4 petals spread back and there was deer hair over the shank. This is amazing as you rarely recover these TTSX projectiles. We had a quick discussion and we believed he was just over the ridge hopefully dead. Reg was worried there wasn’t much blood but I had faith in the ability of the Barnes TTSX at that range.
After a few minutes of discussion, Reg led the way showing his tracking skills and intimate knowledge and was setting a cracking pace, as Dennis and I had to stop to strip off our heavy tops. Reg was getting ahead, a bit like a soldier on point with us trying to follow as quickly as we could. This bloke is fitter than most 20 year olds I kid you not. As I walked along a narrow game trail I noticed some pools of blood so I knew it wouldn’t be long before we would come across this stag. John up high couldn’t see us but that’s the nature of these high country mountains. We started to descend again and I spotted Reg waiving his hand and pointing with his camera in his other hand. The stag was under a bluff on his knees looking at Reg and as I sided up I just looked through the cross hairs and let another well aimed 180gn hand loaded bullet rip at around 50 metres. At the sound of the shot the stag was literally blown off his legs and commenced his down hill role. I just heard the crashing as this large animal just kept sliding down hill, I knew it was over and we moved forward to see where he ended up. As I looked down another 30 metres the stag was wedged alongside and half under a fallen tree with no further movement, he was well and truly done.
As I tried getting down to him I lost my footing and perfected the posterior bump landing with a half bounce move. Dennis came along and congratulated me as Reg kept his camera running. Some light ribbing commenced in relation to the brands of binoculars we used from our resident Leica advocate. The Leica boy was carrying a demo set of Zeiss FL Victory 10x42’s how funny is that? Reality hadn’t set in yet and I was tyring to get a few words together for the rolling camera. The Stag’s main beam was broken as he had his head firmly wedged into  the trunk of the tree. Lucky I know a taxidermist who can put the antler together again I thought. I don’t care this is my stag, its real time hunting and shit does happen. You have to be a realist hunting in this environment and it is a really tough gig. We don’t always have the perfect opportunity or conditions as depicted on many US hunting DVD’s.
The Sako A7 performed as it should and this is possibly the first sambar taken in the world with one, definitely in Australia that’s for sure. I already have a 75 finlight in my safe so this rifle was up my alley. It’s a shame it had to go back to Beretta’s Tony Saros, but who ever buys that A7 300wsm rifle has got themselves something a little unusual in that it has been christened big time. Reg did like those Zeiss Victories but it took Dennis and his Swarovski SLC’s to spot the stag. It’s pretty hard to sway Reg from his Leica’s but it was difficult to get the Victories out of his hands! Using some of the best binoculars in the world puts a new meaning to the phrase “deer eyes” referring to the expense. I do like the new Zeiss Victories and they match it with the best names in the binocular business.
Great glass is so important with this type of hunting. There is no way that this stag would have been located without the use of top quality glass.
For the next few hours we all gathered and time was spent caping, chatting and taking the obligatory photos. Reg was keen to demonstrate these new Havalon Piranti knives and they really save all that over rated knife sharpening garb. A search took place to recover all the pieces missing on the damaged antlers and Reg found the missing tip. After removing the choice cuts of meat I just kept looking up, as that’s were we had to go. Jeepers those capes weigh a bit don’t they? I was quite slow following the guys back to base camp as my Eberlestock was heavily laden. At base camp that night we had a restless time with rain pouring down around us. It was rough sleeping for other reasons that we will never forget and we got up frequently to catch precious water, which we needed for the climb out.
The time and place will be remembered as it was the day after the 2008 AFL Grand Final and we still didn’t have a clue which team had won. Consequently, this stag is named the Hawthorn stag in honour of the champion side. He was no monster of the forest only measuring 23 inches, but the only way for me now is upward. This is our story and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’m a great believer in the old tale of what goes around comes around. You couldn’t wish for better hunting buddies and my thoughts are never far from that next trip up high with them.
Good hunting
Herb Lonsing
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