I was put in contact with a man in Hampshire that has sika. I need one to close out my UK six, so 4 hour drive be damned. I'm up and out the door by three thirty to meet up by 8. Handshake and a quick cup of tea sees us out on the ground straight out his back door. Within the first 10 minutes we're picking up heat EVERYWHERE. Just enough light allows us to make out a few sika hinds and some brockets, but nothing to write home about. We start to angle around to see the rest of the herd and I hear a strange chirping sound I've never heard before. "We're busted" he whispers to me as the wood erupts and about 30 sika take off running from the wood. My guide scans intently and with a smirk tells me there wasn't a decent stag among them so let em **** off as there's now less eyes in the woods. I can hardly contain my excitement after this promising proof of life. He lays out the plan and we continue on around the grounds......for 5 hours...without seeing another deer.
We come over yet another hill and we spot a hind casually munching away in some bracken. A look around shows two more hinds alongside. The panic starts to set in as he whispers to me "A sika hind is still a sika. It still counts." I weigh my options and he comes back to me "To hell with it, we need to change up our luck, and I need the numbers anyway. Let's put em down." Up on the sticks I go and I put the reticle on the most difficultly positioned one. The 6.5 PRC and I both do what we're here to do and she drops on the spot. A quick reload and the hind on the left is next. The second crack of the gun was enough to send the third hind running down the hill. My guide gives a quick "Hey!" And she stops at around 160 yards. A high neck shot sees her end and the wood falls quiet.
Sika are heavier than I thought as we are dragging them down the hill to the atv track at the bottom. A quick gralloch and carcass inspection before we make our plan. In normal speaking volume we talk about stalking back up the hill and through the next valley, but then "tea really should be coming soon. Its been a long morning."
Theres a crash in the bushes at the top of the hill. A large hind stops and is staring at us intently. I notice 10 yards behind her is a stout brocket. My guide gets the rifle on the sticks and tells me "its got antlers if you want it! No charge for a brocket." I put my cheek on the riser as I'm waiting for him to give me a clear shot. Just another step and his chest is clear of the brush and it'll be game on. When out of nowhere a stag literally comes leaping in from the right and scares the brocket. My guide excitedly whispers "THAT'S OUR MAN!" The stag is near the top. He's walking in a circle and there's about 15 yards of hill behind him to act as a back stop. My guide tells me, "as soon as he stops, drill him." A quick whistle and he proudly turns broadside to investigate. BIG MISTAKE. The report of the rifle and the quick jump by the stag is everything. He runs straight and then a hard left to go up the hill, but just before the crest, he hits the dirt. Deer down.
It wasnt until we got on him that my guide admitted "I was really starting to get worried that we weren't going to find one. I'm glad we chose to shake things up. He was probably bedded down and when he heard the shots, he got up and moved around." I replied "Don't worry, I never lost faith." A quick gralloch and we were off to the house to grab the tractor. A fantastic stalk and a new memory made.
We come over yet another hill and we spot a hind casually munching away in some bracken. A look around shows two more hinds alongside. The panic starts to set in as he whispers to me "A sika hind is still a sika. It still counts." I weigh my options and he comes back to me "To hell with it, we need to change up our luck, and I need the numbers anyway. Let's put em down." Up on the sticks I go and I put the reticle on the most difficultly positioned one. The 6.5 PRC and I both do what we're here to do and she drops on the spot. A quick reload and the hind on the left is next. The second crack of the gun was enough to send the third hind running down the hill. My guide gives a quick "Hey!" And she stops at around 160 yards. A high neck shot sees her end and the wood falls quiet.
Sika are heavier than I thought as we are dragging them down the hill to the atv track at the bottom. A quick gralloch and carcass inspection before we make our plan. In normal speaking volume we talk about stalking back up the hill and through the next valley, but then "tea really should be coming soon. Its been a long morning."
Theres a crash in the bushes at the top of the hill. A large hind stops and is staring at us intently. I notice 10 yards behind her is a stout brocket. My guide gets the rifle on the sticks and tells me "its got antlers if you want it! No charge for a brocket." I put my cheek on the riser as I'm waiting for him to give me a clear shot. Just another step and his chest is clear of the brush and it'll be game on. When out of nowhere a stag literally comes leaping in from the right and scares the brocket. My guide excitedly whispers "THAT'S OUR MAN!" The stag is near the top. He's walking in a circle and there's about 15 yards of hill behind him to act as a back stop. My guide tells me, "as soon as he stops, drill him." A quick whistle and he proudly turns broadside to investigate. BIG MISTAKE. The report of the rifle and the quick jump by the stag is everything. He runs straight and then a hard left to go up the hill, but just before the crest, he hits the dirt. Deer down.
It wasnt until we got on him that my guide admitted "I was really starting to get worried that we weren't going to find one. I'm glad we chose to shake things up. He was probably bedded down and when he heard the shots, he got up and moved around." I replied "Don't worry, I never lost faith." A quick gralloch and we were off to the house to grab the tractor. A fantastic stalk and a new memory made.
