After a bit of rest, some lunch (pork pies, crisps, and coffee) and a strategy session, it was decided I would go back to the meadow where I spied the big sika in the morning. LeviGSP and Brother Scott would go to the second clearfell that was awash in sign.
I quietly exited the vehicle, and headed toward the meadow. I found a slightly higher hump of ground to seemed to provide a view of the entire meadow while being favorable for the current wind direction. I arranged my sticks, rifle, checked the ground for a soft and reasonably dry spot, and then promptly fell asleep for nearly an hour. Fortunately I awoke with the last hour before dark still available to me. But, all was for naught. The meadow was as quiet as my dreams.
Meanwhile, the other team went down to the logging access road and drove down as close to the clearfell as possible. It wasn’t long before they spotted a stag and hind at the limits of proper identification with binoculars. Realizing there was no way to make an approach across at least ½ a mile of clearfell, they carried on. Not much further and they were rewarded with a young stag standing broadside at perhaps 250 yards. The beast was staring their direction but clearly not excessively alarmed.
With a solid rest, and a quick ranging, Brother Scott held for 240 yards and sent the shot on the way. He lurched (the beast, not Scott) forward and stopped, then staggered a bit disappearing behind a small stand of trees. Confident in the shot they started the approach and let the German Shorthair “Van” have his head to find the stag. Quickly “Van” found the downed quarry.
A quick gralloch showed another healthy and fat stag, and the shot placement through both lungs was just as expected. A short drag put the animal in an Argo accessible location, and then back in the hunt for a sika. Alas, no more shootable animals were located before dark so it was back to the truck for the Argo and recovery of the young stag.
In Brother Scott’s own words “I realize that this story was a bit less than exciting. No rivers were braved or mountains scaled and I took the first shot offered on a legal beast. I am primarily a meat hunter and I think that each and every animal is a gift and should be regarded as such. In my opinion, full bellies are the best trophies. Rarely will I pass on a healthy animal that will fill my freezer or that of others. In fact, I have only pulled the trigger 6 times in my life on antlered game, much preferring fat does and cow elk. Four of six were felled in Scotland under the guidance and tutelage of both FallowStalker and LeviGSP (including a Sika Spiker shot for table fare) and all will be proudly displayed in my home, regardless of size. Credit is also due SikaMalc and his lovely wife Sandra for their generous invite that first brought us to Scotland. It was they that planted the seed that has matured in a might Scotch Pine. I will cherish these memories forever. My dreams of hunting no longer occur in the States, but in the Highlands.”
As an aside - I should point out at this time, that perhaps I was a bit harsh on the Argo. The design of the Argo (except for the cockpit) is
truly brilliant. It can go across terrain that would impassible to a quad, and its low center of gravity means it is nearly impossible to tip over.
The ride BACK across bog and moor with Stag as cargo redeems the vehicle, the Argo has certainly has a niche. As a matter of fact, Brother
Scott is now actively looking at Argos as a ranch vehicle for his place in Colorado.
Stag loaded next to his deceased relative, Argo loaded back on trailer, team 2 headed my direction. Upon arrival they played coy and acted as if they had shot nothing, but soon the cat was out of the bag. I walked around to the Argo and my first words were “You’ve shot a Sika, congratulations”. They both corrected me and said “No, just a young red with a poor rack.”, but I wasn’t so sure. The antlers were quite dark, and did not angle out quite like a red does.
It was quite late by the time we got back to the larder, so after hanging, removing the pluck and head, and weighing, we just headed to bed. Just for the record, my stag was 12 stone with head, pluck and hocks removed – so reasonably assumed to have been 14 stone or better on the hoof. Brother Scotts stag was right at 10 stone so perhaps 12 stone on the hoof. Both were in quite excellent condition. Yes, I know I could use "pounds" but somehow that doesn't seem appropriate when speaking of Highland stags.
The next morning we slept in, had a proper Scots breakfast then went out to work on the heads. Along side the wall, the difference between the two was more evident than we thought. Based on facial coloration, antler color and growth we felt this could be a red x sika hybrid. After boiling out the skulls we headed south to Lairg to meet up with SikaMalc and his lovely wife Sandra. We of course wanted a second opinion, as well as a chance to visit.
Malc and Sandra were in good spirits and we had a bit of pleasant talk before getting to the point. Did he think this could be a hybrid. At first he was fairly certain that it was just a run of the mill red, based on phone pictures.
However, when we presented the boiled heads he noted some antler characteristics that were not exactly right for a red, and favored perhaps a sika. Malc was much less certain that this was a pure red, and instead suggested that it might be an F2 or F3 hybrid, mostly red but showing some sika characteristics. His parting comments on the subject were to look at the hocks when we got back. A white hock gland was the mark of sika, while the red/brown would be for a red. Upon arrival, the hocks did show a white gland so we suspect that this was indeed a hybrid stag.
So – while this is story of our stalk – please do chime in with an opinion on the head. I wish we had taken better pictures, but by the time we had thought of that it was dark and many of the “bits” were in a pluck bucket full of the sort of things that really don’t need to be photographed.
Part 3 will follow – but that will be strictly shooting so if you are purely a deer stalker you can tune out now.
I quietly exited the vehicle, and headed toward the meadow. I found a slightly higher hump of ground to seemed to provide a view of the entire meadow while being favorable for the current wind direction. I arranged my sticks, rifle, checked the ground for a soft and reasonably dry spot, and then promptly fell asleep for nearly an hour. Fortunately I awoke with the last hour before dark still available to me. But, all was for naught. The meadow was as quiet as my dreams.
Meanwhile, the other team went down to the logging access road and drove down as close to the clearfell as possible. It wasn’t long before they spotted a stag and hind at the limits of proper identification with binoculars. Realizing there was no way to make an approach across at least ½ a mile of clearfell, they carried on. Not much further and they were rewarded with a young stag standing broadside at perhaps 250 yards. The beast was staring their direction but clearly not excessively alarmed.
With a solid rest, and a quick ranging, Brother Scott held for 240 yards and sent the shot on the way. He lurched (the beast, not Scott) forward and stopped, then staggered a bit disappearing behind a small stand of trees. Confident in the shot they started the approach and let the German Shorthair “Van” have his head to find the stag. Quickly “Van” found the downed quarry.
A quick gralloch showed another healthy and fat stag, and the shot placement through both lungs was just as expected. A short drag put the animal in an Argo accessible location, and then back in the hunt for a sika. Alas, no more shootable animals were located before dark so it was back to the truck for the Argo and recovery of the young stag.
In Brother Scott’s own words “I realize that this story was a bit less than exciting. No rivers were braved or mountains scaled and I took the first shot offered on a legal beast. I am primarily a meat hunter and I think that each and every animal is a gift and should be regarded as such. In my opinion, full bellies are the best trophies. Rarely will I pass on a healthy animal that will fill my freezer or that of others. In fact, I have only pulled the trigger 6 times in my life on antlered game, much preferring fat does and cow elk. Four of six were felled in Scotland under the guidance and tutelage of both FallowStalker and LeviGSP (including a Sika Spiker shot for table fare) and all will be proudly displayed in my home, regardless of size. Credit is also due SikaMalc and his lovely wife Sandra for their generous invite that first brought us to Scotland. It was they that planted the seed that has matured in a might Scotch Pine. I will cherish these memories forever. My dreams of hunting no longer occur in the States, but in the Highlands.”
As an aside - I should point out at this time, that perhaps I was a bit harsh on the Argo. The design of the Argo (except for the cockpit) is
truly brilliant. It can go across terrain that would impassible to a quad, and its low center of gravity means it is nearly impossible to tip over.
The ride BACK across bog and moor with Stag as cargo redeems the vehicle, the Argo has certainly has a niche. As a matter of fact, Brother
Scott is now actively looking at Argos as a ranch vehicle for his place in Colorado.
Stag loaded next to his deceased relative, Argo loaded back on trailer, team 2 headed my direction. Upon arrival they played coy and acted as if they had shot nothing, but soon the cat was out of the bag. I walked around to the Argo and my first words were “You’ve shot a Sika, congratulations”. They both corrected me and said “No, just a young red with a poor rack.”, but I wasn’t so sure. The antlers were quite dark, and did not angle out quite like a red does.
It was quite late by the time we got back to the larder, so after hanging, removing the pluck and head, and weighing, we just headed to bed. Just for the record, my stag was 12 stone with head, pluck and hocks removed – so reasonably assumed to have been 14 stone or better on the hoof. Brother Scotts stag was right at 10 stone so perhaps 12 stone on the hoof. Both were in quite excellent condition. Yes, I know I could use "pounds" but somehow that doesn't seem appropriate when speaking of Highland stags.
The next morning we slept in, had a proper Scots breakfast then went out to work on the heads. Along side the wall, the difference between the two was more evident than we thought. Based on facial coloration, antler color and growth we felt this could be a red x sika hybrid. After boiling out the skulls we headed south to Lairg to meet up with SikaMalc and his lovely wife Sandra. We of course wanted a second opinion, as well as a chance to visit.
Malc and Sandra were in good spirits and we had a bit of pleasant talk before getting to the point. Did he think this could be a hybrid. At first he was fairly certain that it was just a run of the mill red, based on phone pictures.
However, when we presented the boiled heads he noted some antler characteristics that were not exactly right for a red, and favored perhaps a sika. Malc was much less certain that this was a pure red, and instead suggested that it might be an F2 or F3 hybrid, mostly red but showing some sika characteristics. His parting comments on the subject were to look at the hocks when we got back. A white hock gland was the mark of sika, while the red/brown would be for a red. Upon arrival, the hocks did show a white gland so we suspect that this was indeed a hybrid stag.
So – while this is story of our stalk – please do chime in with an opinion on the head. I wish we had taken better pictures, but by the time we had thought of that it was dark and many of the “bits” were in a pluck bucket full of the sort of things that really don’t need to be photographed.
Part 3 will follow – but that will be strictly shooting so if you are purely a deer stalker you can tune out now.