I was up well before first light and off to do a stake-out before retrieving my trail camera card.  I walked in and took up a position just a little down the face of the spur.  Previously, I had sat against an old fence post.  From close to that post it seemed that the spur behind would hide my silhouette.  However, looking back from the dead calf and boar, on the edge of the creek, it was apparent that my outline could easily be seen from there.

The old post 150 metres away on the spur

I moved about 15 metres down the side of the spur and sat beside a tuft of grass.  With my blaze camo jacket, face mask and camo mitts, I was well concealed.  Any animals at the carrion would not be able to see my outline.

Camo-ed up and concealed by a tuft of grass

The daylight gathered and then the sun rose behind the forest clad ridges before me.  I was facing pretty much east and the breeze was in my face, ideal for my purpose.  An hour and a half passed quickly.  I put my binoculars into my backpack in preparation for packing up and going down to check the camera.

A movement to my right caught my eye.  A big black dog had popped up on the bank of the creek in plain view, about 150 metres away.  Obviously, it had come out of the jungle and followed the creek down.

I was prepped for such a sudden event.  Wild dogs have a habit of just appearing like that.  I leaned forward, brought up the Vanguard 257 Weatherby Magnum to my shoulder and closed the bolt.

The illuminated centre dot of the Swarovski z6i 2.5-15×56 scope stood out clearly on the inky black hide of the wild dog.  I squeezed the trigger and released a 110 grain Nosler Accubond at a smidge over 3,300 fps.

There was the solid whomp of a good hit and the dog flopped to the ground.  I stayed where I was for another half hour and called gently a few times.  Often, if you avoid rushing straight down to your quarry, another dog may warily come in to investigate, giving you a second opportunity.

But, not today.  The wild dog was a hefty female, not the scrawny little bitch I chased a few days ago and whose photo I have captured on the trail camera.  With several new born calves in the paddock and more due any day, the farmer was very happy with the result when I called in to let him know.

At home, the trail camera photos revealed that the only feral visitor in the last few days had been a large and very pregnant sow that snuffled about the carrion an hour or so before I arrived.  By the look of her, there will soon be another litter of feral hogs joining the abundant local population.

A large feral sow sniffs about the carrion