Easter Reds

FEATURE Glenn Schofield 

Easter Reds

It all started when, as editor of the Hunter Valley ADA newsletter, I received an article from long-time member Phil Grant. The story was about Phil being the camp cook when his son Aaron guides for red deer during the roar in the Brisbane Valley. I’m always on the lookout for possible hunts and after a few emails back and forth the deal was done. Branch members Clint Bamback, Shannon Rowe, Ben and myself were locked in for a trip at the start of the rut in 2023.

Aaron was meeting us on the Sunday, so we drove up from Newcastle on the Saturday to the pick-up town for the night. That afternoon we went for a drive sightseeing and to see if we could find a fishing spot to kill time. Pulling up at a local lookout, it wasn’t long before we had some red deer hinds in the binos and shortly after we heard the ‘buurrrrrr’ of a roaring stag. After some searching a young eight-point stag was located. By the time we pulled stumps we had located a dozen hinds and two roaring stags. The boys were stoked as they were the first that they had seen or heard roaring. The local security guard soon pulled in and started giving us the third degree but as we were doing nothing wrong, nor planning to, it wasn’t an issue to us. However, Shannon hidden in the bushes taking photos with his 35mm camera looked a bit suss and the guard drove away not completely convinced.

The next morning, we met Aaron at a pre-determined park and after a quick meet-and-greet we headed off to camp in convoy. Half an hour later we had a heavy shower of rain and had to engage four-wheel drive to reach camp on the top of a hill. Ducking under a tarp, we were surprised to see the familiar face of Burt, another branch member. He would be head cook and fire master for the week. Burt was a great cook and we were well fed, probably a bit too well fed. We were also introduced to Jerry, a mate of Aaron’s from his hunting time in Canada. Jerry helped with the caping and boiling out of the trophies. By the end of the trip, after all the stories of hunting moose, bears, elk and so on, we all suspected Jerry was a lot more famous as a guide back in Canada than he made out.

The rain soon stopped, the sun came out and the humidity went up with deer starting to pop out everywhere. From camp we had a 360-degree view over the property and the number of deer was amazing. We were like kids in a lolly shop pointing out groups of deer to each other.

When Aaron agreed to take on four hunters in one camp, he requested we predetermine the hunting sequence. We came up with Clint first, followed by Shannon, then Ben and I was last cab off the rank.

While glassing I spotted a stag down with a mob of hinds. I pointed him out to Ben and we both agreed he looked pretty good, so we called Aaron with the spotting scope. As soon as Aaron saw the animal it was game on. Clint was ready to go, so after a quick doublecheck of gear he, plus Aaron and Shannon, were off.

Ben and I watched the progress of the trio through the fairly open country. The boys were pinned by hinds on the way in but Aaron went upwind so that their scent spooked the hinds away from the stag’s area. As they were closing in cattle stampeded off, taking half the stag’s hinds with them, but luckily the stag stayed with those that remained. In the suspense, Clint developed buck fever, so he used a tree as a solid rest. The stag was moving around in a patch of lantana and Clint waited until the animal offered a shot though a small shooting lane. He tapped off a shot with his .270 and had his stag at 70m. It had very nice antlers with 12 points, seven on one side and five on the other.

Meanwhile, Ben and I glassed from camp until it was too dark to see and the darker it got the more deer came out; well over 100 deer, including a number of stags.

The next morning, the four of us were up an hour before shooting light to find that Burt and Jerry had beaten us and we were greeted with a boiled billy and a comforting fire. As we sat around the fire drinking coffee, we could hear a dingo howling up on the ridge and red deer stags roaring from the four points of the compass. It doesn’t get much better than this!

Shannon was the next designated hunter so he, Aaron and Ben headed out in the pre-dawn to put in a big hunt but returned empty handed. That afternoon Ben passed on his turn so Shannon and I could hunt together. Aaron drove us to an area that could not be glassed from camp. After leaving the car it wasn’t long before he spotted a bedded stag in a stand of trees. Through the spotting scope we determined it was a big nine-point stag with five points on one side and four on the other. I said to Shannon, “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him”, but he declined my offer.

We moved in, with Aaron and Shannon leading while I trailed 20m behind. We bumped hinds on the way but, luckily, they departed without spooking the stag. Another two stags were roaring up the hill from us but Aaron left them, saying “go after one or come back with none”. When we got to the stand of trees that the stag had been in, he was gone. After some searching the animal was located doing the rounds and marking the perimeter of his rutting pad. Sneaking up the back of a knoll they closed the distance and then used a tree for cover. Shannon got into a comfortable position to shoot from and when the stag stopped and turned broadside at 200m, he took the shot . The stag was hard-hit and collapsed not long after.

On Tuesday morning Aaron, Ben and I went after a really big nine-pointer that we had spotted the evening before, but lucked out, although we did see smaller stags.

That afternoon we spotted a nice even 10-pointer in a basin with a half-dozen hinds. Ben was up to shoot so he and Aaron headed in. When they reached the shooting tree, roosting birds gave them away and the deer had them pinned. Right on dark Ben missed a 250m shot in the fading light. We trudged back to the car in the dark.

On Wednesday, Ben and I were up again and hunted hard most of the day. During the morning hunt we spotted a huge black boar but no huntable stags. That afternoon we spotted a rusa stag with antlers about 28 inches long, but he wasn’t on the list. We also found another even 10-pointer and put in a stalk, which resulted in Ben missing again with a difficult uphill shot. He was over it, and when I reached him, he had his bolt out of the rifle and asked me to put it in his pack as his confidence was shot and he wasn’t shooting again this trip. I’ve been in the same position before; you feel you have let everyone down, but that’s hunting. I told him, “when we get back to camp and after a good feed, a few beers and a good night’s sleep you will have your head back in the game”.

Returning to the car we spotted a compact nine-pointer that I nominated to take as our time was running out. We stalked back into the same basin behind the same tree where Ben had missed the stag two days before. The stag sauntered out from the creek and Aaron ranged him at 180m. I settled in for my favourite standing post-shot. The stag wandered closer and then turned broadside at 165m. I took a big breath, slowly exhaled and stopped. I squeezed off the shot. He dropped as if poleaxed. There were plenty of smiles, handshakes and pats on the back. Ben had videoed the shot on his phone and the replay was spectacular. That left one day’s hunting and Ben still had his stag to get.

The last morning, we were all glassing from camp as the light strengthened, looking for a stag for Ben. Aaron spotted one out in the open way off in the distance and declared he was a shooter. He and Ben jumped into the car and were off. From camp I set up to watch their progress through the spotting scope. The stag wandered out of sight but it wasn’t long before Aaron and Ben were visible closing in and they were soon setting up for the shot. I was willing Ben to shoot true but after the shot there were no handshakes and they quickly headed off and circled round before disappearing. We heard a second and third shot then silence. Ben didn’t respond to texts from me asking if his stag was down; this had us worried. When Ben and Aaron pulled up in the ute, they were both poker-faced. We were all relieved when they opened the back of the ute to reveal a nice stag with five points on each side.

The next morning we packed up early, said our goodbyes and headed off for another four days’ hunting fallow bucks and fishing for Murray cod back in NSW. But that’s another tale.