Summer Snow Beasts

Gallagher, Kim and Ruby the dogs, my brother and I crossed the freezing stream, our removed boots draped around our necks. The glacial river stung our heels, but we emerged on the other side ready to ascend the valley wall. Passing boulder fields, we began our climb. Now matagauri and Spaniards nipped at our heels. Masses of fluids had been drunk by the time we reached a new stream and began refilling. Suddenly, carried by the swirling wind came the all too familiar scent of deer. Kim’s ears perked up instantly, in an instant she was in hunting mode, glancing back at me to make the call. I motioned my companions to stop, and then I saw them, further up in the gulley. Where the snow fed stream emerged out of the scree, a mob of deer were making a steady getaway. They weren’t too alerted but they were certainly on the move. My plan formulated in my head instantly as I ranged them. 400 yards, I’d cross the stream, and run the 124 meters to the rock slightly further up where I could take an easy shot. Then I remembered by brother. I babbled my plan to him and gave him my rifle. He was yet to shoot a public land deer and this was his opportunity. I was not aware that he hadn’t even seen the deer now working their way up the scree. It was a balls up. More importantly it was my balls up. I was taking my friend and my brother on an excursion as a guide. It wasn’t a professional endeavour but my guidance which is instinctual to me had been given in a confusing manner to my compatriots. There was still time to fix this but it’d have to wait until we had followed the deer up onto the plateau we had been heading for.

The Macauley valley area north of Macauley hut is an entirely treeless landscape. Most hunters are used to stalking bush edges in early or evening light. I for one was certainly not used to this open country, the Kaimanawas have their fare share of open country but this glacial valley, -almost entirely devoid of shade- made trying to figure out where deer were difficult. The main objective of this trip was Himalayan Tahr, but knowing red deer called the region home we were on the lookout for sign, very often successfully.

Part of being a hunter is knowing how to hunt. It’s relatively easy to figure out one thing, one animal pattern, seasonal opportunity or spot. The true mark of a good hunter is being able to go into any area and figure things out. Taking in the information around you gathered from animal sign, sightings, plant species and weather. Then applying these into your hunting strategy. I had not quite considered the importance of water for ungulates. In this late spring weather. The sun could beat down mercilessly, further north or further south. Trees and shade would aid in the availability of water, but here in this shale dominated landscape water seldom appeared very far above the valley floor. This is what happened in this location. The steep sided stream we were walking up had a high percentage of shade, the thicker brush obviously enabled the deer to take some relief from the sun. Water enables lusher growth and also a cooling affect as the snow melt carried air currents and created a strong breeze. Also enabling us to get so close. In hindsight, walking up that stream, Kim was alert, and I should easily have known that animals would lie ahead.

Reinhard my brother was not worried about the deer, his level headedness was always something I had envied. It was pure fortune in disguise when we bumped the deer once more while looking for a campsite. There were seven all up. Standing in a line 600 yards away on the opposite face. Once more I handed my rifle to my brother while the rest of us waited. The plan was the same. Reinhard swiftly but sneakily closed the distance to a large rock, subtracting around 150 meters. With the sound of his first shot, it appeared to be a miss. Oh damn. The deer were on the move again. Reinhard was running to the next rock, I hesitated to join him because I figured the next shot would connect. Then I noticed the Tahr, high on a knarly bluff island, in the snow was a large mob. My brother sent another shot, and the Tahr noticed. Reinhard was still running, all seven deer were still running and the tahr were running really far away. Shit. Something else was wrong, one of my brothers’ shots must have connected, because I could now see a red trail in the snow behind the deer. They were pushing up, further into the snowy bluffs, rather than down anywhere else. It was bizarre, and we may have ruined our chances with the tahr but I had to help my brother, who had now sent off more shots in an attempt to secure the deer. I grabbed Gallaghers rifle and went to help my brother. He was now out of sight and the deer had climbed up into a snowy ravine, just shy of the skyline. We met where the blood trail started. “I got two” he exclaimed.

“I’ll run up and try and grab this one, you find the other one.” I panted. My feet beat up through the snowy shale. It was soft and slushy like from the summer sun. A slip here might be bad I thought as I followed deer prints and blood. The deer were less than thirty yards away, now holed up between two cliffs, unable to go up or down they were trapped. Had I wanted I could have killed one with a spear. Then just above them two tahr appeared, obviously stumped by the whole situation. They looked at the two-legged monkey, domesticated wolf and four deer with bewildered interest. The blood trail went to the left, and it was my priority. Me and Kim really worked up that hill, we were going damn fast. The thought of an animal suffering rolled around in my mind but I think in the end I knew it was futile. There was blood but it wasn’t from a mortal wound and the tracks went up and over the rise. I got to a point where I couldn’t go any farther. The snow was too slushy, slipping would mean a very fast slide down with nothing for my ice axe to bite into. I’m sure the deer survived, and probably runs through the hills to this day.

I trudged down disappointed but also relieved. Reinhard had killed a velvet stag lower down on the slope. He was already starting the gutting process when I got there. His first public land deer. And what a place to get it. Far above the tahr were still squeaking at us. Later, I thought as Kim and I approached. Later we would do some alpine math and figure out Reinhard had been shooting at around 600 yards. For a classic bomb up, he didn’t do too badly. Really it was my guiding that had let him down once more. Such is the way of hunting.

A caveman with his prey

A story like this gets me thinking about a number of things. The way we continually bumped this mob of deer was very telling to me. In this rugged summer scorched country large ungulates like red deer actually struggle to travel far. It happened we were heading the same way as them but, in the end, we were quite easily able to corner them in the alpine bluffs and snow. One can easily imagine the strategy’s early cavemen might employ to hunt animals. The natural ability of humans to endure great distances and plan ahead by carrying water gives us a cutting edge when it comes to alpine pursuit.

Ethics plays a huge part in the hunting ethos. Simply if you are a hunter, you will, at some point, injure an animal and be unable to recover it. It happens to the very best hunters’ multiple times. It’s a shitty thing, but it is the nature of what we do. Nothing is truly wasted in nature and the culling of our game animals is necessary regardless how much meat is harvested. Ultimately this was my fault, as the guide I should have given better direction to my brother and been with him to range animals when he was shooting. My brother is a far better shot than I, he always has been. This event definitely displayed that, But in regard to general hunting skills and strategies I have far more experience. Every hunter has a great amount of responsibility on their shoulders. But a hunting guide has even more. In the end I’d redeem myself in my guiding ability, I had gotten my brother his first public land deer. Now I needed to get my friends his first Tahr.

A treeless landscape