Pig Party
by Jim Taylor

Javelina season was upon us in Arizona.  A number of us had put in together for the H.A.M season (Handgun, Archery and Muzzle Loader). We were all hunting with handguns and decided to make a party of it.  Everyone camped out at my place so we would be ready for the Big Hunt.  I had scouted the area near the San Pedro River just a few miles from the town of Mammoth.  A large field of oats bordered the river and was being actively worked by the little pigs.  Just to the other side of the field the hills rose up steeply, covered with greasewood and fairly thick with brush.    The pigs would lay up in these hills and then sally forth in the evening to dine at the ranchers expense. I had scouted the hills and found lots of sign and seen quite a few pigs in there.  I figured there must be quite a large herd from what I saw.  No one had been hunting the area and the game was not spookier than normal.

There were 6 of us in the party.  My Dad, Tom Peterson, Marlin Davis, Chris Wolfard, Keith Hill and myself.  I was the only one using a .45.  Marlin had a Ruger SBH in .44 Magnum and the rest had .357's of various types.  Dad was using his Model 586 S&W which was fairly new at the time.  He had only put about 30,000 rounds through it in the 2 or 2 1/2 years he had owned it.  Tom was carrying a Colt Trooper, Chris had a 4" S&W and Keith had a Ruger Blackhawk 6".  I am not sure what loads they were using.  Dad was carrying his handloads of a 160 gr. Keith SWC cast hard over 14.5 gr. 2400.

The day opened up bright and clear and found us moving into the hills slowly and quietly. About 30 minutes into the hunt we hear 3 shots from where Tom had gone up, so we worked our way over.  He had a nice large boar.  It had broken out running right from underneath him and he missed the first shot, but not the next two!  It was down within 40 yards.  Since the hunt was just starting Tom said he would clean it and then go back to the truck and nap til we came in. 

We worked our way on up the steep hills until we reached the ridge at the top.    From there we could see down across the flats in front of us.  A lone hunter was walking along, right toward a pig which was laying in plain view in his path.   We thought he must have shot it and was going to get it.  The hunter had a pistol in his hand as he walked along.  When he got within 20 feet or so of the pig it jumped up and raced across the trail and into the brush.  The hunter in the meantime had turned his gun loose, but missed every shot!   Later on he said he never saw it until it started to run and so startled him that he did not even aim.

We turned and went back down into a draw that ran north and south across in front of us.  As we got near the bottom a large Javelina came trotting over the hill toward us, obviously spooked by something.  It may have been the same one we saw run across in front of the hunter below.  It was coming right past Dad, about 30 yards out, so he sat down, cocked the S & W and as the pig came in front of him he fired - and shot right over it's back!  It turned directly away from him and began to run faster, going uphill.  Dad stood up and fired one shot double-action and dropped the sow.    The bullet went in the left ham and came out alongside her neck on the left side.   Right through the heart from behind.  Later Dad said he knew he should never have fired single action. He does not shoot that way.  Everything he does is double-action.  Whatever.  It was a great running shot on a pig at over 50 yards.

By now it was noon and was heating up so we cleaned Dad's pig and packed it out to the truck  At the truck we found a little excitement.  Tom had been napping in the truck and before we returned, he heard someone lightly stepping up by the rear of the pickup.  He eased his head up and saw a Mexican sneaking along examining the truck.    The bandito came around and stuck his head into the window, right into the muzzle of Tom's Trooper!  What a great day hunting.  Tom was able to get a Javelina and a Mexican bandit all on the same day! 

The next day we were out again.  Tom was hiking with me for moral support.    Dad stayed home but Marlin, Keith and Chris were all raring to go.  We went back into the hills in basically the same spot and eased up through the ridges, watching listening and hoping.

An hour or so into the hunt I saw some pigs on a brushy hillside several hundred yards up in front of us.  We eased our way through the tangle toward them until we came to clear spot.  It was open from here on and dropped down into a gully before starting back up toward the pigs.  It was only about 75 or 80 yards across so I laid down and leaned back on my left elbow and laid the gun alongside my upraised right knee.  A nice-size pig walked out into the opening and was completely sideways to me.  Never one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, I put the sights on it and shot.  At the shot a large fan of spray came from the offside of the pig, sort of rainbow-shaped.  It started to shake all over, walked a few steps and then fell down.  When it did, a HUGE pig ran out of the brush above and was gone.

We worked our way over and found the pig I had shot to be a nice-sized sow.  The shot was little far back, behind the diaphragm, but still was effective.  I used the Keith #454424 SWC cast of wheelweights and driven by 18.5 gr. 2400 out of my Ruger Blackhawk.  This is a nice accurate and hard-hitting load.  While we were cleaning the sow there was a shot above us on the hill and later found Keith Hill had shot a pig that we had chased out.  We talked with Chris and Marlin and they decided to stay out and hunt while we went back.

Just about dark Chris and Marlin came roaring up the road to the house.  They had a large boar in the back of truck.  It had not been cleaned.  When I asked why, they said they did not want to get bloody!  So instead they packed 20 extra pounds a mile and a half.  Marlin had shot the pig through the shoulders with his .44 Magnum.    Chris ran up to it and shot it several times with his .357 hitting it in the front foot, the jaw and the ear.  When I asked "Why?" he said it was making a funny noise and he thought it might be about to bite him.  I thought about explaining to him that any one of us would make a funny noise if shot through the lungs with a .44, but gave it up. When I skinned the pig I found it had been shot previously in the back leg by a muzzleloader. I dug the ball out and it measured about .40 caliber.  To top it off, Chris and Marlin had tagged the pig with the instructions (you tear them off the top of the license) and thrown the license away. 

Ah...tenderfeet.  I love 'em.  But it was a good hunt.  And we still have some good laughs over it.  Later on Miss Twyla made some of the best tamales and green chile burros out of those pigs.  My mouth still waters. The year was 1984 and in some ways seems like eons ago.