On the drive out a car came down the dirt access road to meet me. However, I figured that my two shots would probably have alerted any wild dogs and boar in the area, so I decided to have an early one. The sun was still in the sky and I thought about sitting there until dark. It looked like the pair had died three or four days prior. Whether the cow died in calving or was killed by wild dogs, I could not tell. Nearby was the carcass of the calfвЂ™s mother. It lay on top of the remains of a dead calf, another example of wild dog hunting success with 257 Weatherby Magnum. The bare metal of the eyepiece is rather sharp, and that is more the cause of my mishap than anything else.ДЄnyway, I walked up the dog I had shot. A few months ago the rubber protector on the eyepiece came adrift and was lost. I hunt four or five times a week and, each time, the rifle gets dragged out of the gun box, through barbed wire fences and sometimes thick, clawing scrub. Who would have thought that the mild-mannered 257 Weatherby Magnum would be my nemesis?ДЄctually, if the rubber eye protector had still been on the scope I reckon I would have gotten away with that awkward shot. Along the way, I have had the opportunity to shoot a lot of big calibres from the 460 Weatherby Magnum downwards. In that time I have fired many shots from powerful big game rifles, including at least a thousand maximum loads from my 458 Win Mag. I have been shooting for 55 years, a number that surprises even me. Here I was with my first dose of Weatherby Eyebrow. Then I realised it was not sweat, but blood. Another trickle tickled my nose and I swiped that too. It disappeared over the crest in great haste.ДЄ trickle of what I thought was sweat tickled my nose and I brushed it with the back of my hand. A big puff of dust framed the dog for a brief moment, but other than to increase its speed, there was no other effect from my shot. It was an awkward position to shoot from and the scope gave me a smack on the recoil. I rolled into a prone position and, aiming uphill at an angle of about 40 degrees, gave it some lead and tried a running shot. I made a yelping call, but the dog only hesitated for a split second and kept galloping uphill. The second dog surprised me by running up the steep slope of the spur, toward the crest of the ridge, rather than down onto the floodplain.

I squeezed the trigger and released a 110 grain Nosler Accubond at bit more than 3,300 fps. It seemed to be feeding on something lying in the grass. Plonking myself down on the ground, I extended the bipod legs and chambered a round in my Vanguard 257 Weatherby Magnum.Д¬ranking the magnification of the Swarovski 2.5-15Г—56 scope up to near maximum, I zeroed in on the furthest wild dog. Glancing to my right I immediately spotted two black wild dogs mooching about in the grass, about halfway up the slope, around 150 metres away. I rounded the spur that ruins down to the creek from a high ridge on my right.

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