At five in the afternoon we tracked him down. Hot and humid. He was sleeping in the thicket. I immediately noticed his weapons, huge and well intact, and I pulled Jean Luc down, but: too late! Already aware of our presence, the boar was gone in a flash, leaving us to listen to his rambling through the undergrowth. Hunting feaver grabbed Jean Luc – I want this one! Slowly, very slowly we stalked him. The grass was still damp, as was the bush and we made good progress due to the schooled eye of the tracker. Then we saw him hidden behind a bush and on guard. Abraham dropped down and stomachs to the ground we tried to close up to him. Thick bush required us getting as close as 70 to 80 metres. The boar was alarmed – as he picked up his head we could make out his strong brows. The animal was puzzled, became restless. Jean Luc you only have one chance, shoot! Jean Luc nimbly picked himself up and got himself into a crouching position. A shot rang out, the boar reared and dropped dead on the spot. Jean Luc was short of breath, his pulse racing. Hunter’s Luck! A shot straight through the heart!

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