Back in the mid 1990s, I hunted hogs with dogs at Clarkrange Hunting Lodge in Clarkrange, Tenn.
The first morning of the hunt, we jumped up a nice reddish-colored boar with nasty tusks. I decided it was a shooter, so I found a good rest on a tree, squeezed the trigger on the .54 caliber Traditions muzzleloader, and out came the smoke.
All I could see was that something was running toward me and I assumed it was 175 pounds of tusks and rage, so I started up the tree. Thankfully, it was just one of the dogs realizing the hog was dead and its work was done.
On the way back to the cabin, the dogs jumped up another hog to which the guide said, “I think it’s the Satan hog!”
Well, that got my attention.
“Could you please explain to me what exactly is the Satan hog?” I asked.
“It’s this black boar that charges unprovoked and has killed several dogs. It almost got me once and we haven’t been able to kill it,” he said.
I for some reason thought it might be a good idea to go photograph this hog if the dogs had it bayed up.
Bad idea!
As soon as we arrived on the scene, this black hog, which was only around 150-pounds, ran straight at me, forcing me to seek refuge in a tree. I did notice it hooked as it ran by. As soon as the dogs got it again, I jumped back down and started shooting photos and got charged again. Just as I started to think this was a really bad idea, the hog took off and the dogs behind it but they soon returned. They simply could not hold the beast.
“Man, that Satan hog is something else,” I said to my guide.
“No, that wasn’t it. I’ve never seen that one before. The Satan hog is a whole lot meaner than that,” he said.
You can’t make some of this stuff up.
Chester Moore
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