Hot and muggy literally take your breath away. Ennio's invitation to accompany him on the hunt is very welcome! Our friend selecontroller of the species boar hunting in the mountains in the Pollino National Park. We gladly join it for the pleasure of the company, for a day of hunting and, I don't deny it, to enjoy a little refreshment! The area assigned today is quite large and with a varied panorama. However, the complete view is impossible to obtain. The lower post offers a hay bale overlooking a beautiful alfalfa field. Positioning higher, you have a large herbarium with an alfalfa corner. One excludes the other. We therefore decide to separate, to multiply the possibilities of sighting. Vincenzo and I remain at the top, while Ennio and his Blaser head down towards the alfalfa. We remain alone, in the company of our binoculars, to observe the tongue of scrub that crosses the field in front of us. In the center there is a hole, a fairly wide passage, apparently popular and very promising. With the naked eye, a “roe deer” dot draws our attention. The lenses of the Noctivid confirm that it is a female. It is at 290 meters, eating and walking begins to approach, always along the tongue of the central bush. It reaches 140 meters, then disappears. The left end of my field of vision warns us of the presence of another roe. With the naked eye you can see that it is a male, in binoculars it becomes a handsome adult. From how he behaves it is clear that he has neither seen nor "perceived" us. But something does not convince him, he stops for a moment to jump into the woods.
The female, "pufff", reappeared in the field, as if by magic, without us seeing her pass. As soon as I intercept it with the binoculars, it starts running again towards the spot. "She must have been scared of something”I think, and I'm getting ready to see the handsome male again from just before in a summer amusement carousel. Instead the female comes out again on the field, with cautious steps, turns often ... is followed by two little ones! We are delighted to observe the loving care of the mother and the playful movements of the little ones. I occasionally look away to check the rest of the field and for more than half an hour we stay in the company of the little family. A noise on my right anticipates Ennio's appearance by a few seconds. His gaze exudes disappointment and regret: a farmer, taking advantage of the last lights, showed up in the field below. Apologizing to Ennio, he began collecting straw and giving shape to the golden sculptures that stand on the stubble in summer.
No! What a cancellation! Right now, at the peak time! It is not far enough to spare even this stakeout, even here certainly nothing will come out. Objectively our exit went to pieces, with this unexpected visit from the farmer. But what's the point of leaving now? We just have to stop, if only for the coolness that you breathe, and wait for it to get dark. That faint, imperceptible, illogical glimmer of hope is always lit in the depths of the hunter's heart, even when circumstances scream, by logic, that there is no hope. The night begins at the edge of the forest and slowly invades the fields. It carries the first stars behind it as the curtain closes on our expulsion. On the top of the field up there, where I used to see the roe deer, I see two dark spots. They seem to be moving, and just before they weren't there. "The wild boars!"I exclaim.
Without taking my eyes off the point, I pull up the binoculars and other reddish silhouettes are added to the lenses. A herd of over ten wild boars start rooting nervously with quick shots. We consult quickly with Ennio. No hesitation: we have to approach them! Not so much for the 330 meters that separate us but for the fact that they approached the dark edge of the forest and at times they are no longer visible. We begin to climb. After a first stretch of open field, in which we are hidden by the hump of the hill, we have to cross a clearing in the woods. From there we should come out right in front of the wild boars.
Leaves and branches along the way could betray our presence. When we get under the opening that leads to the camp, we stop. Ennio opens the stool and places the backpack on top. Now you can't see anything with the naked eye, they seem to be gone! But with binoculars they can be seen entering and exiting the edge of the field. Ennio makes two attempts to engage them with optics. Turn on the red dot. The closest animal is not the largest, certainly not the dominant sow. We telemetry 82 meters, a more than safe distance given the darkness. The animal is a postcard. I hold my breath with the binoculars in my hand as if I were shooting. My pat on Ennio's shoulder is almost synchronous with the thud of the rifle and the instantaneous collapse of the boar. The rest of the herd, instead of dispersing, remains petrified, and then moves a few meters. The situation would be favorable for a second felling, but for this evening we already have an excellent reason to thank the starry sky of the Pollino.
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