While driven hunts sometimes occur in the US, in Europe, they are frequently used to control animal numbers in a forested region. The basic concept is that a line of drivers spaced out perhaps 50 yards apart will purposefully walk, making noise, and driving game towards a line of stationary shooters positioned at the far end of an area. Hopefully, all game within the driven zone will run by at least one of the shooters who may get a chance for a snap shot as the game approaches head on, or runs by his side. Several years ago. I was invited by Steyr Mannlicher to participate as a hunter/shooter on a driven boar hunt in eastern Austria near the Czech border.
Chapter 1: Amazing Preparation
I was one of seven hunters to arrive in a transport van early in the morning at the hunting location. We pulled into a grassy valley that bordered a forest to the north. The woods were gently rolling hills with only perhaps 10 – 15 foot changes in elevation, and having a blend of both pines and broadleaf trees. As we stopped and got out, I could not believe what I saw. There must have been over two dozen personal vehicles, three to four dozen men milling about, and at least twelve dogs.
As it turns out, to run a proper driven hunt for boars, all of these resources are needed. Seven of the men would be guides who would sit in the high stands, one for each hunter. Everyone else was there to perform as drivers. The dogs were assisting during the drive and would help to track any wounded animals. Quite a few of the drivers were issued .40 caliber pistols in case they came across a wounded boar. I think I would have been more comfortable with something bigger.
Everyone was dressed for the hunt, all wearing forest green wool hunting clothes with many wearing versions of a Bavarian hat. These were banded, adorned with feathers, and small animal figurines of creatures they had hunted in the past. Not a single person was wearing a baseball hat! While a few of the men were in their mid-thirties, the vast majority appeared to be 50 to 60 years old or older. A few spoke some English, but most only spoke German. They all seemed very serious and like they had done this many times before. As the sun was barely rising, we all gathered around as the owner of the land,
began to explain how the hunt would progress. He would be acting as the Jagdherr, or
the drive hunt manager, dictating the game he wants...
harvested.
The area of the forest we were hunting was 200 – 300 acres, and had been fenced in to keep the boars from getting out into the nearby crops. Each hunter/shooter (and there were only seven of us) would be assigned a guide who would be with us all the time. Due to the terrain, high stands had been built to allow for safe shooting in any direction you could see. It was impossible to see, or be in the line of fire, of any other stand. About six feet off the ground, they were surprisingly large, being about 4 x 6 feet in size, with a railing all around and a full bench across the back. The hunt would begin at exactly 7 a.m., and we would hunt until 11:30, at which time all guns must be unloaded. We’d then all head back to the barn for a lunch break, and the afternoon hunt would run from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m.
Besides Russian boars, there were also some Mouflon sheep that could be taken, and fox, but no deer were allowed. As winter was approaching, the desire was to reduce game numbers to a level which the land could safely support since food availability diminishes during the snowy cold. As stated by the landowner, all boar of either sex
except sows with young spotted piglets were fair game to achieve this balance. The almost three dozen drivers would be wearing bright orange safety vests, and we could
shoot only under the verbal direction of our guides.
The hunters were all issued beautiful Steyr Mannlicher Classic full-stocks in 9.3×62 caliber, a very popular European cartridge for boar hunting, and especially for driven hunts. Slightly larger than a .35 Whelen, it fires a 258 grain bullet almost as fast as a .30-06 pushes a 180 grain, so we had plenty of power to do the job. They were topped with Kahles 1-4 power illuminated scopes, with a German #4 reticle. This looks like a duplex, but the left, right, and bottom portion of the crosshair is three or four times
thicker than normal for fast and easy target acquisition. When turned on, there was a glowing red dot in the center. I could not imagine a better setup for the task at hand. We had been able to test fire the rifles the day before, and when I placed my first three shots dead on at 100 meters...
into a group less than a half-inch, I was very impressed with how well a 20” barreled full-stock rifle could shoot.
Again, the impression was that many things had to be performed in correct sequence, traditions, and actions
As the introduction came to a close, I looked around and was amazed at all the effort it had taken to amass the nearly fifty people that it took to make this driven hunt possible. To say that it was being executed like a carefully planned military exercise would be an understatement. I could not even begin to imagine what this all cost to put on for the seven hunters. That I was an invited guest and able to experience something few Americans ever would humbled me greatly. I wondered how many of the drivers could even afford to participate as a fortunate hunter. I’m sure many may never have had the honor of sitting in the high stands and have others drive game towards them.
At the close of the introduction, the start of the hunt was announced by the sounding of the horns. Everyone stands in silence as ten men play a simple tune, which announces the beginning of the hunt. Again, the impression was that many things had to be performed in correct sequence, tradition, and action, which showed this was a very special event with exact expectations.
So as we broke up and departed for our positions, I grew quite anxious. I didn’t have much experience shooting at running game. Most of my hunting had been done in the western US, where critters tend to be standing broadside. But in just minutes, the upcoming frenzy was going to be something I’ve never experienced before. The pressure to perform well in front of others was starting to weigh heavily on my mind.
Chapter 2: The Drive Begins
Peter, my guide, and I began to walk back into the forest. Behind us, I could see the drivers and the dogs spreading out in preparation of the start. It took us about fifteen minutes to get to our high stand where we promptly climbed up to await the start of the drive, signified by one long blow of a horn. Our stand was situated in a gentle wooded valley with a rise up behind us, and the ground sloping away in front of us, and to the left from where we first came. To our right, the ground sloped up slowly, blending in to the rise behind us. It seemed like most all game would probably be coming from our...
left.
Once we settled in, Peter told me to chamber a round, put the safety on, and await the start of the hunt. Then, just moments later, off in the distance to our far left, we heard the long slow blow of the horn. Immediately, the distant drivers’ shouts and calls could be heard as they headed into the forest, even though they were quite a ways off. Within less than five minutes, we heard a distant first shot and then another, but the drivers were still nowhere near us yet. I was constantly scanning the woods, looking for wild boars, imagining one coming from behind that tree, or two from under this bush, but nothing came for quite a while.
Boar, boar, boar, is all I can think, then suddenly a nice Mouflon ram breaks into view at about 40 yards, running flat out in front of us from left to right. I didn’t even have time to react and get my rifle up before he was gone in an instant. Peter was quite kind. All he whispered to me was, “Nice ram.” Rather flustered, I reminded myself that Mouflon are also on the approved list, and I’d better calm down some and remain focused on leading and follow through, when I get to take my first shot.
Boar, boar, boar, is all I can think of… when suddenly a nice Mouflon ram breaks into view
Things remained quiet for a while, when suddenly a boar broke out behind us, running not 15 yards from the stand. At the same time, two burst from low bushes straight in front of us, running flat out and disappeared into the trees to our right. Again, before I could even get my rifle up. While in my mind it was happening in slow motion, in real time it was all over in just a few seconds. I’m sure at this point, Peter was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get off a shot!
About ten minutes later, we could hear a boar running towards us from the left, from where the drivers were working their way up. I already had my rifle at the ready, and with little movement the red dot was on his shoulder. I forced myself to lead him by swinging the dot to the leading edge of his chest, just as he crossed directly in front of us at around 40 yards. Continuing my swing, I touched off a shot and down went the 150 lb. boar, rolling in the leaves and lying motionless. Peter patted me on the back, but said not a word. We heard more coming. The drivers are getting much closer.
...
Just as we thought it was all over, one more straggler came into view and stopped, partially obscured by brush. I had enough of a window to shoot, and got to take a standing 50 yard shot. He rolled over and tried to get up, but then all is quiet. About ten minutes later, a small group of boars went rushing past behind us, too far and too fast to shoot, paralleling the rise and continuing to head north.
A half hour later, we could hear that some of the drivers had made their way up behind us, and were now beginning to come down the rise. Moments later, in anticipation that they may drive some boars to us, I was ready just as four boars break out to the far right, and rushing through the brush in front of us, headed downhill to our left. I kept swinging and shooting, and was very happy to drop three of the four that tried to run past, cleanly missing the last one. He was very motivated to get out of there in a hurry. Peter was quite excited and repeatedly said, “Gud shooting!”
Since there was no game in the immediate area after all of that shooting, we got down and lined up all the boars about 25 yards from the front of the high stand, all in a nice row. They were all medium sized, running 100 to 150 lbs. or so. Shortly after that, a group of the drivers passed by as we look down from the stand. They happily smiled and waved to us as they looked and walked past the five boars we had taken so far. Peter smiled at me and nodded his approval. We had done well that morning.
They’re all medium sized, running 100 to 150 lbs. or so
Four long blows of a horn, signaled that the morning hunt was over. I unload my rifle, and we both climbed down to inspect the boars again. I asked if we would field dress them, but Peter said some of the drivers would be back with a vehicle; they would drive around the forest collecting the morning harvest. We just needed to head back down to the barn for the meal. I was continually amazed at all that goes into making a driven hunt come off so very well.
Chapter 3: Lunch Break
There was considerable excitement back at the barn. It seemed that the hunt was...
going very well, and all stands reported taking several animals. Many of the drivers who passed by our stand, and saw the boars I’d taken, stopped by to congratulate me. Others, whom were not driving in that area, also came by, and asked me to tell the story of my
trophies. I felt great fellowship from all around. Everyone who helped to make the drive so successful was there because their love of the hunt.
Again, I sensed the order to everything that happened in the morning, the great planning and care taken to ensure the safety and enjoyment of all, and that the game would be treated with respect and honor. What happened much later that night is an amazing experience I’ll never forget.
All the time we were eating and discussing the morning, I thought of the dozen or so drivers that volunteered to gather up the trophies, field dress them, and bring them in from the forest. They did this while we feasted and told stories. Never in my life could I have imagined being able to harvest five wild Russian boar in Austria in just one morning, having only taken a couple of wild pigs in Texas and Tennessee many years ago.
Finally, after the drivers who tended to the morning game came to the barn to enjoy some food and rest, we briefly went over how the afternoon portion of the hunt would go. To be fair, all hunters would change to another high stand, giving everyone a little change in terrain and opportunity. We would be hunting from 2 p.m. until 5 p.m., at which point a wonderful day of hunting must come to an end. The hesitation and pressure to perform that I felt in the morning, had all but disappeared. I cdould't wait to see where Peter and I would be stationed and what the afternoon would bring.
Chapter 4: Big Boar, Many Boars
In the morning, Peter and I were in the far northwest corner of the forest. In the afternoon, we would be hunting in the central, eastern portion. Our high stand was located just off the north side of a dirt trail that ran east to west. To the north were heavy woods; to the east ran the trail, up into more hilly woods. Immediately to the south, there was a six-foot rise just above the trail, making it almost at the height of our stand. From there, the ground leveled out for about 50 yards distance, and then rose farther up as the base of a hill. To the west, the trail dropped off lightly to a shallow lowland area. We had much greater visibility in almost every...
direction in comparison to the morning stand, so I was looking forward to getting more notice when boars were driven to us. In the morning, it wore heavy on my nerves to not know where boars would next be bursting from the bushes.
To the north were heavy woods; to the east ran the trail, up into more hilly woods
From there, the ground leveled out for about 50 yards distant, and then rose further up as the base of a hill. To the west, the trail dropped off lightly, to a shallow lowland area. We had much greater visibility in almost every direction, in comparison to the morning stand, so I was looking forward to getting more notice, when boars were driven to us. In the morning it wore heavy on my nerves, never knowing where boars, would next be bursting from the bushes.
After allowing enough time for all hunters and guides to settle in, the single long blow of a horn signaled the beginning of the afternoon drive. Right from the start, you could tell that the game was wise to what was going on. For the first hour or so, every boar we saw was moving along at great speed, and all were far from our stand. As one boar came out of the woods to the north, heading for the trail, I shot him just he stepped onto the flats. Instantly he whirled around and headed back from where he came, but we heard him crash and fall into the bushes just a short distance in. A half hour later, another came from the south, crossed the trail and was heading to the lowlands when I hit him from behind at a quartering away angle. He also made it just into the woods where we heard him tumble over in the leaves. Boar number seven for the day was down for good.
For the rest of the afternoon, we’d occasionally see pairs of drivers walk within a hundred yards of our stand, but apparently the boar were holding up pretty tight. Then at around 4 o’clock, Peter heard over the radio that a large boar had been wounded in the morning and was still not recovered. Thoughts were that it was in the heavy woods just to the north of our stand. So at that time, two drivers came from the south, waved to us as they crossed the trail, and then dropped down into the heavy woods.
Not ten minutes later we heard a volley of pistol shots… POW! POW! POW! POW! POW! And then at least another half dozen more. Later, we find out that they spotted the boar in some heavy brush, and as they approached, he had a...
go at both drivers. The little .40 caliber pistols had to do some fast talking to sort things out, and fortunately, no one was hurt.
As it neared the end of hunting time, we were still hopeful another boar or two might come our way. Things were pretty quiet, until we heard several drivers shouting something in German over and over. Peter perked up and looked to the south, up on the flats, just above the trail.
“What are they shouting?” I asked him?
“Big boar! Big boar!” was his reply…
POW! POW! POW! POW! POW! And then at least another half dozen more
I turned around just in time to see a very large boar break out onto the flats with two drivers maybe 75 yards behind him well to the far left. As he walks to our right, up
went the Mannlicher, off went the safety, and I slammed him in the last rib as he is quartering hard away from me. He bucked and bounced, trotted a short distance, so I hit him again. Hit hard, instead of running off, he actually turned back towards us, so I hit him the last time on the point of the left shoulder as he’s quartering towards us. He took but a few steps and falls over just as the drivers got up to him shouting in excitement!
Peter and I rushed down from the stand and were met by the happy drivers, as we approached my trophy. They were speaking rapidly in German, and I could tell they were very impressed by the boar’s size. He was well over 250 lbs. and had very good tusks. His hide was dark, but also had considerable grey in his coat, showing he was of an older age. They quickly congratulated me, but then Peter said we must head back to the stand. We still had about twenty minutes of hunting left. The drivers said to just leave the boar. He was only 40 yards from the trail, and could easily be retrieved when hunting closes. So off they went to continue their driving, as we climbed back into the stand.
Fifteen minutes left to hunt, then ten, then five. Peter said it’s time to get down. The hunt would be over in just a few minutes, and nothing had been moving. We climbed down, getting out of the east side of the stand. Peter was gathering up his pack and getting ready to go have another look at my big boar. I happened to glance to the east, and saw three good sized boars about 100 yards distance, walking directly towards us down the trail, and then disappear as the trail dips down below...
several hills in front of us. At that time, we were too far from the stand to go back to it, so Peter told me to walk towards them behind the first hill, and when they came into view, take any if I could. I reloaded my 9.3 Steyr and started to slowly walk down the trail, towards where I‘d last seen them.
I happened to glance to the east, and see three good sized boars about 100 yards distant
It turns out, there were three or four small undulating hills between us and them. As I got to the top of the hill nearest our stand, with my Mannlicher at the ready and my scope turned on, a good sized boar came trotting over the second hill from me at about 60 yards. Just as I took aim on the center of his chest, two more came up over the hill. I quickly fired and reloaded, fired and reloaded, then fired my third shot and reloaded. Peter came running up from behind me to see three boars lying in the trail as I stood there with my rifle and three empty brass cases on the ground!
He looks at the boars, then looks at me, then back at the boars, and then back at me.
“You Americans sure can shoot!” I have never seen such a thing in my life!”
Barely a minute later, as we walked up to examine them, we heard the horn signaling the end of the hunt. The two drivers who had seen me take the large boar came running up the trail.
“We thought there was great trouble- it sounded like someone had an automatic rifle! Now we see that you are just a good shot, and very fast too!”
All three Austrians just stood there laughing at the American who had shot his bolt action rifle so very fast, and dropped three fine boars where they stood not 20 feet apart from each other. Peter said that made boars number nine, ten, and eleven- outstanding for a single day. They all congratulated me and said the boars would be easy to find for the drivers who would come to pick them up. They stated with some excitement that the layout ceremony would be very large from this hunt. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but would find out later that evening. Peter and I then headed down the trail, back to the barn full of successful hunters and drivers.
Chapter 5: Evening Layout Ceremony
Back at the barn, there was much celebration as food was consumed, and the drinking could now begin since all of the rifles had been put...
away for the day. With most of the conversation being in German, I couldn't understand much of what was being said, but the tone let me know that everyone was very excited. Showing great manners, they talked freely amongst themselves, speaking German, but as soon as an American walked up to a group, they began speaking English. Four of the other hunters in the seven man hunting party were famous American gun writers, and the other two gentlemen were senior members of an Austrian Army sniper team. I felt very special to have been invited to participate in this well-executed driven hunt..
After about an hour of eating and drinking, we’re told it is time for the Strecke, or the layout ceremony
After about an hour of eating and drinking, we were told it was time for the Strecke, or the layout ceremony. Everyone got quieter and began filing out. The Austrian hosts thought she should be able to observe the ceremony. We walked a short ways down a path that was quickly getting dark as the sun was dropping below the horizon. Finally, clearing a stand of large trees, we suddenly saw an opening to our left, and it was truly a sight to behold.
In an area approximately fifteen by twenty-five yards, all of the game taken that day was respectfully laid out in perfect rows on a huge bed of pine tree branches. It must’ve taken an entire tree to cover the ground in such a way. All of the animals had been field dressed, cleaned, and lay resting on their right side. The few foxes taken were
at the front, then some Mouflon sheep behind them, then all of the boars- males first, from large to small- and then the females behind them.
It’s obvious this took considerable effort and time, and was done with great respect. In each corner of the rectangle, was an elevated cage-like basket full of burning wood from the forest to provide illumination of the game. At the back of the laydown bedding stood ten horn players who began to play Jagd Vorbei, or “End of the Hunt”, as everyone removed their hats and stood in silence.
By now, it was black outside. The rows and rows of game lay peacefully on the bed of pine, and there was total silence, except for the music of the horns. The four metal baskets beautifully illuminated the solemn scene. It’s very hard to not be deeply moved, by the respect the Austrians showed to the game we had harvested that day.
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I congratulate all of the hunters, and thank those who worked so hard, to make this such an incredibly successful hunt today
When the music stopped, the landowner, who today served as the Jagdherr, or the drive hunt manager, began to speak.
“Today was an exceptional day, Seven hunters harvested sixty-three trophies on my forest land. And while the normal ratio is five to six rounds fired for each game taken, today when we counted all shots, an average of only 1.3 rounds were fired per trophy. Under very challenging shooting conditions, this is an exceptional performance, which we’ve never seen before. I congratulate all of the hunters, and thank those who worked so hard to make this such an incredibly successful hunt today. All of this edible game will go to restaurants and be enjoyed by many people for weeks to come. And now, as we had hoped, the remaining animals will have a better chance to make it through the winter as the taking of these fine creatures will improve the chances of the ones left behind.”
I squeezed my wife’s hand and had a very hard time keeping tears from welling up in my eyes. As I stood there, taking in and reflecting on the blessing of having participated in such a hunt with people who have shown great and sincere respect for the game we were allowed to take from the forest, I felt great honor to have been a part of it all.
I don’t think any hunting experience I have ever had, or ever will, could even come close to what I experienced that day, as an invited guest of some of the finest hunters I’ve ever met.
