[Ravensfort] Story of a Boar Hunt - A True Tale of the Vinlandish Folkway -

[Kief av Kiersted]

Heilsa neighbors and friends - kith and kin...

Here is a tale that bears reading. I know this man...have sat with him
and shared Holy Mead. Most of the Folk mentioned in this story I have
met with as well... Their Worth is beyond price...

Wæs Þu Hæl in FriÞ through TroÞ
Kief
"Better the Hammer than the nail..."

********************
Michael M. - My story - Boar Hunt, memories

Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2002
From: "Michael M"
Subject: My story

Boar Hunt, memories
Michael M.

As an ex journalist, I find it beyond interesting now, sitting here at
my computer, and remembering the Hunt we all shared. Perhaps it is the
after affects of the adrenaline, the entire experience, that much of it
seems to blur together. What follows are my best recollections of the
Hunt we shared at least the parts of it I participated in and saw. If I
left anything or anyone out, I apologize.

We arrived at the Hunt site, about an hour after sunrise, around eight
A.M. The weather, not nearly so clear or warm as it had been predicted,
was much more suited to the extreme amounts of activity that we were
about to engage in. It was about forty degrees, and cloudy.

We got out of our vehicles, and the guides looking over at my truck,
asked what that sound was coming from it. Bagpipes.

As we started taking out our spears, which had all been loaded into my
truck for convenience, it became immediately apparent, looking into the
Hunting area, that the throwing spears that we had worked so hard to
master and brought with us, would be completely useless. The young
forest and thickets in it were entirely to thick and close to allow any
throwing to work. We each gathered our water and provisions, and picked
up only our Boar Spears, thrusting spears, and started to spread things
out along the fence line so that we could get to them easily from the
inside.

As we did this, I asked Skarp if he thought I might, or should, take my
Claymore and make it available to me, just in case the opportunity
arose to use it. He said that sounded like a good thought, so I took it
from my truck. The guides caught sight of it, and were very curious, so
I showed them the sword, seventeen and a half pounds of sharp steel.
They were impressed, and thought that I should take it in and use it
only to hunt with. I declined, and said I might later, after I got some
idea of how the Boar behaved. My main concern and doubt about using the
sword was it's length and weight, my comparative size, and the terrain.
I wasn't sure I could keep up with the Boar and the other Hunters
carrying it in the woods. I left it behind, leaning on the fence with
my canteen.

As Skarp and I, and the guides were talking, we found out that there
were actually thirteen boars in the forest, not the six we had
expected. Ten of us, good odds. As we gathered to enter the
seventy-four acre wood lot, we talked over various ideas of how to
proceed. The guides suggested that we spread out in a line and make a
sweep, staying in sight of each other, to get a feel for the land and
to see if we could spot the Boar. This was one of our plans which had
been discussed, and we had also agreed that this was to be a team
effort, with each of the Hunters backing up his Brothers, to ensure the
safety of all of us, as well as quick kills.

As we climbed the fence, each holding the Spear of our Brother while we
crossed, I could feel the excitement and anticipation building. We
started out into the forest, entering through a thicket, single file
here, as it was too dense to see far. I felt my senses quicken,
searching the limited view for signs of movement, looking for the Boar,
wondering if they would move away from us as they heard us coming, or
charge. We walked with sufficient space between us to be safe, keeping
the razor sharp, long blades of our spears safely away from each other.


As we cleared the thicket, we spread out into a line, roughly twenty
yards between us. We moved forward through the forest, searching for
the boar. As we moved through the forest, I could feel my senses
quicken. What to expect? No one really knew yet.

As we neared the far edge of the hunting grounds, a boar was sighted.
It was somewhere in between Magni, who was to my right, and me. It ran
toward the fence line and open trails. Magni caught up with it as it
turned, and got first blood by sticking it in it's hind quarters as
both of them ran. The boar squealed loudly and turned left, crossing in
front of me. As it did, Matt stepped out in front of it, about 15-20
yards away. The Boar stopped, and turned directly toward me and
charged. I swear I could see it looking at Magni, and then Matt, both
considerably larger than I, and decide to charge the little guy.

As it charged, I sidestepped to it's left and thrust my spear into it's
chest as it passed. The sight that followed was exactly the one I had
had in a dream about the hunt. Nothing but red in front of my eyes as I
hit it in the lungs, and bright red foam gushed forth, covering my
spear and hands.

The boar pulled free and kept going, and was met by Skarp, Matt,
Vanirwolf and Mitch who had moved in to cover our rear and flank. They
stuck it and finished it off.

As the outfitter arrived to field dress it and examine it, we realized
it was a sow. Dave pointed out to us that Boar was the breed, and that
sow and hog were the sexes. I realized that when one was charging you,
it was very difficult to determine it's gender.

At this time, I also got a good whiff of the scent of the boar, which I
will never forget. It was good to know what they smelled like, as I
could the use the wind direction and scent to help locate them.

I recall, at this time, feeling proud to have gotten blood so soon, and
a bit relieved that I was able to handle being charged. I was also
slightly disappointed, as we had agreed that those who were blooded
would hang back and drive the boar towards those who had not. One kill
down and I had to hang back a bit. As things worked out, this was
really not much of an issue.

We reformed our skirmish line, and continued sweeping the woods. There
was discussion concerning how best to do it, and we started along one
fence line and moved again through the forest. I recall being between
Skarp and Vanirwolf, most of the time, with Matt always near by.

The next boar that was killed was done quickly, by Skarp and Matt. I
got there after the fact.

Through the sweeps and chasing the boar, I noticed some things
happening to me. One was that I was running through the woods like I
hadn't done since I was a teen. Nothing hurt, none of the old wounds
that I had accumulated over the years. I felt great, and couldn't wait
for the next encounter with the boar. My senses seemed to be
heightened. I could smell the boar when I got down wind or near them. I
had noticed similar sensual awareness while deer hunting, hearing the
wind pass through the wings of geese overhead, and the munching of the
deer as they foraged and approached. This was even more intense. Often
it seemed I could sense and hear the thoughts of the other hunters and
the guides as we flushed and chased the boar. I also seemed to be
either 'hearing' or having memories of just what to do, how to move,
where to go. Ancestral voices or memories perhaps?

As we were standing next to the first kill, taking a breather and
discussing tactics, I noticed that the gut pile was gone. I also
thought I could smell boar close by, and not the dead one at our feet.
I stepped a few feet away, upwind, and sure enough, boar on the breeze.
Then it struck me. The other boars were following us, eating the guts
of the dead. A good thing to know. I realized that this was becoming
exactly what we had asked for. The Warrior Boars, sent by the Tiergeist
to fight with us. They were faster, bigger, and smart. Worthy
opponents.

We moved out again, and were called over to one corner, where the
outfitter had located a couple of the Boars. He was standing where he
could see them. We spread out, those with blood moving to cover those
who had none, and to block obvious escape routes.

Jason, Yngona and I positioned ourselves next to a trail along the edge
of the woods, behind a deadfall, out of sight of the boar. As the other
hunters moved in, I heard them yelling, "They're moving!" and then
Mitch holler," He 's got my spear!" As we tensed and waited to spring
out at the Boar as they tried to escape, I saw a large one run passed,
the broken end of Mitch's spear shaft sticking out of it's side,
followed immediately by two more. Jason and Yngona lunged at the last
two, but missed, as the boars flew passed, ducking and feinting as they
passed us.

Jason and Yngona gave chase. As I didn't think that they had drawn
blood yet, I held back. Skarp came up, running, and I followed him.

Not far up the trail, we found Jason and Yngona next to the dead boar,
another sow it turned out, Mitch's broken shaft still protruding from
it's side. They were discussing how to proceed.

As Skarp and I got there, we saw the other two boar come out of the
woods and run down the trail, and we chased them. I let out a primal
war scream, feeling incredibly invigorated at the thought of another
conflict. This was one of those moments for me that made most other
moments in life pale. This was living!

There had been a moment previously, as Skarp and I looked at each other
over the body of a dead boar, and it seemed to me that the veil of
centuries was lifted, and that we had done this before. We saw in each
other's eyes the thrill, triumph, and lust for more battle, and a
recognition of a brother in arms we had seen before, but not this
openly, or this intensely. He and I had done this before.

As we neared the other end of the woods, we lost sight of the boars.
They had apparently run into the thicket that was there. We had been
warned, and knew well the potential danger of a close encounter in the
dense thickets. They made moving difficult, the boar nearly impossible
to see until you were nearly on top of them. The thickets were also
very dense, and it was very difficult to maneuver the long thrusting
spears quickly in them.

As we neared the corner, Skarp turned to skirt one side of the thicket,
and I the other. Other hunters were yelling ahead of us that they had
found one of the boars. As we started to head in their direction, I
heard Skarp yell "Fuck! Mike! He is right here!', and point to the
ground. There, in a depression, lay a huge boar, hiding, waiting for us
to pass him by. I turned toward him, both Skarp and I not more than a
dozen feet from him on two sides, and replied, "Fuck!"

We decided to keep him there and let the few other hunters who had not
drawn blood yet arrive, to take the first attack on him. Bjorn arrived
soon, and we pointed the boar out to him. I watched, as he took a great
breath, raised his spear up, point down, and ran to the boar, thrusting
his spear down, and nearly pinning it to the ground. Yngona and Jason
arrived, and we all ran to the boar and Bjorn to help him hold it down,
as the great beast had risen, and was trying to attack, or escape. We
all got our spears into it, and it collapsed. As I stood there, with my
brothers, holding the dying boar down, I could see the shaft of my
spear start to bend from the strain of the boar's final fight, and
could feel it's dying heart beat. I remember seeing it's eyes, and
whispering, "Shhhhh, go home now."

Mitch ran up to us from my right, and drew his knife, knelt next to the
dying boar and stabbed it.

This boar, a large male, turned out to be the largest kill of the day.
The outfitters thought he was well over 400 lbs.

Farther along the thicket, the other Hunters had found another one, one
that Weyland had encountered earlier. He had wounded it, and it had
thrown him by the shaft of his spear, literally lifting him off of the
ground and flinging him. They had it down and dead by the time I got
there.

As some of us headed back into the woods to find the final boar, as we
had decided on six, I heard Matt yelling that he had found another one
in the thicket. He was to my left. Vanirwolf was near me, and I yelled
to him that we needed to get to Matt as he was in there with a boar,
alone.

I found Matt, and stood to his right where I could see the boar.
Vanirwolf arrived, and took position between us, all facing the boar.
Skarp came in from our front left, and downhill. He couldn't see the
boar from there, and Matt was directing him to it. Jason came up then,
downhill to my right. As Skarp was getting into position, Jason was
moving quickly through the thicket, on a direct course with the boar,
which he couldn't see. I yelled to him to slow down, as it looked as if
he could step on it. He stopped, and as he did, Skarp attacked it from
it's front. He stuck it, and the boar jumped up and turned, and ran
straight toward Vanirwolf in an attempt to escape. Vanirwolf took the
charge head on, and his spear, which he had made, sank to the stops
into the boar. The boar charged passed him as he turned, pulled off of
the spear, and ran to my rear right. Jason, and Yngona who had come up,
as well as Mitch, ran after it. I followed.

Jason pursued the boar back into the thicket. It ran into a veritable
wall, and Jason in after it. He seemed to stumble slightly, and as he
did, he threw his spear, sidearm, nailing the animal in the chest. He
ran forward and grabbed the shaft. I followed, and Yngona got there at
the same time I did. We thrust our pears into the boar to help hold it
down. It died very quickly then.

We stepped back, and went to look at the other dead boar, get some
water, and generally regroup. As we had killed the last three boars,
time had seemed to both pass very quickly, and last forever. It turned
out hat we had only been in the forest hunting for three hours. The
outfitter thought that it had to be some kind of record.

We gathered at the boar that Bjorn had pinned, for group and individual
pictures. We talked, laughed and discussed the hunt, things we had
seen, what it had been like.

We moved out of the woods and headed to our vehicles, collecting things
we had left outside the woods as we went. I gathered my water and
sword, and I commented that we had become, in a very short time, a very
efficient killing machine. We had.

As we stood around, calling Kin from cell phones to let them know we
were OK, and that the hunt had gone well, I realized how pumped up I
had become, and Hungry!

The outfitters went about collecting the dead boar, and we passed a
flask or two, raising them Sumble style to our Worthy Adversary, the
Boar Tiegeist, and to each other.

As we got ready to leave, Matt looked at me and said, "I don't want to
leave." Without thinking about it, I replied to him, "We never will."

We headed out soon after. I had to eat so Vanirwolf and I stopped of at
a truck stop. I still had boar blood on my hands and a blood sunwheel
on my forehead. I had sworn not to wash it off until after our final
ritual that night. I seemed to be somewhat disturbing to the other
patrons of the restaurant. Oh well.

We gathered at Jason's house that night, feasted on boar, did our
Einherinjar Blot in the rain, led by Jon Grimsteinr, our Gothi. We
feasted and Sumbled into the wee hours of the morning with our Brothers
and Kin.

All I could think of as I dozed, sitting in a chair, listening to the
toasts of others, was that this had been a very good day. The best. I
also remember thinking that I must have done something right, for at
least one night, I was sitting at Sumble in Valhalla.

The next day, we returned to the Hunt site to arrange for the
butchering and preparation of the hides and tusks. Bjorn and Magni were
leaving from there, and wanted to take some of the meat along, rather
than wait for the butcher. I loaned them a cooler to carry some of the
meat. As we hugged goodbye, I realized the strength of the bonds that
we had formed, and how much I was going to miss my brothers from the
West, as well as everyone else who was also leaving from there.

As everyone left, Vanirwolf and I got into the truck. He was going to
stay with me until the butchering, which was supposed to take a couple
of days, was done. He left a week later with his half in quarters, the
butcher being slow.

As I watched him drive off toward Missouri, I thought of the whole
experience, and was proud that I was one of the Worthy members of the
Brotherhood Of the Sacred Hunt. I always will be.

I sit here, now, two weeks later, writing the story as I recall it. My
Boar Spear, still bloody, leans on my hearth next to the fireplace. I
touch it occasionally in passing, still feeling the heartbeat of the
Mighty Boar in its shaft.

I talk to my Brothers fairly often now. I know that we have done
something, something very special, and hopefully of worth to the rest
of the community. Regardless of how others might see what we are, or
what we have done, we have lived an incredible adventure, one that I
will never forget.

Hail BOSH!
Hail The Boar!
Hail Our Folk!

Michael M.
*********************



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