Twin Elements Podcast · Hunting Stories
Bowhunting Brisbane Valley Red Stags: Hind Calling A 6x6 Into 7 Yards
There's a particular kind of chaos that comes with walking straight into the action thats associated with peak red stag roar!
Picture five or six mature animals all feeding off each other's aggression on the same ridge. Each roaring on top of the next, the whole hill sounding like a gunfight. That's exactly what James and I walked into during our week bowhunting in Southeast Queensland. It's exactly the kind of week that reminds you why April is, hands down, the best month to be out chasing reds in this country.
Scenery Of Sth East Queensland
In This Report
- A Different Kind of Country
- The Lesson That Cost Us a Stag (and Taught Us Everything)
- The Six-by-Six
- More Than Just the Hunting
A Different Kind of Country
We'd made the seven hour drive up from New South Wales after Tim and Taylor from Venture Hunting invited us onto a big parcel of land they'd been hunting on for the past couple of seasons. Straight away, the contrast in atmosphere hit us before we'd even parked the car and got into camp. In the darkness as we unpacked our bags and met the other hunters, roars could be heard.
Stepping out at 4am, stags were roaring on both sides of us. We hadn't heard so much as a roar back home in New South Wales all season despite close to a week of hunting.
That's the trade off with Southeast Queensland, really. It's quantity over quality. Genetics here aren't typically what you'd find in places like the Hunter Valley, but the sheer density of animals means opportunities are there every single morning. You just have to be willing to work for it!
I'll admit my expectations needed recalibrating. The first mature stag James pointed out, I nearly dismissed — I was picturing something with a heavier frame and longer points, and here was a perfectly respectable four by five wandering past at forty metres that I honestly didn't clock as a shooter. Over the following days, watching twenty to thirty stags at close range, I came to understand that first stag was genuinely one of the better heads on the property.
Red Stags
The Lesson That Cost Us a Stag (and Taught Us Everything)
Early on, we set up on a young four by four just to practise and test our hind calling. Rusty with the first setup and a little too casual about it, we called, he roared back. We called again, and then, almost without warning, he covered several hundred metres of open ground in under thirty seconds and walked past us at thirty metres.
Like a race horse at full tilt, this stag dropped off his side of the ridge, crossed a small creek and raced up our ridge out of view until he was within thirty meters. Spotting his antlers at the last second, he caught us completely out of position.
"Red stags in open country will pick you out at two or three hundred metres if you're moving carelessly — if you can see them, they can absolutely see you."
From that point on, every setup became a fifteen to twenty minute commitment.
Meaning, if we were going to invest the time to call, we would doi it properly with the intent to kill. This meant finding real concealment, settling in, and giving the spot and potentially approaching stag some time. Some stags come screaming in at a dead sprint the second they commit. Others take an agonisingly long route, circling, going silent, testing the wind. the two approaches couldnt be more different.
Within the rut, each stag has varying levels of ruttiness. This all comes down to age, status, testosterone levels, etc.
We learned to read silence itself as a sign. Often it meant they'd stopped roaring because they were closing the distance stealthily, not because they'd lost interest.
If there's one piece of advice I'd give a hunter chasing their first red deer with a bow or rifle, it's this:
Don't undervalue the power of the hind call.
We had spikers, two by twos, four by fours, even yearlings and other hinds come running in from what felt like miles away. All because James and I ran a full range of calls together. His deeper, more of a nasally tone and mine a higher-pitched, needier fawn like call. Our strategy, to sound like a small herd of hinds communicating. Whether between one another, talking to their fawns, or waiting on a stag.
Build it up like an orchestra. Even by yourself on a mountain, roaring back and forth with a mate a hundred metres apart works. You don't need to sound the most accurate, you just need to sound like there's action happening and portray the right tones.
Beaten By The Breeze
The mature red stag that winded us while coming into a hind call.
The Six-by-Six
Our last morning on the property, we located a mature four by four roaring hard above us. The wind perfect, thermals steady. We set up tight against a creek line, hoping the cold air would keep sucking down toward us, and started calling. Within minutes he was racing down through the eucalypts intent on what was at the end of our calls. Unfortunately, that's when everything changed. With what can only be described as a defiant thermal, some of our human scenet drifted up and acrross towards the stag as I started to draw. The stag now at thirty meters only needed one sniff and didnt hesitiate to flee the scene.
As he ran of inn the other direction, before disappointment could even set in, a second stag we hadn't even clocked started closing in too.
A roar alerted us to his presence.
Yet, despite registering his interest, he took his time.
Where every other stag this rut had committed and closed the gap in seconds, this one meandered in from eighty metres, taking a step, roaring, taking another step, roaring.
In what felt like an eternity, but was probably only two or three minutes, the stag crept closer. I had a Lantana bush ranged at thirty metres where I expected a clean broadside shot. He stopped right on it, and yet all I could see was the top of his head and antlers. The ridge line and bench we were calling on the same bench he made his approach was far steeper than I'd accounted for. So in response I redirected a couple of hind calls off to the side to straighten his line back toward us, and it worked. From there he came in nearly head on.
Incoming
Thirty, down to inside twenty.
I drew back early, holding for almost a full minute as he closed from fifteen metres to seven, weaving behind trees we'd planned our concealment around. At ten metres he stopped, quartering on, perfectly obscured behind a giant ironbark. The kind of moment where you almost laugh at how the universe is testing you. Then he stepped into seven metres and let out one last guttural roar, close enough that you could see right down his throat, and as he cleared some scrub, I released.
The arrow buried to the fletching at the base of his neck. Penetration was immediate and hit him hard. the impact spun him downhill in one motion.
He was a heavy six by six.
One of the better heads I've personally seen come out of that south east corner of Queensland. Even more satisfying was the fact that he was mature and easily the best stag that we had seen for the whole trip.
What I didn't expect was how much that stag's frustration worked in our favour. He'd been roaring the entire approach not out of confidence, but out of not being able to find the hinds he could hear.
His slow approach giving me the rare gift of extra time to better settle my heart rate before the shot ever presented itself. In the moments right after, I found myself instinctively giving out a couple more hind calls, something James and I have learned matters more than people realise. Keeping a big animal calm after the shot, rather than letting it bolt on adrenaline, can be the difference in how far it travels before going down.
The Trophy
More Than Just the Hunting
The Packout
What made this trip memorable, wasn't just the animal on the ground. It was the camp itself. Normally when we're filming, it's closer to a military operation that a relaxing hunt. Up before first light , hunt hard all day, film extra footage at night, upload sd cards to laptops, plan for the next day, eat, sleep, repeat. Efficient, but not exactly promoting mindfullness and relaxation.
This was different. Sharing a camp with the Venture crew and a genuine mix of hunters was great. Some chasing their first stag ever. Others trying for an upgrade and a mature animal. Each different goal, whether successfully completed or not, brought back something we hadn't had in years. Sitting around at night actually swapping stories, reflecting on what worked and what didn't, having a couple of drinks and talking about why we do this in the first place. This week reminded us why camaraderie in camp matters just as much as what ends up on the ground.
We're heading back to more of this same country for Red Deer Camp part two, so stay tuned for the next chapter. Ill be behind the camera and James will have his chance at hunting the roar and calling in some stags.
Read Red Deer Camp, Part Two →
Shop Our Prints
The Adventure Continues
Join the Twin Elements team as they head back into the Australian bush.
Want the full story behind this episode? Listen to the podcast or watch on YouTube.
This piece is adapted from Episode 17, "Red Deer Camp Part 1," of the Twin Elements Podcast.
