Deep in the mountains, there is a little known shack known as the “Hoghunter Hilton”. Few people know about it, even fewer people have been there, but it is a luxurious stay compared to tent camping all week. A solid roof and walls, mean you can sleep in after hunting all night.
If you hunt out of the shack, it is tradition to sign the wall and the dates go well back into the 90’s. Also inscribed on the wall is the following epic poem shared here for “Humpy” because his season always ends before he can hunt up there.
Demon Pig
You’ve come to the mountain
To hunt the pig
But there’s one hunting you
And I’ll tell you he’s big
With six inch cutters
Sharp as a knife
If you let your guard down
He’ll take your life
Smart he is
From hunters past
A pure Russian
He’s the last
His mother slain
His sisters too
Over the years
His anger grew
You’ll see his tracks
You’ll smell his smell
He’ll watch you patiently
This pig from Hell
Five hundred pounds
Of vengeful fight
He’s full of hate
He stalks the night
In search of a hunter
Whom he can slay
For the death of his family
You’re now his prey
The twig that went snap
The rock that was rolled
He’s hunting you down
He’s getting bold
You’re back in the shack
You’re “safe and sound”
But lock the door
He’s still around
So arm yourself hunter
With all you can borrow
He did’nt get you tonight
But there’s always tomorrow
For he’ll wait til you’re tired
No gun or no rounds
And strike from the shadows
You’ll fall to the ground
Like a ghost from the dark
In a blink of an eye
Severing the arteries
Inside your thigh
Smashing and ripping
Your guts he pulls out
He’s eating your liver
You start to shout
But no one can save you
From this devilish beast
Crunching your bones
He continues to feast
How could God make
A creature so mean
He didn’t, he’s been forged
By the Park Service Green
The slaughter of thousands
runs through his head
SCA’s, Rangers, and hunters
He all wants you dead
“Not scared” you say
Well don’t listen to me
Get yourself eaten
I could use the OT
Cause there will be a big search
For your remains
But all we will find
Will be bloody stains
But don’t worry young lad
For Bill will shed a tear
And the rest of us hunters
Well, we’ll split your gear
So take extra rounds
Your radio, your light
Don’t forget your prayers
And you may survive the night
“Humpy”
Feared by hogs, Mountain Dew, Honey Buns, Little Debbies, Lunchables, and Fruit of the Looms
I love the poem. Today is my first time reading the blog and it won’t be my last.
Thanks NB – Andrew
Awesome!
Glad you liked it..