It had been a long day, and entirely unproductive thus far as Karl and I struggled back towards the Landrover in the intense afternoon heat.  We rarely drew a blank in this remote corner of the Top End, and it was doubly disappointing since my companion would travel back to Sydney tomorrow and already the 'Rover was in sight a couple of hundred metres ahead through the burnt-out tropical woodland.  Suddenly, Karl stopped short and went down on one knee: he was some 20 metres in front at the time and that much closer to the small herd of hogs that had trotted up out of the creekbed and were now milling around in a state of uncertainty:- directly between us and the distant vehicle!  After what seemed like an eternity, they began moving off away from the gully and finally offered a safe angle for my mate to commence proceedings.  A fat porker immediately bit the dust at his opening shot with the .416.

Not surprisingly, the remaining grunters broke into full gallop but rather than continue for the high ground, they made a sharp left turn and bolted back along the creek-flat:- directly towards me!  Luckily the group split into two as they neared my position, the majority rushing past between Karl and me, close enough to touch.  The two largest decided to go around me however, and I was able to smash a "right and left" into the pair at about 5 and 3 metres respectively!  Their chins slammed into the ground and they both skidded several metres to a halt, raising a cloud of ashen dust in the still afternoon air.  The spectacular skid-marks are visible in the photo below, along with the two empty .577 cases at my feet. Although I had earlier begun to regret carrying that stumpy 10 1/2 lb Greener all day, it had certainly proven its worth as a fast and accurate short-range stopper when the time arrived!