With Midge and I both moving to the North Island at the beginning of 2021 for work, we decided this’d be a good opportunity to have a go at some of the North Island deer species that neither of us had hunted before. In the South Island, our hunting had been alpine hunting for tahr, chamois and red stags, so the idea of chasing the iconic sika in the bush was certainly high on the like-to-do list, but also a foreign concept.

Prior to the Roar, we had a few attempts off Clements Mill Road to ‘get our eye in’. We had some success which, to be fair, caught us by surprise – we hadn’t been expecting to even see any of these notoriously crafty deer.

Deep into the Kawekas

With the long ANZAC weekend somewhat coinciding with the end of the sika Roar, we decided it was time to have another nudge and try for a sika stag in the Kawekas – we figured the Roar would give us our best opportunity. For this trip, we roped in another mate, Lochie, who was going to meet us at the hut.

With a late finish in Tauranga, the Waikato based Midge and I met in Whakamaru and continued down to the Kawekas together, reaching the car park at 11pm. To make the most of our long weekend, we shouldered our packs and pumped up the hill for a few hours reaching the hut just after 1am; Lochie had made it in at a more respectable time earlier in the evening and was waiting for us to arrive.

After a couple of hours’ kip, we were up and at it again. We downed a quick breakfast and shouldered our packs ready for a couple of nights fly camping even deeper in the Kawekas.

Strategy

As we trudged along the track, our first ever hee-haws were heard; it was a cool experience given the uniqueness of the sound. The hee-haws were all the encouragement we needed – we decided it was time for a stalk; stashing our packs, we went down into the bush.

Lochie had brought a small speaker with him which we hooked up to a phone app with some sika stag calls on it. Rightly or wrongly, the tactic we’d heard of and deployed was to creep along and stop, let out some calls, and then wait for a while whilst being vigilant for a potentially silently approaching stag. We gave this a good go for a couple of hours with no success before heading back to pick up our packs.

It’s difficult to know how successful you’re being in your approach with no experience to use as a benchmark; it’s hard to know if you’re wasting time in a certain approach, but we decided it was best to stick to our strategy and hope we were vaguely on the right track.

Other Hunters

Upon reaching our packs, we ate a quick lunch and continued on our way until we were stopped in our tracks by a single call; we gave one back and got an immediate reply. I quickly whipped off my boots for a stealthier approach as Lochie continued to reply. Before I left him, Midge told me he thought it just didn’t sound right; I wasn’t too sure either but thought I’d go for a look, ensuring I was well covered in high viz.

As I left Lochie, I decided my rifle wasn’t to be raised at all until I’d made a 110% ID of a deer through my binoculars, which is an expectation regardless, but it was good to have it front of mind. I was more than happy to take the time to be certain and risk spooking the deer rather than raise my rifle before I was sure.

After I was about 100m down from the boys, I heard yelling through the trees … another hunter; I called back, acknowledging I’d heard them. I rejoined Lochie and Midge, and together, we went for a yarn with the other hunters; they’d had a similar gut feeling to us – it was good to know both parties had safety front of mind, so there was no risk to each other. However, it was also a good reminder for us with limited bush-hunting experience that it’s a common occurrence to bump into other hunters in the bush!

After chatting with them and confirming their planned hunting area, we decided to backtrack and hunt the far corner of the block. On the way there, we found a nice campsite to base ourselves from and stripped back to just day-hunting equipment. Once camp was organised, we set off, creeping through the bush.

Sika Hind

After a while, we came across some good scrapes, so we let out some sika calls; replies came back from way across the valley. Continuing in the direction of the replies, we soon came across some fresh sign; we let out more calls and waited a decent while but still couldn’t see anything.

We decided to keep cruising down the ridge, as it seemed to be where this stag was living; halfway down, a hind caught my eye 50m ahead. With a clear line of sight in some reasonably open bush, I could confirm a sika hind; considering I was yet to shoot a sika, I thought perhaps I’d take her for meat. With a quick shot, she was down; a small mob of deer spooked and took off through the bush.

In hindsight, the sign was likely from the stag holding these hinds, and he’d either been with them or was potentially stalking in to where we’d previously been calling from. If we’d watched for a while …

Nevertheless, a deer down, so no point in dwelling on it. Following a quick butcher, I had a full pack, and we pumped our way back to camp for dinner.

8-Point Sika

We awoke the next morning raring to go back to the area where we’d heard the distant sika calls the evening before. We took off down the track towards the ridge he’d sounded like he was on.

Once reaching the ridge, we went back into stalk mode; halfway down, Lochie let out some sika calls, and with good visibly through the bush, we decided we’d park up in this spot for a while.

After about 20 minutes, a movement caught my eye. A stag! The other two boys had obscured views due to the trees, but I had a clear line of sight. I quickly grabbed the rifle off Midge, lined up and sacked the stag on the spot!

It seemed crazy that despite being relatively close to us, we hadn’t heard him coming in; he’d ghosted in without a sound and just materialised in front of us. It’s easy to see how they can easily circle around you without you noticing, catch your wind and be gone with you none the wiser. My feeling was this is precisely what he was up to, but the openness of the bush had caused his demise.

“Shit, he looked like a goodie!” Midge had caught sight of my stag just before I’d fired; I’d thought the same thing and agreed with him.

As we walked over, we confirmed he was a respectable 8-point sika with a brilliant cape. Whilst the cape would’ve looked excellent mounted, I was keen on just a euro mount for this fella, so after a few handshakes and some photos, we butchered him up, loaded the packs and wandered back towards camp.

Mission Accomplished

On the way, we came to the conclusion that despite having another whole day to hunt, we already had a heap of meat and a good head on the deck – we didn’t have a lot of reason to continue hunting.

By the time we reached camp, we’d decided to pack up and head out after we’d boned out all the meat from my stag and I’d skinned off the head. The antlers were real characters, and he looked to be potentially going backwards; looking at his jaw confirmed this – he was an old boy for sure! It almost seemed wrong that three rookie bush hunters could get the best of a wily old sika like him, but it seems our tactics had worked after all!

Finishing the admin, we loaded up heavy packs for a four-hour trudge back home. Fortunately, it was all straightforward, but with a heavy load of meat and gear, the 700m almost vertical decline to our vehicle was extremely punishing on the pins – I was certainly relieved to see the truck come into view.

I was rapt to have taken a public-land, 8-point sika – it was unreal to be able to tick this box whilst I was in the North Island.

Fortunately, I ended up having to fly down to Christchurch for work the following day and managed to stuff the head into one of my bags; this made getting it to Matty Potts at NZ Taxidermy relatively easy. I requested a euro mount, and he did an excellent job – I now have a great representative of a North Island species to sit alongside its South Island cohorts.