By Andy Anderson 

Every year they lurk in the grass, lying in wait for their next victim. You don’t know they are there; they don’t let you know they are invading your body until it’s too late. Chiggers are little skin demons that bring pain and discomfort for days and make you look like you have the worst case of the chicken pox or some plague.

Hunting during the summer can be challenging to say the least. Most of the time a night time excursion is the best bet; it’s just too hot for day time activities. Chiggers, on the other hand, do not care if it’s day light or dark.

A friend of mine came down from north of South Dakota, and wanted to do some pig hunting. Jim is an ambitious man, loves the outdoors and is not afraid of much. He had never been pig hunting and was excited to get out in the woods.

Of course, the heat was unbearable for him in August, but this was the only time he could get away. We spent most of the day resting in the air conditioning, discussing the hunt and methods we were going to employ. We went over gear and prepared snacks and drinks.

Just before dark we headed out the back door. It was still 90 plus degrees and while I really didn’t pay much attention, Jim was wearing shorts. I suggested he might want to wear pants; he insisted he would be fine. He had hunted in shorts in Africa and never had an issue. I told him this was not Africa: you are in Texas, and pants are highly advised. He shook it off and insisted we get after those pigs.

I set him up in a blind over a feeder and near water, a perfect spot with a lot of activity. I headed out to the other side of the ranch and sat in the Ranger overlooking a coastal field near a creek bottom.

As the sun slowly faded into twilight, the mosquitoes began to emerge and swarm my face; I knew if I was having issues, Jim had to be as well. I had a thermocell and couldn’t remember if Jim had anything, but he said he was fine so I turned the thermocell on and instantly was relived of the flying vermin. About that time a sow and a few piglets emerged from the tree line working their way to the middle of the field. I sat waiting for them to close the distance and better shot opportunity.

After about 10 minutes, the sow was within about 50 yards, an easy shot for me with my trusty 243. I lowered the cross hairs down, just behind the left ear. Boom!

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