by worthless-trash | 2026-01-02 07:44:32+00:00
This is a true story, its hunting but not very persistent, since we had help from dogs.

My brother and I (-1 year younger) was fishing on my uncles sugar cane property, I was 9 at the time. My uncle had told us times that there was a hermit on his property who looked after parts of of it that were unable to be reached easily.

Part of it was jungle, unable to be cleared and a good portion of it was sugar cane.

We were spear fishing (questionably legal at the time) in the freshwater creek and had a few fresh fish in our bag.

While waist deep in the water, (like a silent ninja) a man appears behind us only meters away, alerting us with a whistle. I just about jumped out of my skin not even hearing him approach over the sound of the water.

With a croaky voice he says 'oh you must be charlies newphews' ,

I mumble, "yes sir". I turn around to see elderly caucasian man with golden brown skin, his flannels shirt nearly thread bare, a pair of jeans that seem to be cut off as short as possible, with a massive grey beard with nicotine stains.

It was at this point I recall that my uncle had told me about "Bill O'reilly" the hermit months before. I had no description to go off, but I couldn't imagine anyone else being this far off the road. (Remember i was 9 at the time!)

I say "you must be Bill!" in shock, really hoping it was and not some crazed murderer just out looking for a good time to kill two kids.

"Im famous!" he stammered, I feel like hadn't talked in years.

We made small talk, and Bill then tried to determine if we were who we said we were, which I assume we passed whatever test he had.

Bill offered "give you fellas a lift back" to the main road (about 15km).

He said his 'shack was on the way', and he had a machete the size of my leg tied to on a rope to his waist and us two boys had only a spear each, I kept my distance but tried to Sus out the danger level.

We travel some time and keep our distance from him and after a few km two mangy dogs join him on the path back.

Still further on, we notice some fresh pig tracks and the dogs smelled them and took off immediately.

He wasn't wrong, his 'shack' (more of a lean-to shelter) must have only been a few hundred meters off the path we took.

He had a vehicle, I couldn't tell you the make or model, because there wasn't enough of a shell left to make out. It did however have a tray. We offered to sit in the tray with the two dogs because there was no passenger seat, it was stuffed with fishing equipment and old metal parts.

About half way back, the dogs lept out to give chase to .. something, I couldn't see it but they must have been able to smell it.

Bill said 'I have heard you boys hunt, get up it!".

I took the lead and my brother and I gave chase to the dogs. I figured worse case scenario if he leaves we are in no worse of position than we were when he picked us up.

We ended up hunting for just over an hour and a half and with the help of the dogs we run down two pigs.

We buried one pig in a shallow-ish muddy grave and the dogs had made their way back and were already beginning to chew apart the first animal we had killed.

We make our way back to the 'vehicle' and Bill greets us with a smile, he says 'two pigs, right ?'

My younger brother says, 'Thats crazy ! how did you know that ?' I figured he must have sneaked in after us, but I didn't see any other human prints except my brothers and mine.

Bill coughs and splutters and says 'those dogs tell me how many, two barks is two pigs'.

Yeah right, I think to myself, a counting dog.

We travel no more than another two kilometers and this time the dogs jump off the car again. It was late afternoon and I don't think i could afford to repeat the hunt especially after we ran after the last one for an hour in the heat of the day.

Bill "promises" the dogs will bring them back closer this time, so us boys take our time, so we do. He asked to bring back the smallest pig for his dinner, not my kind of meal, but sure.

I hear the dogs bark 4 times, I figured this was a split from the first group of pigs we caught.

True to his word, the dogs herd the animals back to us for an easy kill. 4 pigs.

I start to believe, I think.. wow the dogs can count.

We gut the pig and remove as much weight as possible, dragging what is left of the smallest pig back to the car. Two young boys dragging about 80kg of meat, tiring times.

He lifts the carcass back into the back of the vehicle and the dogs jump up and start gnawing at the feet, heels and ears.

The motor sputters to life and we keep moving, I knock on the frame of the car and let Bill know the dogs are eating the pig, without missing a beat he says "they will leave me some".

Sure, fine.. okay..

The 'track' was bumpy and washed out, bill diverts a path back through a dry creek bed which was probably a better path than the road.

No sooner was it that we hit the creek bed, did the dogs jump out again. I groaned audibly, this time the dogs disappeared into the neighbours cane field on the other side of the dry creek bed.

I sling myself out of the flatbed tray and step away from the vehicle to listen, there was no sound. One of the dogs come bounding back with stick in mouth shaking it madly.

I look at Bill, and he's laughing, "Bill, your dog has gone mad I thought it could count!"

Bill smiles a toothy grin says "nah, that more pigs than you can shake a stick at". Needless to say, I did not have the time or energy to go in and hunt that many animals even if there was any.

We thanked bill for the ride at that point and said we'd walk the rest of the way back.

I to this day, do not know if i was being conned, if he followed us in and somehow triggered their bark, or if there was some other trick going on.