Texas Deer Hunter Tossed by 300-Pound Wild Boar, Shoots It from 5 Feet
Brenden Bennett recalls the nearby pine thicket erupting in a way he had never experienced before. Suddenly, he found himself lying on his back.
Just thirty minutes earlier, Bennett had finished an evening sit at one of his family’s deer blinds near Palestine, Texas. He was alone, and decided to check on a trail camera he had set up near a feeder. Recent photographs revealed a large, solitary boar in the area. Days prior, he had also noticed that one of the legs on the barrel feeder was broken. The most recent photo showed a significant amount of spilled corn, approximately 20 pounds worth.
Bennett, an avid hunter, had frequented this feeder for years and regarded it as one of his preferred bowhunting spots. Situated at one end of a dense pine thicket, he described the area as impenetrable, making it ideal for sneaking up on unsuspecting game. Once past the thicket, a 35-yard shot to the feeder was all that remained.
Arriving on the evening of November 21, darkness had already fallen. Bennett parked his four-wheeler a few hundred yards away and followed the winding footpath along the far side of the forest. Equipped with only his cell phone and a Surefire work light, he gripped his Savage Axis .30-06 tightly. He kept the barrel and flashlight pointed downward, always aware of the potential dangers posed by East Texas’ abundant snake population. Despite the warm weather, he wore shorts and a long-sleeve camouflage shirt.
As Bennett approached the feeder, flashlight in hand, he immediately noticed that the large corn pile had disappeared. However, he recalls being able to smell the hog. Suddenly, chaos ensued.
“It wasn’t a typical pig grunt,” Bennett recalls. As he swung the barrel around to locate the source of the noise, the boar was already upon him. Backpedaling, he felt the snout strike under his kneecap, momentarily elevating him off the ground.
“I landed about five feet back and he kept coming at me,” Bennett explains. However, the pig hesitated for a moment, which allowed Bennett, lying flat on his back, to take action.
“I clicked the safety off and, somehow, managed to keep the light against the rifle. I didn’t shoulder the gun, but I aimed it over my feet, pointing it directly at the boar. I squeezed the trigger,” Bennett says. “The hog squealed, spun in a circle, then ran 20 yards before collapsing.”
Now on his feet, Bennett attempted to stand but found his knee buckling. Surprisingly, he had not sustained any cuts, though he was shaken and concerned about potential injuries to his knee. (Other than a sizable bruise, it was fine.) He sat beside the feeder for the next fifteen minutes, scanning the area with his rifle. Then, realizing that he needed help, he called his father, whose voice immediately conveyed his son’s distress.
After loading the hog into the bed of their Mule—an arduous task requiring considerable effort from both individuals—they returned home to weigh the pig. The only scale available to them was an old cotton scale that maxed out at 260 pounds—far from sufficient. Bennett estimates that the hog likely exceeded 300 pounds.
Bennett was astonished to discover that, despite shooting the boar at close range with a 180-grain Hornady ELD-X bullet, there was no exit wound. Upon skinning the hog, he realized that the bullet hadn’t passed through; it had fragmented into twenty or more pieces. The pig’s thick subcutaneous shoulder tissue, approximately two inches in thickness, had acted as a shield.
In addition to one four-inch tusk (measured from the gumline), the boar possessed a broken, rounded-off tusk measuring half the length. The animal also exhibited scars, puncture wounds, and torn ears.
“That was an incredibly large, very old pig,” Bennett remarks. “I must have walked past him within ten feet. He didn’t utter a single sound, and I never suspected he was there.”
A skilled hunter, dedicated conservationist, and advocate for ethical practices. Respected in the hunting community, he balances human activity with environmental preservation.