HE HUNTS KILLERS
The War at Long Creek, Part One
 Editor’s
Note: Gene Brooks of Dublin, Georgia, hunts hogs in
three different states and is on call to a large number
of landowners and farmers. When a bad hog or a pack
of hogs starts eating and destroying crops, tearing
up roads and killing dogs, then landowners and farmers
call Brooks. Brooks' motto is, "Have Dogs, Will
Travel." Although Brooks catches and removes any
hog or group of hogs that terrorizes the landscape,
he specializes in "killer" hogs. Killer hogs
have been hunted before by other hog hunters and are
so bad that they leave bulldogs, curs and hounds lying
on the ground like casualties from a bombing raid. For
the next two weeks, we'll look at the man, his dogs
and the hogs he hunts.
 On
the way to Long Creek, Gene Brooks began to remember
his last encounter with the bad boar of Long Creek.
"The first time I hunted him, he cut up five of
my dogs and broke free," Brooks recalls. "I
knew he was bad, and I knew he was dangerous, but he
was a hog that had to be caught and taken off the land.
He was destroying too many crops and causing too much
trouble. I understood ahead of time that the dogs and
I would do what we had to do to catch this bad boar.
In times past, he'd killed two of my really good dogs
and cut up nine more. This hog was a warrior in every
sense of the word - savage, cunning and deadly. I knew
that when I went to hunt him, there would be dogs and
blood in the air. I just hoped that none of my good
dogs would get killed."
 When
Brooks let the curs out to find the hog, they struck
immediately, and the race started. Brooks and his hunting
partner that day, Trip Neal, took the two catch dogs,
Blackjack and Jack, on leashes to follow the curs until
they bayed the hog. When the curs finally bayed the
hog, Brooks and Neal ran with the bulldogs to the fight.
"When we arrived, dogs were in the air, and the
hog was cutting and slashing like a warrior of old,"
Brooks remembers. "Sailor, Buster and Bo were the
only dogs still standing. The other three cur dogs were
bleeding and wounded, and I got there in time to see
Petey fight her last fight. (Petey, a female cur and
one of Brook's best running dogs, was killed on this
hunt). Petey went in to catch the hog by the ear. As
soon as she locked on that big boar's ear, he threw
his head up and then to the side, and his razor-sharp
tusks cut Petey's throat. By the time I reached Petey,
she'd bled to death. The hog was so tough that Buster,
Sailor and Bo couldn't keep him bayed. That hog scattered
the pack, ran about 100 yards and then backed up beside
a big tree and dared the dogs to come get him."
 Brooks
then turned loose Blackjack and Jack, two veteran bulldogs.
Big, strong, tough and courageous, they had caught and
held many a big boar until Brooks and his hunting partner
could throw the hogs, tie them and drag them out of
the woods. These bulldogs had faced slashing tusks before.
They knew how to go in and grab a hog by the nose, the
jaws or the ears and not get cut. They were quick, strong
and experienced in battle. And when they latched on
to a hog's head, they wouldn't turn loose until the
hog was thrown and tied. That's the mission of a catch
dog-the job for which he's born and bred.
TOMORROW: THE WAR AT LONG CREEK, PART TWO
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