We’d put in a brutal hard day and finally had a nice mob of cattle bunched at the end of Whareana Beach on North Cape. There were nine beasts, cows and younger animals but amongst them was a seriously big steer. These animals had been pushed down to the beach through very heavy tea tree, encouraged to move by the dogs and horsemen. We had four musterers. Uncle Nuc, (the owner of the cattle), Uncle Gary, (the manager of Te Paki), Chris, (his brother), and me. One of my jobs on the muster was to be the shooter. Uncle Nuc used to do it using his old 303 called Lightning because it never hit the same place twice. He was very pleased to give me the job because the last bull he had shot took 14 shots before it went down. I kept my rifle in a scabbard tied to a D by the pommel on my saddle and to a loop on the girth down at stirrup level.

           This was the only way I could keep the rifle , saddle and myself on the horse when we were punching through the heavy tea tree. Sometimes you would actually be lying on the horse’s back getting between trees. I could grab the rifle stock and jam it against the horse to keep from having it torn off. On this job we got off our horses when climbing back up the hills just to spell them so they could last the day.

            We’d got the mob contained on the beach using pressure from the horsemen and dogs but everyone was shagged; musterers, horses and dogs. We started the push along a bit of a dozer track toward the distant holding paddock. Got to the top of the hill ready to go along the ridge when the big steer decided he’d had enough of this nonsense and just ploughed straight through the dogs, horses and men into the next bush choked catchment. The cows and youngsters followed him. We could do nothing to stop them. Bit dejected at camp that night. From a good tally to nothing.

            Several days later I saw the steer again. I was with Nuc  and Gary on the Landcruiser looking at more territory to the south when we saw the big steer by himself just off the track. Nuc said shoot him. The tea tree was not too high but I needed some elevation to get over it so I shot from off the tray of the ute. Looked for the dish on the forehead, made the shot, the steer went down out of sight. Cycled the bolt. In my peripheral vision I noticed that no empty case came out. No case on the ground.  Looked into the breach and clearly saw the head of the case in the chamber. Not good. Shot felt good but couldn’t see the steer. Jammed rifle. Bit anxious, pushed the bolt back and forward quite a number of times. Finally I felt and saw the case come out. Reloaded and went to check the animal. He was dead. Very relieved. Went back to the Cruiser and looked for the case. Found it and examined it. The extraction groove cutter had misaligned and cut the groove so the rim was about twice as thick as normal. The only time I had a cartridge malfunction while I was working and it happened at one of the trickiest moments. Got through it and the steer roasts tasted good.