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My wife has never had a big game tag, but we have been buying her points for some time. This year we decided that she would try hunting pigs with us. We put her on the application with my father in law and her points gave us tag numbers 1, 2, and 3. My brother in law put in on his own and drew a tag as well. My father in law and brother in law just started hunting with me last year. They both have a coues deer under their belts, and my brother in law took a cow elk last October. We had big plans for a wilderness backpacking trip, but my work and my brother in law’s traveling schedule caused us to make changes. First, I had a huge deadline fall on opening day, meaning that I had to be in the office. Then, our babysitter plans fell through, meaning that my wife would only be able to hunt Saturday. Next, my brother in law found out that he would have to fly out of town for two weeks on Sunday morning. So, it was Saturday or never for them. I put out a camera with a little something to bring the pigs in to up my wife and brother in law's chances of a harvest. The pigs hit the camera hard on opening day. About mid-day, so did two hunters who stumbled on the herd camped out in front of the camera. They must have pushed them pretty good, because there weren’t any other pictures after that. Saturday we were snowed out, but we decided to stick through it just in case the sun peeked out for a bit. Late in the morning the same hunters that were on my camera from the day before showed up. I guess they figured that because they didn’t have glassing equipment that their best bet was to bushwhack the hill we were glassing. They knew we were there, but I guess if you can’t glass, it’s okay to ruin the glassing for everyone else. Since Saturday was a bust, my wife and brother in law were done for the season. My father in law was able to take today off of work, so I snuck away too so we could give it another try. It was cold this morning, and the herd didn’t show up on their usual hill until 9am. My father in law glassed them up first, which was a first for him. But, the wind was wrong, so we decided to wait them out. After half an hour, they had worked their way across the entire face of the hill, so we had to move…it was now or never. We closed from 400 yards to 200 yards and the pigs started to file out. I thought for sure that they had winded us, so we picked up the pace. As it turns out, they were just moving into a new clearing to feed. They settled down just as we got to 115 yards. There was a good sized draw between us, so there wasn’t getting any closer without making a lot of noise. We got the muzzleloader primed for my father in law, and I mounted my Savage Striker in the TriClawps. It took forever for my father in law to settle in on a pig. Every time he would get ready to fire, the pig he was aiming at would move or another would step in front of it. Finally, he squeezed the trigger and we heard POP…..BOOM! It was a friggin hang fire, and it was all my fault. I had neglected to blast a cap through the barrel before I loaded it. Some of the moisture from the past week had settled in the breech. The hang fire caused him to miss a little left and low, and dirt flew at the pigs front feet. At his shot, the pigs spread like cockroaches fleeing the kitchen light. I blew the javelina call and a handful of them stopped long enough to listen. I settled in on a big pig and squeezed the trigger, only to be greeted with a “click.” I had forgotten to load a round in the chamber! I quickly racked one in as the group moved up into the trees. A lone pig bolted from the cover below and I picked it up in the scope. It paused just for a moment at 120 yards and I squeezed the trigger again. There is no hope of keeping the Striker on the sight picture after you pull the trigger, so as it jumped from the shot, I saw the pig go down like a sack of potatoes. At that point, I realized that my father in law was sitting there with an empty muzzleloader. No more than 7 or 8 second has passed from his shot, and there was a pig down, but it wasn’t his. I had him move in behind the Striker as two more pigs moved into the clearing. They paused for a moment, but he couldn’t find them in the scope. They moved on, and he finally found the last pig as it checked its backtrail at 150 yards, but just as he was ready to shoot the pig moved into the safety of the trees. I felt horrible, first that my negligence had resulted in a hang fire, and second, that I went into killer mode after his shot instead of thinking to put him behind my own gun. I apologized profusely as we moved to see if we could catch up with the herd, but his only response was “Are you kidding?!? We got one down! This is fun!” We never found the herd again. We had a good time cutting up the pig together and spent some extra time checking out its anatomy. When we got back to the car we decided to see if we could find another herd in an area I have wanted to glass for some time. We hiked 4 miles round trip to a sweet glassing point, but no other pigs were found . My father in law can’t get out again before the hunt ends, so now I have to live with thinking about his unfilled tag for the next year. But, we had a great day together and made some good memories, and as he is fond of saying “no one can ever take that away from us!” I love his attitude. The Striker is chambered in 22-250. I shoot a 50 grain TTSX out of it, and it has now taken three pigs with three shots. On a dead rest it easily gives one inch groups. It's pretty sweet. Please excuse the excessive blood...