Wildebeest
It was the first day of our hunt and Riaan and the trackers had spent the morning educating me on just how one goes about pursuing eland. As chronicled above I was clueless on the matter when I arrived. Like most trips I was anxious to get the first animal on the ground so I was happy to be out cruising for any and everything this afternoon. We started out after lunch with no particular agenda other than to just see what presented itself.
After about three hours of playing peekaboo with everything from kudu to duiker. The light tapping of Riaan’s stick signaled Lagos to stop the cruiser. He nudged me and said we were going for a walk. As we all climbed down my curiosity forced me ask what the plan was. He explained that there was a salt lick ahead and we were going to sneak in and take a look around.
It took us about 20 minutes to get close enough to our destination for the “fall in line” command to be passed back from the head of our procession. For the uninitiated this means walk directly behind the person in front of you to reduce the horizontal profile of the group. Charles took the lead with Riaan and I right on his heels. The other three members of our party fell well behind us. Charles was the tallest in the group which allowed him to see over the brush between us and the clearing. Immediately he let us know that there was life there but he made no effort grab me or put up the sticks so we knew it must not be much. Riaan moved to a better vantage point and motioned me to advance with him. There was a group of zebra about 80 yards ahead and to our left. When we first discussed what animals I may consider taking, zebra never came up. However I had later mentioned that for some reason I liked shooting zebra. (I have no explanation, I just do.) I suppose it was this that made Riaan look at me to see if I was interested. I shrugged as if to say, “not sure but maybe”, and that’s all it took for the sticks to go up. I took up my position and started looking through the group to see if there was anything that gave me a stir. After several minutes of considering at least a dozen reasons why I should I must’ve come up with 13 reasons why I shouldn’t and just settled in to enjoy the scene. Charles rustled a bit and signaled that he saw something else. Just then a kudu that was judged to be “only” 53 or 54 inches materialized on the far side of the clearing which was roughly 150 yards away. Close behind him was his twin brother. We were soaking all this in and enjoying every minute. Eventually a group of wildebeest joined the gathering and started milling about almost exactly where the kudu had first appeared. I heard some whispering going on behind me. As soon as it stopped Riaan leaned forward and told me that one of the photo camps to the north had called earlier in the day asking for camp meat. He then asked if I would be so kind as to dispatch one of these unlucky new arrivals. I nodded with a grin and settled back on the sticks. It only took Riaan a few seconds to point one out. She was walking from left to right through the group so it took a little time for me to get a clear shot. As soon as she cleared the rifle erupted and so did the clearing. Wildebeest, kudu, and zebra went everywhere. In all the confusion it was impossible to keep track of the one I had shot. I felt like the shot was solid but we didn’t see anything fall. Riaan and I made our way through the waist high weeds and grass to where we believed she should be. Right away we spotted her lying dead only about 40 yards from where she was at the shot. I had failed to account for the fact that she was walking and the shot hit her about 6 inches behind the shoulder. Obviously it was effective but not my best work by any means.
My itch had been scratched, the greenies in the photo camp had their meat, and it was now time for a cold Castle!!
Jackal
On the way from the airport to the reserve one of the many questions we had posed to Riaan was whether or not he thought we may see a jackal. He snapped back with a quick, “Oh yes”. He went on to explain that they imposed three simple rules on clients when it comes to jackal.
1.) They are free to shoot.
2.) If you miss, it costs you $50
3.) If you choose not to shoot it will cost you $100.
With this in mind we went into every day determined not to end the trip with a jackal bill pending.
It was the afternoon of day two and once again we were cruising in hopes of coming across something interesting. The trees in the area we were in were miraculously sparse so visibility was better than normal. LC jerked out of his seat and starting pointing and saying jackal. As soon as he did Riaan started yelling at me to get my gun. I retrieved the custom 300 RUM from a partially open soft case on the roof rack, closed the bolt, and popped the lens caps as I’ve done a thousand times. The rifle met my shoulder and my eye had already found my target standing still believing he was hidden. Instinctively the cross hairs moved between my eye the animal. As soon as they settled I began to squeeze the trigger. In all the excitement I had forgotten one small detail. The safety. So after a very determined attempt to pull the trigger through the housing I came to my senses and thumbed it off. Fortunately during this delay my target only repositioned himself a few yards further away, now about 50 yards. When the shot went off we instantly heard a loud pop as the bullet struck the small predator. To the amazement of Riaan and the trackers pieces of the poor jackal flew 10+ feet into the air. For those of you who have hunted prairie dogs this will ring familiar for you. The pic below pretty much says it all. There wasn’t much of a trophy left but I didn’t owe anyone any money.
Finally worthy of a name!
On a side note to this story, when LC saw what the bullet had done to the jackal the first thing he said was “that is one BAD M….R F….R”. Now where I’m from any rifle worth having deserves a name but the names are never just given they are earned. I had only had this rifle for about a year and a half and nothing had seemed to fit. From this day forward it will always be referred to as BMF.
Springbok
I really wish there was more to this story but it played out about as simply as possible. We were riding high on the success of the previous day, however taking the eland had led to a bit of a headache for me on this grand morning. One too many glasses of Macallan by the fire. This was also the night that a much larger leopard made a visit to the bait tree so LC and I also used that as an excuse to extend our fireside activities.
Since the eland was in the bag the only other real target species I had was a nice bull gemsbok. I assumed we were to spend the day focusing on them but the plan quickly changed when Riaan piped up and asked about a springbok. We were close to a large open area where they were commonly seen and he suggested we take a walk and check things out. Riaan, Kamoora and myself set out leaving the rest of our party behind. After a short walk I could see a huge pasture. Probably 150 acres or more. As we got closer signs of life started to materialize. The first thing I noticed was a small group of black wildebeest several hundred yards off, then a huge herd of springbok came into view along with a couple of warthogs. As we got closer Riaan and Kamoora stopped several times to glass and look for a likely victim. Sure enough on about the third such occasion they threw up the sticks and pointed out a loner that was at least 50 yards from the nearest blade of cover or other animal. He was staring straight at us and fidgeted a bit as I got the gun settled. Eventually he took a few steps but it was far too late for him. The 300 barked and he dropped.
Once again I was slightly over gunned. At 150 yards the 200 Gr Accubond was still traveling at over 2800 FPS. The round produced an exit wound on the off shoulder the size of my two hands placed flat, side by side. Oh well, I have always said that dead is dead and there is no such state as too dead. The effects of the bullet were enough that he did not pronk when he died. The photo taking was therefore brief, the meat wagon was called, and we were off and cruising again.
Impala
This was a surprise trophy for me on this trip. Even though I can’t really explain it I have to admit that the smaller antelope have never really been all that interesting to me. With that admission out in the open I had noticed several really nice impala on their website and in their photo albums in the dining hall so I kept that in mind each day as we hunted.
It was early in the afternoon and we had only been out for an hour or so. We spotted a kudu that nearly had me off the truck. Riaan certainly didn’t talk me out of it but I judged his reaction and those of the trackers to suggest that the property could offer more. LC thought I had taken leave of my senses by not going after it and managed to get a really good photo of him to remind me about the encounter. In any case I stayed on the truck and we continued our search.
We rounded a corner and caught a glimpse of a small brown flash crossing the road ahead. With no warning or signal the cruiser rolled to a gentle stop. It was as if our trusty driver knew something good was about to happen. Sure enough a large group of impala made their way across the road about 100 yards ahead of us. When the last one made his appearance LC and I exchanged a glance acknowledging that this guy looked worthy of a stalk. I turned to Riaan to ask his opinion of the ram and he very casually shrugged and said “I’d shoot him”. At this, it took me less than 30 seconds to retrieve my rifle and hit the ground ready to go. Riaan and Charles quickly followed and we were on our way to where they had crossed. After going less than a hundred yards off the road Charles stopped and started glassing. We moved very slowly from this point only a few more yards to get in position. Riaan placed the sticks and pointed out three small brown forms about 75 yards away. I finally made out the fact that one was much larger than the other two and determined that this must be my guy. Riaan’s only instruction was to make sure to let the others clear before taking the shot. The ram had his head down and was only partially visible so I couldn’t tell which end was which. After a few seconds of waiting on him to raise his head or offer some other clue I finally whispered my confusion to Riaan. He quickly replied that he was facing to the right. I swung the cross hairs as far to the right as possible without hitting the small tree that had his head and part of his shoulder hidden. My trusty 300 barked and he went straight down. Immediately following this I heard a yelp of celebration from back at the truck. As I turned towards the sound I realized that somehow or another the last few yards of the stalk and the shot had played out in clear view of the truck. LC was already dismounting with camera in hand.
I have taken impala before and as I mentioned I just don’t typically find them all that interesting however this guy made me happy. He’s got plenty of length and a great shape that I positively love. Suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about passing the kudu. Break out the Castle boys!!!
The kudu I passed.
Gemsbok
It was getting late in the week and we still hadn’t come across a gemsbok worthy of pursuit. I wasn’t necessarily worried because we were seeing them every day however the thought had crossed my mind that it may not happen.
Charles led our procession with Riaan and I in tow. We were in the middle of a flawless execution of the old sneak up to the salt lick trick that had worked out so well on day one. The truck had disappeared about 10 minutes ago and as usual I was bleeding from every patch of bare skin and there was even a couple of red spots that had emerged through my pants legs. The thorns at Tholo are merciless and I was reminded daily. As I had grown accustomed to, Charles abruptly stopped and started to glass. After only a few seconds he nodded confirming that there was life ahead. He stooped into a low crawl and started forward again. Riaan and I followed his lead. It took us probably 20 minutes to cover the next 30 yards. Charles eventually fell to the rear and we all three either kneeled or sat down. There was a small group of gemsbok in the clearing around the salt lick and a couple of them were staring in our direction. We didn’t move a muscle for 10 or 15 minutes. They finally seemed to relax and go about their business. At this Riaan slowly set up the sticks. We paused for another couple of minutes just to make sure they were still relaxed. Riaan looked at me and motioned me to slowly get up and on the sticks. As I gathered myself to execute the maneuver he whispered for me to take the one on the right. As the gun found the sticks he changed gears on me and told me to take the one second from the right. Luckily we had managed all this without setting off any alarms. The one I was after was at about 120 yards and quartering towards us from left to right. This is one of my favorite shots because when executed properly the animal almost always goes down instantly. At the report of the rifle he did just that. The bullet had hit him on the point of the shoulder and he immediately flipped over backwards and started flopping. Riaan and I looked at one another smiling and shook hands. As I turned to Charles to acknowledge a job well done Riaan suddenly shouted “shoot him again”! After a split second of confusion I looked up to see my trophy running off. I snapped a quick hail marry in his direction that honestly didn’t even come close. We ran to where he had been when I shot him but did not pause long before heading to where we had last seen him. Thankfully we didn’t go 50 yards before we found him lying, with his head up, in a clump of brush. A quick follow up shot to finish him off. We all breathed a big sigh of relief and reinstated the previously retracted congratulations and handshakes.
I asked the skinners get their CSI kits out and do their best forensic work to retrieve my bullets and make a determination of what had happened. Bullet one had indeed entered on the point of his shoulder and was found lodged in the opposite hip. Bullet two entered right about the center of his chest and stopped in the mass of stomach matter. Considering all this my only explanation is that a gemsbok is a heck of a lot tougher than what I had given them credit for.
Our very concerned support crew appeared in the cruiser with confused looks on their faces. They were unable to hear the impact of any of the bullets and the fact that I had shot three times told them that things probably did not go as planned. My expression extinguished their concern. I recounted the events for them and we all had a good chuckle at how panicked I was when he ran out of sight.
I had a fine trophy and it was exactly what I wanted in a gemsbok. One happy hunter.
This is a better example of how we normally saw the kudu.
Wrap up
Tholo was better than I could have asked for. I pointed this out at the beginning of this post but I think it’s worth saying again.
Pros – Everything
Cons - Leaving
. Time after time, I watched him and the other San trackers accurately assess animals at unbelievable distances without using binocs. And yes, mornings and evenings can be much colder than one would think. I appreciate your story of the eland hunt. For me nothing beats tracking eland and dagga buffalo. That Kalahari sand is something else. It feels very fine textured under foot and is somewhat slick, so for me, requires different mechanics for walking efficiently over a distance. Those eland once spooked are a true and most rewarding challenge!!!! Again congrats and thanks for sharing.
