Ku-winda
AH veteran
- Joined
- Oct 7, 2023
- Messages
- 184
- Reaction score
- 715
- Media
- 12
- Member of
- NRA, DSC Foundation Treasurer, Life Member
- Hunted
- Zimbabwe, Australia, New Zealand
THE SKINNING SHED GETS BUSY
The next morning found us within two miles as the crow flies from where we had darted the big lion the evening before. We were working that area where the palm forest and flood plain comes together, which seemed to act like a magnet for all of the herd animals. After one good long walkabout in the palm forest, which yielded no animals but was plentiful on memories, we got back in the cruiser and made our way to the flood plain proper. Just as we eased up to the very edge, Vosco pointed out two bushpigs milling around in the tall grass some 150 yards out. Vosco, Bredger and Ian were out of the cruiser in two shakes of a lamb’s tail and started slowly making their way towards the unsuspecting pigs. Alberto and I stayed behind on top of the cruiser to see if we could keep eyes on the pigs and direct as needed. It almost played out like a couple of west Texas hunters chasing a covey of blue quail – the pigs flushed a couple of times as they were approached, but never went more than fifty or sixty yards, only to disappear in the next clump of thick grass. The third time was the charm, as the boar made a mistake and stopped in the open, while the sow took off to the next clump of cover. The sticks were up in flash, and we heard the report of the rifle and the hit almost simultaneously. Alberto and I watched as the boar took off like he was shot out of cannon, only to do a nose plant and summersault some 35 yards from point of impact. I slowly drove the cruiser out into the flood plain towards the pigs’ last known location, which was probably 350 yards or so by now. The guys were already there admiring Ian’s shot, which was a perfect double lung shot with a full pass through. Bredger indicated the distance was 132 yards and it was readily apparent Ian was starting to feel extremely comfortable with his 9.3x62. Amazingly enough, we ended up seeing 24 bushpigs in broad daylight over the first five days, and then only saw four for the remainder of the trip – Bredger said it’s always a crapshoot with bushpigs and you just never know what you’re gonna get. After a few celebratory pics, we were on our way to find a good spot to have a braai in the bush.
Ian and Bredger
We went to a spot Bredger had used many times before under a huge hardwood canopy, with the tell-tale signs of a makeshift firepit and old charcoal. Ian and I set about gathering firewood while Bredger started preparing the food, and Alberto and Vosco started skinning the bush pig. We had a good fire going no time, so we all sat down to chill in the shade and enjoy a mid-day 2M. It wasn’t long before the coals were just right and Bredger set about to BBQ a chicken and backstrap from an eland one of the Georgia boys had taken a day or two earlier. I’m not sure if it was because we were so hungry or not, but damn, that was one good meal! We kicked back after lunch and snoozed in our chairs for a while, recharging our batteries for the afternoon hunt and our return trip to camp.
Braai time with Bredger
Braai in the bush
After cleaning up, we backtracked along the same road that separated the palm forest from the flood plain. We saw multiple animals along the way, just like every other hunt before. About thirty minutes out, Bredger stopped the cruiser abruptly. There was a loan sable bull 300 yards out to our 10 o’clock. It was the first and only sable we ever saw by itself on the entire trip. Bredger wanted to get a closer look, but the wind was all wrong. Consequently, we turned around and went back the way we had come with the plan to come in on the other side of him. After 600 yards, Bredger cut off the cruiser and we set off on a stalk in a big arc that would bring us in on his down wind side. We weaved our way though the palms and finally put eyes on him at about 200 yards – he continued to graze and was totally unaware of our presence. Bredger studied him intently, using the shooting sticks and a tree for support of his binocs to get a steady look. After several minutes of looking him over, Bredger turned around and whispered, “he isn’t the biggest bull on the delta, but he is one old bastard, that’s for sure!” That’s all I needed to hear, and the stalk was on. We made several moves to get a little closer whenever the bull had his head down. We ultimately got to a spot between a couple of palms that provided good cover within 140 yards of the bull, and I set up for the shot. He was slowly grazing away from us, and I didn’t have a clean shot, so we sat tight. It wasn’t long before he started quartering away and began to expose vitals. When he was at about a ¾ turn, he stopped and looked back our way. I squeezed off a round from the Jeffery and the bull hit the ground instantly. He was still kicking intermittently though, so we hurried up from the downwind side for a closer look. At about 35 yards, he lifted his head, so I quickly placed another round square on his shoulder and the bull was down for good. As we put our hands on the bull for the first time, Bredger pointed out the second-growth rings that gave away his age. He was stunning like all sable, and I was proud to call him my own. We took a few pics and then Bredger and Ian went back to fetch the cruiser, while Vosco, Alberto and I awaited their return. As I stood there standing over and admiring the bull, I could only wonder what my friend @ay2626 would think about me taking this beautiful, old bull with “our” 404 Jeffery. When I acquired it from him in 2023, he wanted to make sure it was used properly and had the opportunity to draw blood on the dark continent. It had done so indeed and this was this was my first animal with the rifle, but would not be my last. I smiled and soaked in a solitary moment that only Africa can deliver, while waiting for the boys to return.
Getting ready for the shot
Craig w/sable
We were all grins on the way back but still looking for targets of opportunity. Bredger chose a new road that was north of the main road we had come down that morning and took us into some new country. It had some wide-open expanses with tall grass and reeds and we saw a ton of waterbuck, zebra and reedbuck. I can’t tell you for certain how many reedbuck we had seen up until that point in the first couple of days, but it was well into the hundreds. I also can’t tell you how many I pointed out to Bredger and said, “how about that one?” His answer was always the same, “not quite what we are looking for.” About an hour before sunset, we were just cruising along when we came across a whole slew of reedbuck bedded down back to the east. I was up front with Bredger and Ian was in the back with Vosco and Alberto. The sun was at our backs, so we just sat there for a while and looked over the multitude of bucks in front of us. It wasn’t long before Bredger said, “check out that SOB!” It was unlike anything we had seen so far, and its horns went almost straight out. Bredger said we need to take that one, so Vosco and Ian got down quickly, while Bredger eased out of the cruiser. All of these reedbuck were bedded down with no vitals exposed, so there was no shot to take. I heard Bredger call out 171 yards from the cruiser before they started walking towards the big group of bucks. It was only about ten steps or so before most of them jumped up from their beds and a few even took off. Ours stood up as well but held tight. Within a matter of seconds, Ian was on the sticks and soon thereafter the buck was on the ground, poleaxed in his tracks by a 286 grain A-frame. We got up to the buck within a matter of minutes and all saw what a freak he was. Bredger told Ian "you've got yourself a dandy there" and “you won’t have to worry about getting that one mixed up with any others at the skinning shed!” We all laughed. It had been one hell of a day, and we were still just 72 hours into our safari – what else could be in store for us over the next 12 days?
Ian's reedbuck
I believe that was the first evening when I started sharing photos with AHF buddies @Dirtdart , @SkullKeeper , @RR 314 and @AZDAVE , something I couldn't even have dreamed about doing on my first safari in 1999. Back then, no one even knew what you had taken until you got home, lol - my how times have changed! It was really cool to be able to share pics with this group of guys, all accomplished hunters in their own right. I continued to do that over the course of the safari and greatly appreciated their feedback. @AZDAVE and @SkullKeeper even had hunts that overlapped towards the tail end of mine, and I got to see pics from their hunts as well, while still in MOZ - technology has sure changed the name of the game In any case, this one was shaping up to be a doozy and we were really only just getting started.
Next up: LET's GO TO THE SAND FORESTS
The next morning found us within two miles as the crow flies from where we had darted the big lion the evening before. We were working that area where the palm forest and flood plain comes together, which seemed to act like a magnet for all of the herd animals. After one good long walkabout in the palm forest, which yielded no animals but was plentiful on memories, we got back in the cruiser and made our way to the flood plain proper. Just as we eased up to the very edge, Vosco pointed out two bushpigs milling around in the tall grass some 150 yards out. Vosco, Bredger and Ian were out of the cruiser in two shakes of a lamb’s tail and started slowly making their way towards the unsuspecting pigs. Alberto and I stayed behind on top of the cruiser to see if we could keep eyes on the pigs and direct as needed. It almost played out like a couple of west Texas hunters chasing a covey of blue quail – the pigs flushed a couple of times as they were approached, but never went more than fifty or sixty yards, only to disappear in the next clump of thick grass. The third time was the charm, as the boar made a mistake and stopped in the open, while the sow took off to the next clump of cover. The sticks were up in flash, and we heard the report of the rifle and the hit almost simultaneously. Alberto and I watched as the boar took off like he was shot out of cannon, only to do a nose plant and summersault some 35 yards from point of impact. I slowly drove the cruiser out into the flood plain towards the pigs’ last known location, which was probably 350 yards or so by now. The guys were already there admiring Ian’s shot, which was a perfect double lung shot with a full pass through. Bredger indicated the distance was 132 yards and it was readily apparent Ian was starting to feel extremely comfortable with his 9.3x62. Amazingly enough, we ended up seeing 24 bushpigs in broad daylight over the first five days, and then only saw four for the remainder of the trip – Bredger said it’s always a crapshoot with bushpigs and you just never know what you’re gonna get. After a few celebratory pics, we were on our way to find a good spot to have a braai in the bush.
Ian and Bredger
We went to a spot Bredger had used many times before under a huge hardwood canopy, with the tell-tale signs of a makeshift firepit and old charcoal. Ian and I set about gathering firewood while Bredger started preparing the food, and Alberto and Vosco started skinning the bush pig. We had a good fire going no time, so we all sat down to chill in the shade and enjoy a mid-day 2M. It wasn’t long before the coals were just right and Bredger set about to BBQ a chicken and backstrap from an eland one of the Georgia boys had taken a day or two earlier. I’m not sure if it was because we were so hungry or not, but damn, that was one good meal! We kicked back after lunch and snoozed in our chairs for a while, recharging our batteries for the afternoon hunt and our return trip to camp.
Braai time with Bredger
Braai in the bush
After cleaning up, we backtracked along the same road that separated the palm forest from the flood plain. We saw multiple animals along the way, just like every other hunt before. About thirty minutes out, Bredger stopped the cruiser abruptly. There was a loan sable bull 300 yards out to our 10 o’clock. It was the first and only sable we ever saw by itself on the entire trip. Bredger wanted to get a closer look, but the wind was all wrong. Consequently, we turned around and went back the way we had come with the plan to come in on the other side of him. After 600 yards, Bredger cut off the cruiser and we set off on a stalk in a big arc that would bring us in on his down wind side. We weaved our way though the palms and finally put eyes on him at about 200 yards – he continued to graze and was totally unaware of our presence. Bredger studied him intently, using the shooting sticks and a tree for support of his binocs to get a steady look. After several minutes of looking him over, Bredger turned around and whispered, “he isn’t the biggest bull on the delta, but he is one old bastard, that’s for sure!” That’s all I needed to hear, and the stalk was on. We made several moves to get a little closer whenever the bull had his head down. We ultimately got to a spot between a couple of palms that provided good cover within 140 yards of the bull, and I set up for the shot. He was slowly grazing away from us, and I didn’t have a clean shot, so we sat tight. It wasn’t long before he started quartering away and began to expose vitals. When he was at about a ¾ turn, he stopped and looked back our way. I squeezed off a round from the Jeffery and the bull hit the ground instantly. He was still kicking intermittently though, so we hurried up from the downwind side for a closer look. At about 35 yards, he lifted his head, so I quickly placed another round square on his shoulder and the bull was down for good. As we put our hands on the bull for the first time, Bredger pointed out the second-growth rings that gave away his age. He was stunning like all sable, and I was proud to call him my own. We took a few pics and then Bredger and Ian went back to fetch the cruiser, while Vosco, Alberto and I awaited their return. As I stood there standing over and admiring the bull, I could only wonder what my friend @ay2626 would think about me taking this beautiful, old bull with “our” 404 Jeffery. When I acquired it from him in 2023, he wanted to make sure it was used properly and had the opportunity to draw blood on the dark continent. It had done so indeed and this was this was my first animal with the rifle, but would not be my last. I smiled and soaked in a solitary moment that only Africa can deliver, while waiting for the boys to return.
Getting ready for the shot
Craig w/sable
We were all grins on the way back but still looking for targets of opportunity. Bredger chose a new road that was north of the main road we had come down that morning and took us into some new country. It had some wide-open expanses with tall grass and reeds and we saw a ton of waterbuck, zebra and reedbuck. I can’t tell you for certain how many reedbuck we had seen up until that point in the first couple of days, but it was well into the hundreds. I also can’t tell you how many I pointed out to Bredger and said, “how about that one?” His answer was always the same, “not quite what we are looking for.” About an hour before sunset, we were just cruising along when we came across a whole slew of reedbuck bedded down back to the east. I was up front with Bredger and Ian was in the back with Vosco and Alberto. The sun was at our backs, so we just sat there for a while and looked over the multitude of bucks in front of us. It wasn’t long before Bredger said, “check out that SOB!” It was unlike anything we had seen so far, and its horns went almost straight out. Bredger said we need to take that one, so Vosco and Ian got down quickly, while Bredger eased out of the cruiser. All of these reedbuck were bedded down with no vitals exposed, so there was no shot to take. I heard Bredger call out 171 yards from the cruiser before they started walking towards the big group of bucks. It was only about ten steps or so before most of them jumped up from their beds and a few even took off. Ours stood up as well but held tight. Within a matter of seconds, Ian was on the sticks and soon thereafter the buck was on the ground, poleaxed in his tracks by a 286 grain A-frame. We got up to the buck within a matter of minutes and all saw what a freak he was. Bredger told Ian "you've got yourself a dandy there" and “you won’t have to worry about getting that one mixed up with any others at the skinning shed!” We all laughed. It had been one hell of a day, and we were still just 72 hours into our safari – what else could be in store for us over the next 12 days?
Ian's reedbuck
I believe that was the first evening when I started sharing photos with AHF buddies @Dirtdart , @SkullKeeper , @RR 314 and @AZDAVE , something I couldn't even have dreamed about doing on my first safari in 1999. Back then, no one even knew what you had taken until you got home, lol - my how times have changed! It was really cool to be able to share pics with this group of guys, all accomplished hunters in their own right. I continued to do that over the course of the safari and greatly appreciated their feedback. @AZDAVE and @SkullKeeper even had hunts that overlapped towards the tail end of mine, and I got to see pics from their hunts as well, while still in MOZ - technology has sure changed the name of the game In any case, this one was shaping up to be a doozy and we were really only just getting started.
Next up: LET's GO TO THE SAND FORESTS
