MOZAMBIQUE: 15 Day Hunt Report With Zambeze Delta Safaris In Coutada 11

[Ku-winda]

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

 

[RR 314]

Awesome! Thanks for tagging me as I missed the inception of the write-up. I know that y’all had a great experience and killed some awesome animals. Great work! Subscribed for the rest!

 

[Ku-winda]

Damn, how could I have forgotten @ActionBob in my last post? He has become a great friend, and we corresponded throughout the trip as well. He was also kind enough to allow me to come practice off of sticks with him at his ranch prior to the hunt. The pic below is way cool and catches him just as he touches off his 505 Gibbs, Apologies my friend!

 

[SkullKeeper]

Damn, how could I have forgotten @ActionBob in my last post? He has become a great friend, and we corresponded throughout the trip as well. He was also kind enough to allow me to come practice off of sticks with him at his ranch prior to the hunt. The pic below is way cool and catches him just as he touches off his 505 Gibbs, Apologies my friend!View attachment 658681

Is that a Flamethrower Gibbs ?? Kills it and cooks it at the same time ! Ha!

 

[AZDAVE]

It was great seeing pictures of your safari while we were sitting beside a fire in Moz.

 

[Ku-winda]

LET's GO TO THE SAND FORESTS

We had spent the last three days on the flood plain and Bredger said it was time to go the sand forests, a collection of wide-open pans separated by a vast network of hardwoods and palms. We had two buffalo on quota, and I had told Bredger early on that I wanted Ian to experience a traditional buffalo hunt. Coutada 11 is widely known for their swamp hunts, but I felt it was important for Ian’s first buffalo to be one where he put in the miles and had the pleasure of watching the trackers work their magic. Consequently, we headed to the western part of the concession in search of buffalo and any other targets of opportunity that just might turn up. Bredger indicated the swamp buffalo don’t go into the forests and the forest buffalo don’t go into the swamps – they pretty much live out their existence wherever they were born. For a day and half, we had a multitude of walkabouts and stalks, but no shots were ever fired, and we never ran across fresh sign of buffalo. Right towards dark on the end of our second day in the sand forests, we pulled into a huge pan with light fading. As we surveyed a spattering of plains game animals in front of us, Vosco pointed out some black spots on the far side of the pan, which just happened to be the buffalo that had eluded us for the last day and a half. It was way too late to do anything at that point, but we made a plan to try and catch them early the next morning. Vosco indicated he had a pretty good idea of where they were going to water, and felt like we could pick up their spoor without much trouble the next day.

Typical stalks in the forest

Crossing a pan

The next morning, we were up at 4:30 and on the road by five. Bredger had a certain spot in mind he wanted to be at by 6:00 a.m., so we would just eat breakfast there in the bush. It gets light very early in MOZ that time of the year, and you could easily see well enough to shoot by 5:30 a.m., maybe earlier. We made good time and the tap on the cab told me Vosco was on to something. We stopped in a large, sandy grass flat where Vosco and Alberto got down to assess the track situation. Amongst the thousands of tracks that lay before us, they picked out the buffalo and determined they had already watered and were making their way into the forest. It never ceases to amaze me how adept the trackers are at discerning the old from the new and it doesn’t quite matter what country you are in. They are all truly masters of their craft and I was glad we had Vosco and Alberto on our team. We retreated a hundred yards to a stand of trees where we proceeded to dine on a breakfast of muffins along with bacon and egg sandwiches. We were all chomping at the bit to give chase, so it wasn’t long before we were on the spoor with rifles, backpacks and enough water to keep us going all day.

Vosco and Alberto were spread out on the wings probably ten yards apart, while Bredger was in the middle with Ian and me right behind him. It wasn’t long before Bredger pointed out a runny pile of dung and whispered, “they are close – really close!” We had been on the tracks maybe 30 minutes when Alberto lightly snapped his fingers, and we all froze. A quick glance at Alberto revealed he was gingerly pointing his index finger to our 1 o’clock for reference. As I crouched down, nothing jumped out at me with the naked eye, but when I put my binocs up, there they were – a long string of buffalo. Luckily, what little wind we had was right and there was ample cover between us and the buffalo, so we just zigzagged our way in, until we were right on the edge of the herd. The last fifty yards saw us making our way onto an elevated, ancient termite mound that was sizeable and had several large trees growing out of it with plenty of cover. Bredger and Vosco moved to the best vantage point to survey the herd, while the rest of us stayed low. They scoured the herd for the better part of ten minutes before putting up the sticks and motioning for Ian. He was up on the sticks in an instant. I still couldn’t see a thing but could hear Bredger trying to walk him in on the right bull. Now keep in mind I had been telling Ian for months about the difficulty of buffalo hunting and how you could easily spend days tracking before a shot presents itself, and here he was set up on sticks inside the first hour. I was torn between this being too easy and Ian not getting the full experience and not looking a gift horse in the mouth. No sooner had I pondered that question in my mind, than I felt a gust of wind on the back of my neck and the next thing I knew we had a herd of buffalo on the move. The entire hunting party quickly shifted to the left side of the old termite mound, and it was there that I saw the entire herd for the first time. They were bunched up at this point and I’m guessing there were between 75 and 100 of them. Bredger attempted to pick out the targeted bull again, but the wind continued to swirl and soon it was a thundering herd of buffalo with only a cloud of dust left behind. We waited a bit and then set off again, following what was, at this point, a pretty easy trail. I asked Bredger about the bulls in the herd as we walked and he said there were some young studs in the group, but he only saw one, fully formed, hard boss bull.

Setting up right out of the gate

Second position - trying to pick out the herd bull before they all bolted

We finally caught up to the herd a little over an hour later and slowed to a snail’s pace the last couple hundred yards. It was at this point that I got indoctrinated into what crawling in the sand forests was like. A great deal of the concession, including this area had been subjected to controlled burns in the prior weeks. This left burned out stubble that felt like needles to the bare knee. Consequently, you had a choice when crawling – either suck it up and brave the stubble or find a spot of bare sand, which pretty much feels like coals once the sun heats it up. I found neither option to be particularly appealing, but it didn’t slow our progress, and we were soon right on the edge of the herd. Bredger, Vosco and Alberto set about finding our bull and just about the time they had him pinned down, the wind shifted, and they were off once again. This entire process repeated itself two more times and we were now over five hours into the tracking session, having covered approximately four and a half miles. This last time the buffalo went thundering off, Bredger said we needed to let them settle down, so we retreated and made the long walk back to the truck to have lunch and regroup. Vosco said they were headed towards one of the largest pans in that part of the concession and would have to cross a road, where he thought we could pick up the track again.

We had lunch at the cruiser, managed to rehydrate and rest a bit before heading back out to see if we could pick up their spoor. After a short drive, we found where the buffalo had crossed the road and set out in pursuit once more. We followed them for another hour through the forest and ultimately came to the vast pan Vosco had described. The good news was the buffalo were indeed in the pan; the bad news was they were about 500 yards out in the middle without much cover to get any closer. The majority of the herd was bedded down, while a few stragglers were still grazing and milling about. What had at first appeared to be flat ground in between us with no cover, was in reality a series of channels and wallows with some high grass and a scattered bush or palm here and there. Consequently, Bredger sorted out our game plan and tasked Vosco with charting a course to get us within shooting range. The wind was brisk and perfectly in our face and the sun was at our back, so we at least had those two key variables in our favor. Five hundred yards soon turned to three hundred yards, and it wasn’t long before we were within two hundred and fifty yards under the cover of a small palm. Bredger said if we could just get to the next clump of palms about one hundred fifty yards from our current post, we should be in a position to set up for a shot. Unfortunately, that meant crawling and it turned out to be absolutely brutal on the old man. I was in the rear and at least ten minutes behind everyone else. Bredger had already surveyed the situation and determined we couldn’t shoot from there, as the buffalo had started to feed and move towards the forest on the far side of the pan, but fortunately were still unaware of our presence. He pointed to a big clump of grass about one hundred yards farther and said we need to get to that spot. My knees were bloodied and bruised at this point, and I knew I would only slow them down and maybe put the stalk in jeopardy. Consequently, I told them I would sit tight and film the operation in process – Bredger nodded with his ok.

I was pretty much in the catbird seat, and it was really cool to watch everything unfold from my vantage spot, watching the four of them cover the open ground like military commandos on a mission. They soon made it to their desired location, and I watched them glass for the next 15 minutes. Finally, the sticks went up and Ian was on them for several more minutes before I saw a puff of smoke and heard the bullet strike. All were up on their feet in an instant glassing and after about a minute, Bredger raised his arms in triumph and waived me over. Unfortunately, I missed the death bellow, but I did get there in time to witness the other young bulls in the herd gore and kick the herd bull on the ground and I'm certain they weren’t trying to help him up. It always amazes me how when in chase, the mere sight or smell of a human will send the herd running, but once an animal goes down, you almost have to chase them off. In any case, it was a proper buffalo hunt of nine plus hours in total and we just couldn’t wipe that grin off Ian’s face – he was hooked for life, just like the rest of us. He had earned his first buffalo, and I could not have been more proud of him and felt very fortunate to share in that experience. Bredger, Vosco and Alberto had all done a tremendous job that day and they were all becoming big fans of the 9.3x62 and its lethality. Pics and 2M’s were now in order and the ride home was one big celebration!

The crawl

The Shot

Buff down

Team Bredger w/Ian's buff - Alberto, Ian, Bredger and Vosco

Ian and his first buff

Ian and Dad

Ian with buff head

Celebrating the moment - Bredger, Craig and Ian

Next up: MEAT DROP

 

[Frederik]

Lovely well done on the 1st of many buffalo to come.