@GreenT I enjoyed your hunt report........Very nice buffalo, would sure like to hear more details on the stalk, the shot, the rifle.....and the bullet....etc. Enjoyed the fotos as well. Sounds as if you got good value for your money. I have hunted Niassa.....and it is quite unlike anywhere else I have ever been.....congrats...FWB
Hoo boy! The buffalo hunt was really quite a story, but I'll try to make it compact for easy reading.
During the first week of hunting we were really focused on the leopard, but we made a detour one afternoon to a local village that asked for help in removing a buffalo that was causing problems. My PH, Leo, located it and got me in position for a shot, but as soon as I got a good look at the horns I said no, it's not what I want. Leo insisted that it was a good bull, and I fully agreed, but not the one I came for. It didn't have the features I had described to Leo. I think he was disappointed in me, so later on I showed him some photos of the kinds of horns I was looking for in a big bull. "Oh! Yes, we can do that!" Now we're on the same page.
After the successful leopard hunt we focused on the buffalo. One afternoon we cut some tracks on a roadway and Leo and the trackers started following. The area was miambo woodland surrounding a depression that was a big marshy area. We closed in on the buffalo and I got a good look at its left horn through the brush. Yes, that's what I'm looking for! The buffalo disappeared, but now we could go to where it was standing and identify it's specific track. Turns out one of the hooves on its right front foot was a bit longer than the other one, so based on that unique signature the trackers could follow that specific bull.
We tracked that buffalo through the elephant grass and woodland for the rest of the day. We bumped him three more times, but never got a clean shot, and then it just got too late in the day to continue. The bull was basically circling the area, so Leo felt confident we could return and find him still there the next day.
Well, over the course of the next five days we made three more attempts to stalk this bull (there was other, incidental plains game hunting going on as well). My brother had nicknamed him "Big Toe". At one point I said to Leo, "It doesn't have to be this one, exactly. We could go after another one that looks similar." But Leo had it in his mind that this is the one he was going to put me on.
So, the final stalk took place near a village where a woman had been killed by a buffalo just a year or two prior. We were following Big Toe and two other bulls in and out of little vegetable fields. "Looks like he's trying to get his salad in", Leo remarked. We went for many hours, over several miles, losing the track, finding it again, constantly glassing ahead. Then we were in a relatively open, grassy area with a scattering of trees, with one little grove providing some meaningful shade. Now if I were a buffalo who had been grazing all morning, I would love to be laying down under those trees for a little rest during the hot afternoon, I thought to myself. So I started glassing, absolutely intent on finding a snippet of buffalo through the grass. I mean, I was REALLY concentrating on finding that bull, but I didn't see anything, and we pressed on, on a kind of oblique angle to the grove.
Then Leo and Maxwell snapped to attention. Leo looked at me wide-eyed and said, "Oxpeckers!" Their call was the tattletale that the buffalo were nearby. Soon Maxwell identified a buffalo lying down, completely on its side like a dog. We had already moved into position for a better view, and now we moved in even closer to set up for a shot. The wind was not good, hitting us on the shoulder from the rear and threatening to give us away. We were only 60 or 70 yards away when one of the bulls stood up, facing away from us. It seemed like it was alerted, but not yet alarmed. Then it turned its head and we could see that left horn. "That's him!" Leo shout whispered in my ear. I was already on the sticks, but the bull was moving around, like he was trying to figure out what woke him up. Leo was predicting his every move, like a mind reader, and finally said, "He's going to turn broadside, facing left. If you want him just shoot right into the chest". Then the bull turned broadside, facing left, and I shot him in the chest. He dropped right in his tracks, and the other two buffalo dashed off to the right and stopped. "Those are both shooters too, if you want another one", Leo said. "Better reload regardless."
We walked up to the buffalo directly from its back. Leo told me to put another one right between its shoulder blades for good measure. The 400 grain Swift A-Frame .416 Rem Mag actually rocked that bull when it hit. There were a few twitches left in it, then it was time for handshakes and back slapping and getting ready for photos.
I think it was my brother who picked up that right front foot, where one hoof was slightly longer than the other.
I'm going to try adding some photos in order. The first is that grove of trees I mentioned, where the buffalo were laying; the moment we came on the buffalo (Leo's in front, then tracker Maxwell, me in the white shirt, and tracker Phillipe); a shot of Big Toe's signature; group effort; recovered bullets.