DAY #6:
6:15 am, Breakfast as usual.
6:45 AM, on the truck with Adab as my trusty PH and also Eric as our trusty Driver / Tracker and off we roll.
An hour or so later, I spot the legs of an unknown animal, in the shade of a very short, thick little tree.
It, was way up in a shallow canyon or "drainage", just below the saddle that, connected two mountains.
How my elderly, citified, white man eyes saw that animal's legs, mostly concealed by shadow, at half a kilometer distance, from my perch in the back of a moving truck, remains a mystery.
Anyway, we stop to glass it and right away Adab declares it a bull kudu.
With my 10x binos I could see it was probably a kudu but as for the gender, I could not say it was either one, just that it sort of looked like a kudu, (it's head was behind the branches).
Within perhaps less than a minute, Adab and myself found two more kudus up there, all bulls.
One looked like a real bruiser, with those loose or "shallow" curls that you sometimes see on the occasional kudu bull, giving the illusion of his horns being almost as long as the animal's body is - LOL.
Also, the original one who's legs had betrayed his hiding place, eventually walked out into the sun light.
All three of these animals finally in full view were mature bulls, sporting 3 curls per horn but, that one really was a spectacle, compared to either of his two "normal looking" comrades (they had "tighter" curls).
For all of you tape measure hunters out there, I doubt he was much more in measurement than his companions there, it's just that with the shallow curls, his horns looked as if they stuck out from his head a loooong way.
At Adab's instruction, Eric drove us a few hundred meters around to the bottom of one of those mountains and shut off the motor.
Adab and myself then began what for lack of a better descriptor, would be call a "Mount Everest Expedition", with our attempt to find my aforementioned "lair of the kudu".
Once more, I was glad I decided to cut way back on the starchy food and put many miles on my hunting shoes, well in advance of this hunting trip.
Adab was 50 years young and myself 64 but he walked uphill like a track star and I believe that I may have caused irreversible damage to the O-Zone by sucking away all the oxygen up there.
But, I made it without having to stop until reaching an elevation, slightly higher than the elevation of the saddle itself.
We had hiked up this steep mountain for an hour or more.
The mountain peak concealed our approach to said saddle and we slowed way down as we skirted around it, the breeze in our faces.
Walking very slowly, I was able to regain my air in time to cautiously peer downward, into the canyon from above.
We spent 20 or 30 minutes there, including trying 3 or 4 different vantage points to stop and scrutinize the shallow canyon below but, the 3 bulls were evidently gone.
So, we eased our way down through there, just in case they had laid down in some rocks or brush ..... no dice.
Adab figured they likely had figured us out, before we got there and bolted beyond the other peak and across the landscape to some unknown place.
And I silently figured he did not try to track them because if I sacked one, we'd have to disassemble it and carry the elk like pieces down to a level enough place for the truck.
This thought did not bother me in the slightest though, because there was kudu sign everywhere, including within a few hundred meters of the house.
So, I figured I'd get another crack at this specie before my time was up (turns out I was right).
STEINBOCK:
We made it back to the vehicle and pounded down plenty of water, and then drove onward.
When we had not rolled more than about 400 meters, a steinbock ram bolted from cover, ran uphill only a few meters and stopped to glare back at us.
Adab tapped on the roof and we stopped rolling, a short ways past him by then.
The ram bolted again but, very soon it stopped again, this time, somewhat concealed behind the brush and grass, at perhaps 30 meters behind and above us.
We quickly unhinged ourselves from the bakkie and tip-toed back in the direction we had driven from.
The ram bolted one more time but stopped in the clear, quartering toward us, at about 60 meters.
By then Adab had set the sticks and I shot this steinbock on the shoulder.
Probably due to the small target not offering much resistance, my 270 grain round nose soft just poked a .37 caliber hole going in and perhaps a US 25 cent coin size hole, if even that, going out the far side, just behind that shoulder.
I gave this cape to my old hunting mate, Dale as he had splattered his steinbock badly, by means of the .300 Winchester he shot his with at close range.
He wanted a shoulder mount and usually I prefer only Euro-Style skull mounts (being as I'm a cheap skate and all).
We made it back to camp in time for lunch (12:15 PM)
Unknown (but delicious as always) game fillets in sauce, carrot mash, roasted new potato halves with olive oil and coarse salt crust, fresh green salad, Greek vinaigrette dressing with little goat cheese (feta) cubes.
After an hour or so long cat-nap, we gathered at 3:15 PM for coffee and "velvet cupcakes" (sort of cherry-chocolate flavored and bright red colored cup cakes).
I tried to moderate my sugar intake on this trip but, it surely was not easy, as the cooks were tip-top, in all culinary styles, including sweet baked goods.
3:30 PM, I sat down at the shooting bench with the trusty Brno .375 again.
Since I had used up the few Federal / 270 grain cartridges, Philip decided to break into his stash of live factory PMP ammunition, with 300 grain round nose bullets.
These proved to be my mojo for both incredibly accurate groups, 100 and 200 meters respectfully and effectiveness on game, without ruining much edible meat - perfect combination.
3:45 PM, off we (Adab, Eric and myself) roll to hunt again.
4:30 PM, Dale's PH, Isaak ("Eee-sock"), radioed Eric, saying they had spotted two mature kudu bulls, up on some mountain, about a half hour drive from where we were at that point in time.
5:something PM, (you can't drive fast over most of the terrain in those mountains, due to the rocky ground), we arrived and these kudus were pointed out to us.
Both bulls were browsing slowly along, across a wide valley from us and high up on a mountain over there, I'd say approximately 1 kilometer, in a straight line, "as the crow flies".
Looking through his binoculars, Adab quickly determined one bull to be a mature but still a bit young and the other to be older and suitable for taking.
Eric went with us as we began our hike around to our right at first, so that these animals would not see us marching straight at them.
We made it to the bottom of the mountain, without being detected and then began our ascent, well concealed by trees, brush and very large rocks over the entire right side of this mountain.
Thankfully, the grade was not especially steep from this "side route" either (the middle of this mountain, directly in front of and below the kudus, looked very steep, when we were in the bakkie, glassing straight at them).
About 3 or 400 meters short of where we believed them to be, Adab had me chamber a round and we slowed our progress to a cautious snail's pace, stopping often to examine every kudu-like feature up ahead of us.
At that stage, everything began to look like a kudu to me, every rock a shoulder hump, every stick a horn.
About an hour and a half later, as we were engaged in one of these stops, one of the bulls appeared about 150 meters ahead, still feeding.
Although he was not "the one", he had a full head of horns and I enjoyed watching him for perhaps 5 minutes or so.
Eventually, the older one also appeared.
However, he seemed a bit nervous and began walking fast from right to left, always behind plenty of bush.
Adab set the sticks and said "wait", so I slowly placed my rifle and waited.
Suddenly, the bull we wanted turned hard right and jumped on top of a ridge of rock and dirt that, was averaging perhaps one and a half meters high, effectively placing him pretty much sky-lined.
There he froze but unfortunately, he was facing almost straight away from us, only slightly quartering to the left but again, almost not quartering.
Adab whispered "shoo-tim" so, I put my crosswires on his left side flank (gut), just immediately ahead of his left ham and torched one off.
Although the shot felt perfect, I did not hear the music of a kugel slag and the bull leaped like a giant frog, landing out of my view.
I chambered another round, dreading having only wounded but, Adab and Eric both grinning ear to ear, assured me he was down and that I had made a perfect shot, to include patting me on the back and shaking my hand vigorously.
Nonetheless, I pressed on with that live round still chambered.
As we reached the top of the little bluff which the kudu had stood upon when shot, I could then see him, perhaps 15 or 20 meters to our left front, laying in a grassy spot, apparently quite dead.
My 300 grainer had impacted exactly where I intended, and when this kudu was butchered, they found my bullet was a perfect mushroom, against the right side brisket.
It appeared that, PMP 300 grain round nose softs might be bonded core to jacket (?)
Anyway, the men walked down to get the bakkie.
It was a bit of an ordeal to get the bakkie up there but they made it, by crawling it up the left side of the mountain.
We arrived in camp too late for sundowners at the evening fire and supper was served at 8:00 PM.
Would've been dangerous to have a fire anyway, due to high wind / storm approaching and one bush fire was reported to Dietmar already, due to a lightening strike.
But it was a long way off and not blowing toward our direction.
At supper, we met 3 Frenchmen, who were there to hunt primarily Hartmann zebra and oryx.
2 of the 3 spoke perfect English and they were very fine fellows who loved to hunt as much as any of us.
We dined on oryx schnitzel, gravy, all the usual side dishes.
Danny ("DoubleLunger") reported having taken a mature male baboon, by means of his PH's Remington Model 700, .375 H&H / Leupold scope.
His PH, Errens added to Danny's "report" that, the shot was a long one and the monkey was walking, not stationary and the shot was perfect (I believe 260 meters).
After supper, one of the French chaps issued to all of us who wanted them, Cuban cigars (Partagas) and Nicaraguan Rum.
TO BE CONTINUED ....