Problem leopards, marauding lions and hyenas, crop raiding bulls, the start of DG hunting for me...

[Newboomer]

Great story and some valuable teaching points.

 

[IvW]

@lvW did you go to the twin at karoi. ..?

Yes been there a few times, but never stayed there

 

[Bullthrower338]

I’m in!

 

[IvW]

I was up before dawn again the excitement preventing me from further sleep. I quietly got up and brewed some tea.

Eventually Mr. A joined me and we had a conversation regarding the bullets I would use as he said I would have to use the “Fun gun” as he had no ammo for the 7x57mm. I was not too worried but I was concerned as he brought out a packet of 7.62 x 51mm military FMJ spitser bullets. This did not seem to be a problem for him as he went to the kitchen and returned with a pair of side cutters and proceeded to cut the points of some bullets off exposing the lead core and handed them to me. The “Fun gun” however was nowhere to be seen.

He then said we were to check the bait using the horses and not the “Blue machine”. Not a problem for me.

Off to the workshop I went with the 5 bullets I had been given where I met up with Tendai. I showed him the bullets and asked him for a file. After much digging around in the very disorganized workshop we found one. I used this to file the tips flat and to an even size which made the bullets look better.

Tendai knew we would be checking the bait using the horses and had gotten them ready while Mr. A and I were busy with the bullets and having tea on the veranda.

We took off and on the way me and Tendai had some more conversation regarding leopard hunting. He explained that the bait although close to the ground, would have the leopard either standing up or even reaching up to the bait. He further explained that we had to be patient and allow the leopard time to properly feed before he would put the light on at which time I needed to shoot without hesitation. He pointed on his shoulder where he recommended I shoot the leopard. He warned me never to urinate close to the bait. When we got closer to the bait he also motioned me not to make too much noise.

As soon as we got close to the bait it was obvious that the leopard had fed during the night. There was still a fair amount of meat left on the carcass. Without dismounting we checked the tracks around the bait. We then left the bait back to the homestead. When we were a fair distance away Tendai mentioned that the tracks where from a mature male and he further shared with me that the leopard had fed early or just after dark the previous evening. How do you know this I asked him? He then told me that he had seen the tracks of other small nocturnal animals that had criss crossed those of the leopard after it had fed. I was amazed at the knowledge of this bush encyclopedia and was determined to learn as much as I could from him. He said we should be in the tree blind by no later than 4pm as the leopard may come just at or after dark.

We got back to the workshop, unsaddled the horses and brushed them down before turning them loose in a paddock. The rest of the day was spent doing other chores around the workshop and homestead. After lunch and a siesta (which I could not do), Mr. A said right let’s get ready. We then got the car battery and spot light as well as the “Fun gun” all loaded in the “Blue machine”. Mr. A asked if I knew were to shoot the leopard and after I said yes he said well let’s go.

The drive back to the bait was a quite affair, when we got there no words were spoken. Tendai took the battery and spot light up the tree stand and I took the “Fun gun”. As soon as we had settle in on top of the wooden platform Mr. A turned the “Blue machine” around and headed back the way we had come.

Tendai and I settled in. He got the spotlight connected up and ready. I got into position and took aim through the scope and making sure I was comfortable. I then loaded the rifle and chambered a round and put the rifle on safe. It was 16h10. Tendai I noticed had also attached the fishing line to his wrist and then gave me the thumbs up sign and promptly closed his eyes and dosed off.

The quietness of the bush gripped me and as I lay there on the platform on a blanket to deaden any noise, I realized this is it, I am actually getting ready to hunt my first DG animal.

It felt like time was standing still I could not keep my eyes off the bait, it was still early. As we waited and about 20 min after Mr. A had departed, the bush sounds came back. The birds were chirping and the heat of the day had now dissipated. Tendai it appeared was fast asleep, clearly he had done this before.

Time very slowly crept by, as the shadows started to lengthen and the sun dipped below the western horizon it all of a sudden became deathly quiet…my hart seemed to automatically quicken in pace, my hart beat sounded in my ears and I was worried I would wake Tendai. My mouth was all of a sudden very dry and I instinctively gave a dry swallow…..this was like lying in an ambush waiting and your sixth sense kicks in and signals you that action is imminent....

 

[sambarhunter]

Good stuff!

 

[spike.t]

Yes been there a few times, but never stayed there

When were you drinking there...as very good friends family owned it ....his old man was rufus

 

[CBH Australia]

Aah we are missing something, please write

 

[GA Hunter]

Good stuff so far.

 

[mikecatt13]

Subscribed, cant wait to hear the rest!

 

[IvW]

When were you drinking there...as very good friends family owned it ....his old man was rufus

'89 on wards.

My friends family and other friends lived at the Buffalo Downs butchery compound. The butchery was owned by Willie Duim (He was a big farmer in the area and also had a camp on the Zambezi in Chirundu). Sadi, who was Ozie's wife was my Friend Andre Swart's sister. Other people from the community were Ben Bek, Be Kotze, aunti Phillis and so on, maybe you knew some of them. We always stayed at the compound that consisted of 4 houses and then the butchery that was situated on the main road about 20 k's before Karoi.

 

[spike.t]

'89 on wards.

My friends family and other friends lived at the Buffalo Downs butchery compound. The butchery was owned by Willie Duim (He was a big farmer in the area and also had a camp on the Zambezi in Chirundu). Sadi, who was Ozie's wife was my Friend Andre Swart's sister. Other people from the community were Ben Bek, Be Kotze, aunti Phillis and so on, maybe you knew some of them. We always stayed at the compound that consisted of 4 houses and then the butchery that was situated on the main road about 20 k's before Karoi.

No don't know them. I only went to the twin once when in Zim and was staying with my friend in Harare..we drove up to kariba and stopped at the twin for the night on the way to say hi to his mum....Can't remember exactly when...but around 1993/4....his father Rufus Snyman had passed away by then and I think his mother sold it not long after.... But his father was one of the local legends.... And Gerald has told me some lunatic stories about his father's antics....Hannes wessels dedicated a whole chapter in one of his books to an incident at the twin involving Rufus and another legend Dave Masson.....think it's name was strange tales from the African bush.....sorry to go off on a tangent but you mentioning karoi made me think of the stories Gerald told me....most people wouldn't believe being true.....

 

[IvW]

No don't know them. I only went to the twin once when in Zim and was staying with my friend in Harare..we drove up to kariba and stopped at the twin for the night on the way to say hi to his mum....Can't remember exactly when...but around 1993/4....his father Rufus Snyman had passed away by then and I think his mother sold it not long after.... But his father was one of the local legends.... And Gerald has told me some lunatic stories about his father's antics....Hannes wessels dedicated a whole chapter in one of his books to an incident at the twin involving Rufus and another legend Dave Masson.....think it's name was strange tales from the African bush.....sorry to go off on a tangent but you mentioning karoi made me think of the stories Gerald told me....most people wouldn't believe being true.....

Hannes Wessels a legend in his own right.

Hannes Wessels was born in 1956 in Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia (now Harare, Zimbabwe) but grew up in Umtali on the Mozambican border. As a boy, holidays were spent with Game Department rangers; time on safari in Mozambique with the late Wally Johnson was a big influence on him. Wessels also grew to know Robert Ruark whose love of Africa, its people, politics and the written word left a lasting impression. He saw action in the Rhodesian bush war before acquiring a law degree which he chose not to use. He has hunted big game in Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia and Tanzania in a 20-year career. In 1994 he was severely gored by a wounded buffalo which almost cost him his life. While no longer directly involved in hunting, he is part-owner of a lodge and game ranch in Zambia on the Zambezi and remains keenly interested in all matters relating to African wildlife and conservation. He has published Strange Tales from Africa in the USA, a collection of anecdotes from his hunting days. He is also a syndicated writer for Outdoor Life in the United States and is currently writing a history on the Rhodesian SAS. He is married to Mandy and has two daughters, Hope and Jana, and lives in Darling in the Western Cape of South Africa.

There were a lot of crazy things done and yes most would not believe have the sh.. guys got up to.

Below is an extract and I believe this is the same Dave Masson you may be referring to.

Dave Masson, Character and Leader second to none.

A natural, he had everything, good looks, a head on his shoulders, a sportsman and athlete of note and an innate authority. In form four, meaning he still had two full more years of school to do, he was Captain of Matabeleland (province), schools’ in both cricket and rugby. Now isn’t that something really special? Unfortunately he had a wee bit of trouble with authority, and thus never represented Rhodesian schools at either of these disciplines, how sad. “Masson get a haircut.” “No, I am on holiday.” “If you do not get a haircut we will not choose you for Rhodesian schools cricket/rugby.” “OK, don’t choose me then.” See what I mean? Which reminds me, at Plumtree school he was running in the 200 metres wearing his blue shorts (Grey house colours). It was


The 100 metre dash at sports week-end.

being timed to see who made the final heat for sports week – end. Masson is coming around the corner leading the field and into the final straight. His skin tight blue shorts split in the front. Oh, dear Lord, he is not wearing underpants, and his member is slapping between both thighs. Without batting an eyelid or missing a stride or beat Masson shouts out, “don’t look Ma’am.” There was a big turn out it being the final heats, and the masters wives are out in force. They all burst out laughing fit to bust a gut. What I mean is, if it had been any one else, they would of been marched off to the headmasters office for six cuts. Aye the shame o’ it. Do ye see what I mean by a natural and innate authority now? Now his parents are cattle ranchers and a bit short of a few Bob. As another woman was so heard to say at the sports week-end farewell dinner. “Christ Barry (Dave’s Dad), is that your de-mob suit?” Second world war veterans will understand if any are still left alive and we owe them all so much? So Dave was a bit short of pocket money, not that he needed it as he had a foolproof system. Being. On returning from any sporting endeavour being rugby, cricket, or athletics, on the way to his study he would pop his head into the middle dormitory. Whoever he spotted was subjected to, “Babb, two or a coke (Coca Cola)?” Invariably they chose coke as opposed to being beaten two strokes with his cane. “Kinleyside, two or a coke?” Kinleyside replies with two, being another well known schmack. Masson then says, “four or a coke?” And so on and so forth, and when he came back from his bath had a line of cokes on his desk. Do ye see what I mean? Now one evening I was in a foul mood and even though Masson is a few years older he took a shine to me, him and my older brother being best friends. He gets me up to, “48 or a coke?” I say, “48” so he says, “OK come inside” and laughs. He beats me all 48 strokes and when finished, I say, “can I have some more please Sir?” In my best Oliver voice. I learnt something that evening which was, sometimes, one is so angry that one is beyond pain or caring and I finally understood why the Gestapo for example just couldn’t break some people. Of course when Masson returned from his shower he got me up to, “six or a coke” and my reply, “six.” He burst out laughing and just went into his study. A couple of nights later I bought him a coke without any prompting from him and slipped a note under it which read. “Here’s a coke for you with pleasure from Spook’s lily white ass and sometimes you don’t have to threaten people you know?” Damn skunk always winning and in the pound seats.

I bumped into Dave many times after leaving school and his basic character never changed. The things he could make people do


Myself at Dave’s 21st. birthday party.

and get away with himself were legendary. Many of these things I personally never saw but were related back to me. When he was in the Police force doing his National Service, he used to borrow a Land Rover and head off to the Victoria Falls hotel and casino, only getting back in the early hours of the morning. Then he used to go on patrol looking for terrorists dressed in his underpants and more often or not, forgetting to take his FN rifle with him as well. You can bet your bottom dollar that even like this the ‘gooks’ (terrorists), were too frightened to take a pot shot at him. Of course he was never reprimanded for unofficially ‘borrowing’ the Land Rovers either. Just how did he manage to get away with all this? Which again reminds me. When that lunatic and despot Mugabe finally attained power he made it imperative that he rounded up everyone’s weapons. Are you listening America? Dave’s youngest brother, about to attend University in South Africa, buried his in a cache on their ranch. Sadly, one of his labourers reported him, and he was in huge trouble facing a jail sentence. Dave heard about it, and cut short whatever he was doing and went to the authorities and told them his little brother had nothing to do with it and it was him. How typically Dave. So Dave went to jail and his brother went to University. Here is where it gets funny again. They sent him to the Marlborough police station which had a couple of prison cells. Little did they know that during the war years Dave was Superintendent in Charge there. So the new order had retained the old black Police staff being short themselves, which was OK, anything, provided you were not white of course. They were of course delighted to see their old Master and he was getting saluted and received 5 star treatment in his sojourn there. I’ll have the roast beef and three veg glancing at the menu. He pitched up years later at the farm Marsden in Norton to see his old Police mate Neil Wrench whose parents had a splendid home and set up. Neil had organised a tennis, swimming day there followed by a braai (barbecue). Dave Masson pitched while we were playing touch rugby with the girls. As always from the moment he arrived, things livened up. He joined the line with a hearty cry of, “grab a boob, grab a boob.” Laughter, shrieks and gasps, some of the women even fainted in anticipatory bliss.

Dave Masson died in his early forties after succumbing to cancer. Years later I bumped into Lubbe Robinson the old house master at a cricket International and we got to talking about Dave. I was saying that it was such a tragedy he died so young. Lubbe wouldn’t have it and said to me, that Dave ‘lived’ more in his forty odd years on earth than most people would if they lived to be a hundred. That’s what I mean about Characters of Plumtree School, magic people, magic masters (some of them), and magic times. So Dave wherever you are, just, “grab a boob man.”

 

[spike.t]

Hannes Wessels a legend in his own right.

Hannes Wessels was born in 1956 in Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia (now Harare, Zimbabwe) but grew up in Umtali on the Mozambican border. As a boy, holidays were spent with Game Department rangers; time on safari in Mozambique with the late Wally Johnson was a big influence on him. Wessels also grew to know Robert Ruark whose love of Africa, its people, politics and the written word left a lasting impression. He saw action in the Rhodesian bush war before acquiring a law degree which he chose not to use. He has hunted big game in Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia and Tanzania in a 20-year career. In 1994 he was severely gored by a wounded buffalo which almost cost him his life. While no longer directly involved in hunting, he is part-owner of a lodge and game ranch in Zambia on the Zambezi and remains keenly interested in all matters relating to African wildlife and conservation. He has published Strange Tales from Africa in the USA, a collection of anecdotes from his hunting days. He is also a syndicated writer for Outdoor Life in the United States and is currently writing a history on the Rhodesian SAS. He is married to Mandy and has two daughters, Hope and Jana, and lives in Darling in the Western Cape of South Africa.

There were a lot of crazy things done and yes most would not believe have the sh.. guys got up to.

Below is an extract and I believe this is the same Dave Masson you may be referring to.

Dave Masson, Character and Leader second to none.

A natural, he had everything, good looks, a head on his shoulders, a sportsman and athlete of note and an innate authority. In form four, meaning he still had two full more years of school to do, he was Captain of Matabeleland (province), schools’ in both cricket and rugby. Now isn’t that something really special? Unfortunately he had a wee bit of trouble with authority, and thus never represented Rhodesian schools at either of these disciplines, how sad. “Masson get a haircut.” “No, I am on holiday.” “If you do not get a haircut we will not choose you for Rhodesian schools cricket/rugby.” “OK, don’t choose me then.” See what I mean? Which reminds me, at Plumtree school he was running in the 200 metres wearing his blue shorts (Grey house colours). It was


The 100 metre dash at sports week-end.

being timed to see who made the final heat for sports week – end. Masson is coming around the corner leading the field and into the final straight. His skin tight blue shorts split in the front. Oh, dear Lord, he is not wearing underpants, and his member is slapping between both thighs. Without batting an eyelid or missing a stride or beat Masson shouts out, “don’t look Ma’am.” There was a big turn out it being the final heats, and the masters wives are out in force. They all burst out laughing fit to bust a gut. What I mean is, if it had been any one else, they would of been marched off to the headmasters office for six cuts. Aye the shame o’ it. Do ye see what I mean by a natural and innate authority now? Now his parents are cattle ranchers and a bit short of a few Bob. As another woman was so heard to say at the sports week-end farewell dinner. “Christ Barry (Dave’s Dad), is that your de-mob suit?” Second world war veterans will understand if any are still left alive and we owe them all so much? So Dave was a bit short of pocket money, not that he needed it as he had a foolproof system. Being. On returning from any sporting endeavour being rugby, cricket, or athletics, on the way to his study he would pop his head into the middle dormitory. Whoever he spotted was subjected to, “Babb, two or a coke (Coca Cola)?” Invariably they chose coke as opposed to being beaten two strokes with his cane. “Kinleyside, two or a coke?” Kinleyside replies with two, being another well known schmack. Masson then says, “four or a coke?” And so on and so forth, and when he came back from his bath had a line of cokes on his desk. Do ye see what I mean? Now one evening I was in a foul mood and even though Masson is a few years older he took a shine to me, him and my older brother being best friends. He gets me up to, “48 or a coke?” I say, “48” so he says, “OK come inside” and laughs. He beats me all 48 strokes and when finished, I say, “can I have some more please Sir?” In my best Oliver voice. I learnt something that evening which was, sometimes, one is so angry that one is beyond pain or caring and I finally understood why the Gestapo for example just couldn’t break some people. Of course when Masson returned from his shower he got me up to, “six or a coke” and my reply, “six.” He burst out laughing and just went into his study. A couple of nights later I bought him a coke without any prompting from him and slipped a note under it which read. “Here’s a coke for you with pleasure from Spook’s lily white ass and sometimes you don’t have to threaten people you know?” Damn skunk always winning and in the pound seats.

I bumped into Dave many times after leaving school and his basic character never changed. The things he could make people do


Myself at Dave’s 21st. birthday party.

and get away with himself were legendary. Many of these things I personally never saw but were related back to me. When he was in the Police force doing his National Service, he used to borrow a Land Rover and head off to the Victoria Falls hotel and casino, only getting back in the early hours of the morning. Then he used to go on patrol looking for terrorists dressed in his underpants and more often or not, forgetting to take his FN rifle with him as well. You can bet your bottom dollar that even like this the ‘gooks’ (terrorists), were too frightened to take a pot shot at him. Of course he was never reprimanded for unofficially ‘borrowing’ the Land Rovers either. Just how did he manage to get away with all this? Which again reminds me. When that lunatic and despot Mugabe finally attained power he made it imperative that he rounded up everyone’s weapons. Are you listening America? Dave’s youngest brother, about to attend University in South Africa, buried his in a cache on their ranch. Sadly, one of his labourers reported him, and he was in huge trouble facing a jail sentence. Dave heard about it, and cut short whatever he was doing and went to the authorities and told them his little brother had nothing to do with it and it was him. How typically Dave. So Dave went to jail and his brother went to University. Here is where it gets funny again. They sent him to the Marlborough police station which had a couple of prison cells. Little did they know that during the war years Dave was Superintendent in Charge there. So the new order had retained the old black Police staff being short themselves, which was OK, anything, provided you were not white of course. They were of course delighted to see their old Master and he was getting saluted and received 5 star treatment in his sojourn there. I’ll have the roast beef and three veg glancing at the menu. He pitched up years later at the farm Marsden in Norton to see his old Police mate Neil Wrench whose parents had a splendid home and set up. Neil had organised a tennis, swimming day there followed by a braai (barbecue). Dave Masson pitched while we were playing touch rugby with the girls. As always from the moment he arrived, things livened up. He joined the line with a hearty cry of, “grab a boob, grab a boob.” Laughter, shrieks and gasps, some of the women even fainted in anticipatory bliss.

Dave Masson died in his early forties after succumbing to cancer. Years later I bumped into Lubbe Robinson the old house master at a cricket International and we got to talking about Dave. I was saying that it was such a tragedy he died so young. Lubbe wouldn’t have it and said to me, that Dave ‘lived’ more in his forty odd years on earth than most people would if they lived to be a hundred. That’s what I mean about Characters of Plumtree School, magic people, magic masters (some of them), and magic times. So Dave wherever you are, just, “grab a boob man.”

Yup that's Masson....and I have known Hannes for long time..... And yeah the one bout him being in prison and basically him running it while locked up is one of the good tales....but as said the other ones I have heard bout what Rufus got up to, and him also.....well people would think talking bullshit

 

[AZDAVE]

Enjoying the adventure please continue, some of the people we meet along life's path touch us in amazing ways.

 

[IvW]

Now it is common knowledge that a big kudu bull is referred to as the “Grey Ghost” for its ability to be there one minute and then just disappear into the bush like it was never there to start with. Now the opposite is true of the leopard, one minute there is nothing the next the leopard is there as if appearing like a phantom…I had never seen him approach despite the fact that I had not moved my eyes from the bait…

This is exactly what happened, one minute I am watching the bait intensely the next minute a large male leopard is there, mouth open and the tail curled up exposing the bottom white tip….

Although the sun had set behind the horizon, the leopard was clearly visible…I slowly reach for the “Fun gun” and then froze….Tendai had said not to shoot until the leopard started feeding and was relaxed…what the hell was I supposed to do!!! My mentor was fast asleep, it was not yet dark and we had a large leopard at the bait….

I did not want to touch Tendai for fear of him not knowing the leopard was there making a noise which would blow the whole deal. As I watched the leopard did not start feeding straight away but rather after having a look around flopped down and started a series of rolling actions in the sand, much like a house cat does.

While the leopard was rolling around, what appeared to me scent marking the area close to the bait, I took this opportunity to slowly place my hand on Tendai’s shoulder, as the leopard was not looking around or listening, he immediately but quietly moved and looked at the bait. He slowly moved his hand towards me and with open palm and fingers which indicated to me to wait. While the cat was rolling around I slowly, very slowly moved the rifle into position.

After a few minutes that seemed a lot longer the leopard sat straight up, had a final look around and the moved to the bait, clawing at it and starting to bite at it. There were still a lot of flies around as it was not yet completely dark, causing the leopard to shake his head a few times. Tendai’s open palmed hand changed to the thumbs up and I dropped my cheek to the stock and looking through the scope got the leopard in the sight picture. He was standing perfectly, broadside and had all his attention on the bait. I was surprisingly calm, I aimed on the shoulder at the opposite front leg, trying to visualize the heart and lungs and the spine where it dipped low on the shoulder before rising to the neck. From the elevated position the shot was downward. As soon as I was comfortable with the lineup I slowly started squeezing the trigger. Having only shot the rifle once before, the crack of the shot caught me by surprise and I temporarily lost the leopard in the scope. I remember a muzzle flash as well, even though it was not that dark yet. As I got the sight picture back in the scope, I picked up the spots of the leopard and the next moment I received an almighty slap on the back from Tendai!! The leopard had dropped like the proverbial sack of potatoes!!!

Tendai shouted “zvakanaka bara” and slapped me on the back again, I would later learn that this meant good shot in Shona…

I was ecstatic and the quit tenseness was now broken and we were both elated with the result. We got out of the tree stand and moved over to the bait. I was amazed at the size and muscular appearance of this male leopard. He was pretty scarred up and appeared to have a left eye which looked a lot like Mr. A’s…glazed over with a blue tinge…The fur on the leopard felt very thick, and the base of the tail was also thick. I examined the paws and pushing on the top revealed the claws which were as sharp as needles…

I could not stop looking at and running my hands over this magnificent creature. Tendai interrupted my stroking and said we had to go and get the “Green machine” as “Chena mukuru” would not come.

I walk back to the homestead in the dark was filled with exited jabbering and going over the events again and again.

Finally we reach the work shop; I wanted to run over to Mr. A with the great news. Tendai said he would wait for me but that I should not take too long as the boss would not go out after dark. This proved to be correct and although Mr. A was pleased with the result, he sent me to go with Tendai and recover the leopard.

On the way back to the bait I asked Tendai why Mr. A would not go with us, he then mentioned that it had to do with the war, and that Mr. A never ventured outside after dark…Mr.A’s behavior at the shooting range and at butchery when I first saw him started making sense…

The leopard weighed 176 lbs on the Avery grain scale in the workshop the next morning, an exceptional specimen….

 

[Wheels]

Enjoying your stories.

Excellent writing style.

 

[edward]

one of the best reports ive read.

 

[Shootist43]

Thanks for the story IvW, I enjoyed it a lot. But...…….. now that you've found your keyboard perhaps you can find the time to write up some more of your exploits. Hint, hint.

 

[Major Khan]

I absolutely enjoyed this story , IvW. I look forward to reading more of your writing . A 176 pound African leopard is a big 1 . In India , " Grey Ghost " is interestingly enough , a nickname given to lone forest gaurs , because of the way that they silently move through the forest. Also , l found the idea of grinding off the tips of military surplus metal covered spitzer cartridges , to make soft point bullets extremely innovative . The last time l saw someone do this was a client in 1965. But he did it to .30-06 military surplus armour piercing 168 grain spitzer black tip cartridges . He needed to shoot a forest panther , but did not possess the requisite soft point bullets for the job.

 

[Wyatt Smith]

Good story IvW, I enjoyed it.