I finally slept fairly well through the night. Ate a quick little bite and headed out with some of Warrens workers to fetch the kudu. Warren was excited to show off his “kudu cart.” The workers were dropped at the nearest point and Patrick led the way. Meanwhile, Warren and I swept a hillside to look for a dead kudu that Patrick reported finding the night before. I occasionally watched from this hillside as the workers quickly retrieved my kudu and brought her to the pickup truck. It was a fairly swift process.
After the kudu was recovered, we made our first check of the trail camera we had placed earlier. We found it had been triggered about a dozen times, catching mostly small bulls coming and going.
We then made a quick look for the duiker I had seen previously. Saw a few steenbok but no mega-duiker. We then ate brunch which I was most happy to see was left-over Potje from the night before. Oh it was just as good the second time. With a belly full of wildebeest and rice, I went to bed for a short nap.
For the afternoon hunt, we first checked another trail camera sitting over a water trough. This camera had numerous photos of wildebeest and warthogs. While checking this camera, we finally saw the black wildebeest on a distant hillside above us. After examining the photos, we climbed back into the Land Cruiser and took a little two-track that wound us closer to the black wildebeest. I enjoyed this as they really just look cool and I had wanted to see them. Upon closer inspection, all appeared to be bulls, including some very good ones. Alas, they were not on my list and will have to wait for another year.
We then drove over to the same location we had been two nights before, next to the cistern, to look for kudu. We adjusted our location and sat rather close to where we had ultimately been when I played “let’s make a deal” with Warren. Of course I was excited as perhaps the one horned bull or one of the bigger bulls would again make their appearance. As we parked the Land Cruiser, we could already see kudu in the brush above. We walked in quietly and, luckily, a little terrain gave us just enough cover to get into position without being detected. After some time, kudu started emerging from the brush. About 6 to 8 cows and calves, along with several small bulls, fed some 250 yards or so away. They eventually fed along the hillside and somewhat parallel to us and, eventually over a low fence and out of our lives.
I sat with my back against an old plumb tree whose truck was angled such to make it a fairly comfortable sit. More kudu continued to slowly trickle out of the brush, some high, some low. Many, if not most now were bulls. They fed as they staged for their nightly migration to the flats below. Eventually three large mature bulls were spotted. I tried not to watch as I knew I could not shoot one. Warren, however, watched and was clearly getting excited and told me he was having “heart palpations.” He kept saying look at those bulls and continued to get excited. I had to tell him to stop as he was getting me excited and I was the one who had to make the shot. Meanwhile, two small bulls had a short shoving match while a cow kudu urinated and our biggest bull walked over and went into full lip curl. I again tried my hand at “Let’s make a deal” and Warren never twitched, only smiled.
Finally Warren said there is the bull I want you to shoot. He said, “You see the biggest bull?” Yes. Well it’s the bull just to the right of him. Are you frigging kidding me, the smallest bull on the hillside! Argh. This was a cull hunt and I prepared for a shot. I could see a bare spot in the ground in front of me and moved to it to go prone. I set up my tripod and readied. The bull walked in to my pre-determined shooting zone and kept walking. He stopped just as he was being obscured by some foreground brush. Crap. I then looked forward of his position and could see another opening coming up. I moved the sticks and then my body. This act placed my scrotum and upper thigh on a catsclaw or some other thorny plant and was I ever in pain. No time to worry about this, get ready for the shot, I thought to myself. The big bull came into view and stopped while I struggled to get the tripod steady. The big bull continued on and I knew my bull would be next. I finally got the tripod steady and came up with the rifle. My bull walked into view and I asked Warren to stop him. Warren threw out a whistle, the bull stopped and my crosshairs settled high on his shoulder. I touched off the .30-06 and the bull collapsed in his tracks. Warren said something about being a hot shot.
After a bit, we walked up to the bull. Photos were quickly taken in the fading light and Patrick removed its stomach. Later we measured the shot distance with a range-finder at 281 yards.
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