Again the trackers amazed me. In all of those buffalo tracks going in every possible direction they were able to pick out that particular buff. Once on track the stalk began. We tracked for miles. Hours of tracking just lead to more hours of tracking. I began to think we would never catch up to this buff. By this point we had tracked through lunch with no break. When on fresh buff track there’s no rest for the wicked. I didn’t look at my watch but it had to be around one o’clock at this point. The trackers locked up soon after this. The familiar soft whispers were exchanged and the ever so careful pointing was done. Not 40 yards in front of us were two buff standing in some thick hook thorn bushes. It’s amazing to me how something so enormous can hide so well right in front of your eyes. As I began studying the situation I began to see buffalo parts through the bushes. The lead buff was damn near twice the size of the other one. This had to be him! Andri got on hands and knees and crawled forward with the stealth of a cat. He sat on his butt with his legs in front of him glassing the buffalo. A few moments later he gave me a nod indicating this was the buff we were after. He motioned for me to come forward and instructed me to sit between his legs. He handed me the bino’s. There was a very convenient hole in the bush I could see through. The bull was facing us slightly quartered away. I looked him over and he was every bit and more of what I had hoped for. No he wouldn’t score super well and he was missing a few inches off of his right hook but he was exactly what I wanted. I whispered back to Andri that that was the one. He replied something to the effect, “Are you sure????”. I nodded, he’s the buff I came to Africa for. I’m pretty sure Andri thought I was nuts but there was something about this bull that made me want him. I was obsessed with this buff and my mind was made up. We had gone over shot placement in the perfect shot book on a facing buff. I had a pretty good idea where the bullet needed to go but Andri talked me through it. I was in a kneeling position and rock solid. Due to the slight quarter I needed to place the bullet just inside his right shoulder in roughly the middle of the part of his chest that was showing through the opening. Squeezed the trigger and the Ruger barked to life. I was in a good enough position that the recoil from the rifle didn’t even knock me off balance in the kneeling position. The bullet hit with a thunderous WHACK. The buff just about folded in half, he spun a circle and his leg flapped away from his body as he turned. In my excitement I failed to immediately reload and Andri said in my ear, “Reload!!!!”. This snapped me in action, I chambered another round and was on my feet in an instant. The buff was running away to the left and I had an opening in the brush. As I was getting ready to shoot again Andri and Cabous told me not to shoot. The other buff was running beside him and in the brush and excitement it was difficult to tell which one was which in the about half a second of opening we had before disappearing into the thick stuff. I knew the shot was good, it felt good and I was dead steady. Everyone agreed the shot looked perfect so we decided to give him some time to die. There should be a dead buff laying a few yards up in the bush. I waited to hear the famous death bellow but none was heard. I was told while that does absolutely happen but it doesn’t always happen. We shook hands and the bakkie finally pulled up with Mrs. Gizmo and the kids. I was excited beyond words. All in all we waited at least 45 minutes and took up the track. Not 30 yards in the bush we found blood. The track also showed that he was dragging a front leg. All early signs are great. We tracked and found sporadic blood. He would drag a leg for about one hundred yards then seem to walk it off for a while just to start dragging it again. At some point we found a chunk of meat laying on the ground. After about a mile we found him standing under a tree behind a bush. Given he was still paired up with the other buff we wanted to make absolute certain it was him. Andri was able to confirm this and as I moved forward to get a follow up shot he spotted me, in the blink of an eye he whirled and ran. I never had the time to get off a shot. He took off like nothing was wrong. We stood there scratching our heads wondering what in the hell was going on. We picked up the track again found a few more drops of blood and within a hundred yards he started dragging the leg again. It was obvious he was wanting to bed down buy the zig zag pattern in his tracks. A few times he even walked in a circle in some bushes trying to lay down. We stopped and had a quick meeting. Now while this was my first buff hunt I have been hunting my whole life. I have also been guiding North American hunts for several years now. It seemed to me that the thing to do would be to back out and give him more time. It was obvious he wanted to lay down and I believed if we would quit pushing him he would lay down and not be able to get back up. Andri and Cabous must have been thinking the exact same thing. They had a brief conversation and told me that we needed to back out and give him some time. My feelings were confirmed when I was told by both of them the same thing I was thinking and I had not uttered a single word. This was absolutely the right decision and I agreed with it and would make the same decision again.
We decided that we would go back to the lodge and have a late lunch and come back after giving him some time. On the way back to the lodge I began doubting myself. Was I over confident, did I pull the shot????? By the time we arrived I had convinced myself I had totally blew it and now we had a wounded buff in thick cover. Probably the worst, arguably, situation in all of Africa. This posed a very dangerous situation for everyone and I was boiling mad at myself. I ended up going to my room and trying to get my Sh$!#@#t together as I was extremely pissed off at myself. After about thirty minutes Andri came to get me for lunch but I wasn’t hungry. More bad news too, 5 of the seven bullets had been recovered from my lion. I was shooting Hornady DGX and DGS. Three of the five bullets were completely fragmented and had an estimated whopping 30% weight retention at best. The other two were better than the first three but far from adequate. Another issue, the previous day during the lion hunt I had inadvertently shot two solids. My fifth and sixth shot. We had been hunting buff the previous day and I had threw a couple of solids on my ammo holder. I had completely forgotten about it and during the excitement grabbed two and shot the lion. I realized this directly after it was over but the lion was down so no harm no fowl. Everyone assumed the two pass through shots were the solids. Wrong! One of the recovered bullets was a solid which had failed and broken apart. Well that explained why the lion took so many shots. The bullets would act much like varmint bullets upon impact and fragment. He handed me the bullets ( I have them and will post pics of them. I just need to take a pic) and I was sick to my stomach. Now the questions really started buzzing in my mind. He could tell I was in no mood for socializing and gave me a bit to collect my thoughts. Andri had took a pic of the bullets and contacted Hornady. He sent them the pics and politely asked WTF??????????? He was asked to get the batch number from the bullets which I plan on doing and send it to them. He also watched the film back which confirmed the shot was dead on. After they had all eaten he came and got me again. I was in better spirits by now and focused on getting this buff and finishing it. I requested that if anyone had a shot at him to please take it. No sense in him suffering further if he’s still alive. We picked up the track again and started to follow. Same story, the track went on for miles. Blood drop here and there, drag his leg for a while just to walk it off. He would try and bed down then change his mind and keep moving. We finally caught up to him once and he immediately busted us and took off. At this point I was ready to end it. As stupid as it sounds I just wanted him to turn and stand his ground. Charge or not I wanted the opportunity to finish what we started. No such luck, despite calling the buffs mother every unmentionable I could think of he kept going. He went to the only water hole within 5 ½ miles, drank, and left. This was a problem. There were millions of tracks in the sand and his were lost. About 30 minutes later the trackers picked him up. I thought there was no way they could have found his track. To my amazement within about 50 yards they found a drop of blood. My hat is off to the trackers they were truly amazing. We tracked for miles and miles, nothing. With about an hour of light left we found where he had gone in to try and rejoin the herd. At first we thought this may be a blessing. Once again we were kicked in the nuts. The herd had turned on him and whipped the ever loving piss out of him in the process wiping out every bit of track in the whole area and dozens of buff going in every direction. It got dark before we could figure it out but we found another piece of meat. Back to the lodge we went. My spirits were as low as low. Over some beer we came up with a plan. We would hire a helicopter, there was a man not too far away that had a gyrocopter and the rates were very reasonable but we would confirm in the morning. Fred, Pierre, and I sat around the camp fire and drank away our sorrows. After way too much to drink it was off to bed. To be continued…..
! Great story! Thank you for taking the time to draw us into the hunt with you. I can almost feel the thorns ... I can almost hear the sounds .. I can almost feel 7 thumps from your Ruger ... and I can definitely feel your passion and respect for your lion! Well done. We want more.
