Day 8:
We spent the morning visiting a school not far from the lodge in Molteno. The school was associated with a church on the northwest side of town. We met with several ladies who ran the school and taught the children. The children were divided into three buildings, four classrooms. One building was recently built by one of the teachers (Annie) husband for the kindergarten class. She told us the company who shipped the windmills had donated some wood from the large crates used during shipping and her husband had worked with a few other men on weekends to build a classroom for the youngest students. First grade was located in a separate building in its own classroom while 2nd-6th was in another classroom in the same building. The fourth classroom was connected to the church and was for students being taught solely in Afrikaans. Each students desk in the 1st-6th grade classrooms were partitioned off for privacy and Annie informed us the system they used for teaching the children was one that allowed them to move at their own pace. This allowed them to provide the level of assistance each child needed so they could accomplish the objectives set for them allowing those who needed less assistance to move forward.
Several of the teachers also told us they had gone to school in the church when they were young, the priest had started the school so the children could remain in town and not have to go far away for school. We both enjoyed our time touring the school and church very much, all the teachers and staff were very kind to allow us to interrupt their day to show us around and share their history.
Second-sixth grade classes.
Kindergarten class.
Kindergarten building made from shipping crates.
View from the school buildings across the courtyard toward the church.
Students learning in Afrikaans.
That evening we headed back for warthog and instead got on a group of springbok, as usual they detected our presence before we'd liked and began to leave the country. For some reason three males broke from the group and stopped about 300 yards and looked back giving Jason just enough time to tell me which one to target. The first shot was low in his chest cavity, but lethal. We hurried closer as he trotted a few yards and fired a second shot as we weren't sure at the time where the first shot had hit.
As the afternoon was still early we headed back out to see if we could find the larger fallow buck again. We came on a large group of chocolate does with a young stag but no sign of big boy. We saw a few other smaller groups but all were does and fawns or young stags. Jason stopped and grabbed his binos as he stared off high in the distance and spotted a group of three mountain reedbuck. He said he thought one of them was a nice male but we'd have to try to get closer to tell and asked if I was interested since I hadn't planned on hunting a mountain reedbuck. I of course agreed so we struck out. As we approached the base of the steep cliff they were on they climbed higher. Once we'd gotten to about 200 yards we stopped and found them again up the mountain. The two females were out of sight in the brush. The male was standing half covered half uncovered by brush staring straight at us. Unfortunately there was a large bush directly behind his head and it was camouflaging his horns and neither of us could tell how long he was or what his hooks looked like at the top. It felt like we stared at each other for 20 minutes but I'm sure in reality it was only 3 or 4. Jason wanted him to move his head just slightly so he could get some idea of his size. After what felt like an eternity Jason finally said, he's not going to move, I'm not sure about his horn length but his body appears to be that of a mature male, if you're comfortable and have a clear shot take him. The first shot hit him and he climbed about fifteen yards further up the mountain and stopped, the second shot dropped him. Given the steepness of the cliff Jason recommend that we let Henry retrieve him to a lower somewhat flatter elevation.
When Henry reached him he started yelling in Afrikaans and Jason said, "If Henry's yelling he's big". When he got down to us Jason told me he was one of, if not the biggest mountain reedbuck he'd seen. I of course, having no reference to compare was oblivious but extremely excited none the less.
Jason later told me his longest horn measured 7 7/8" long. I'm still not sure the significance of that but I think he's beautiful.
No luck for my buddy Mark today.