So after bait checking and looking at cameras, we decide on night 4 to head back to the leopard blind to hunt for honey badger. In spite of the trail cam pics of a very big tom leopard and his female companion, we also have a male and female honey badger coming to bait. Our hope is the badger comes in before the leopards show up and park their lazy asses on top of the wildebeest rear quarter and eat all my money meat.
So we arrive at the blind, the box blind, at 5:00. It is an hour and 20 minutes before dark. Nothing has happened by 7:45, so I finally get out of the chair, and lay down on my mattress. I am just hitting deep REM sleep when at 8:20, the motion detector goes off. I wait for confirmation from Marco and sure enough, the smaller of the two honey badgers is on bait. I slowly and painfully(note that after 3 nights, my old knees have now started to creak from ware and tear, my back is aching, and I feel like I have been dragged behind the truck like guts over a rough road - it’s called old age) rise from the floor to assume my seat. I focus the scope on the badger and ask if he is good enough. Before Marco can answer, enter stage right Mr. Badger to join the Mrs. Now I focus all my attention on the much larger badger. He immediately moves to the bait, and gives a perfect broadside shot. I move the scope onto him, and he changes position facing away. I wait a moment, and then back he moves to a broadside position facing to my left. I move the crosshairs right on his body midline, close to the shoulder, and squeeze the shot. Well, this is where hind sight says I did all the wrong things. First, he is eating well so I should have taken more time. Second, in the moving back and forth of the gun, I now have the sight crosshairs on the badger, but the gun but is not firm against my shoulder. At the shot, the gun bucks and I lose complete sight of the bait and badgers. Marco immediately says”you were too low”. I begin to contradict him but realize that is just wishful thinking. I have no clue where the shot went.
So Marco assures me we will sort things out, and heads out of the blind to look for blood, badger, or any evidence of a hit. I see him at the bait site for 5-10 minutes. I see him wandering the thick brush with the torch moving back and forth.
At this point, I am just plain pissed at myself. I should have waited. I should have been more focused. I pound my head with my fist and compliment myself, “stupid, stupid, stupid”. I then makes all kinds of deals with God. “Lord, you know this is not about me(it really is). Help us to find this badger for Marco. He has worked so hard.” I can hear God chuckling right now thinking not again Mort.
Marco returns to the blind after 20 min or so. The report is two drops of blood about 15 ft down one trail into the brush from where Mr Badger came. So he wants to show me the track and the blood. Little do I know the excitement in store for POM(Poor old Mort).
We exit the blind, torches in hand, and walk to the two track in front of the blind where the trail to the bait heads slightly up hill. We are chatting and I am trying to find any nugget of positive vibes in Marco’s words. Now this is where it gets interesting. As we turn up the trail to the bait, about another 40 ft, Marco has left his small head lamp on. As Marco tells it, he looks up at the bait, and sees a light on at the bait site. Mentally, it does not compute because he did not leave a light at the bait. So he takes the big torch and shines it on the light at the bait. You guessed. There sitting like a great dane is Mr Spots in all his glory. Just looking at us. I slam on the breaks just in time to say with absolute conviction” do you see that?” The stupid things you say when you are about to wet yourself. So old spots just slinks off behind a big rock, and suddenly I am talking to Marco as if we were at a concert. Something just shy of yelling.
We continue to flood the area with light, and cautiously move up to the bait. I am bolstered in my bravado by the scoped
. 22 I carry to dispatch any dangerous game we might encounter. I am on high pucker factor alert. Marco quickly shows me the spots of blood, and then we back out for a plan.
Back in the blind, we decide we urgently need Stitch the terrier to follow up the trail. In a moment of luck, due to the early evening hour, Marco’s wife Fran agrees to meet him half way with Stitch, saving us a much needed 30-45 minutes of time. I suggest I stay at the blind to monitor the activities of old Tom, and Marco agrees. Off he goes.
I do not see old Tom over the next 30 minutes or so. All is supremely quiet. But at about the 20 min mark, the leopard coughs, then growls, so close to the front left corner of the blind, I literally say “Holy Shit!” outloud to nobody in particular. The next 10-15 minutes until Marco’s return seems to take 5-1/2 hours.
