Saturday 12/06/2021
Litchi and I went in the morning on the hillside again, but still no luck. We did see some bushbuck but again each time too far away to make a clean shot. Litchi and I are starting to get annoyed at our bad luck with the bushbuck, so we decided to switch things up. For the afternoon we would descend all the way down to the bottom of the valley, on top of a rock formation, instead of remaining halfway on the hillside. We would lose our overview and see much less, but at the very least what we would see would be in range for me. On our way down, about half way down the hill side, we saw a group of baboons enjoying the evening sun on the opposite cliff. Litchi and I were debating for a few minutes what to do. I did want a baboon, but not at the risk of scaring everything else away for the rest of the afternoon. We didn’t want to endanger spooking a bushbuck! But Litchi argued that we should have enough time left for things to calm down, and an opportunity on a baboon should not be left unused. And in any case, if we continued with our decent to the rocks at the bottom, we would be spotted by the baboons after a while and they would make a ruckus anyway. After a few minutes of back and forth on this, all the while observing the baboons picking the fleas out of their neighbours, we decided to go for it. Setting up the 4Stable Sticks again, I took aim at a big one, about 200 meters from us said the range finder, and managed to fully miss my shot. Very strange situation, (that was going to be repeated once more on this trip) where I was stable and comfortable, had plenty of time, but still missed. Due to the distance I had again aimed at the neck, which should have put the bullet between the shoulder blades. The baboon sitting on his haunches, facing away from us. Very strange, I must have pulled the shot slightly right or high, missing him by a hair. On the white rocks we could not spot any blood, and the baboon together with the rest of the gang sprinted up screaming hell and fury.
We continued on with the decent, a bit bummed that my shot had not worked out and spent a few hours on the rocks trying to see something, but nothing that warranted taking the safety off. We did see a female bushbuck come out to our far right, so Litchi was right that it had sufficiently calmed down after the shot to have the animals coming back.
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Coming back to the lodge late in the evening, under supervision of a giraffe.
Sunday 13/06/2021
Having seen that we had had no luck on the hillside or on the rocks, Peter and my father told us they were going to show the young ones how to hunt bushbuck. We would be taking their place in a blind in the middle of the valley, where they had not seen much bushbuck the previous few days. So in the morning, bright and early, we sat there for an hour or two, not seeing much apart from nyala females. As sitting still for hours on end was not to our taste so early in the day, we decided to go further down the valley and turn left, Peter and my father being further to our right, where the valley turns almost into a ravine. Once arriving at the bottom of the valley, doing a slow walk from bush to bush, we tried to look back on the hillside we just came from. After about 500 meters of slowly going through the bottom of the valley, Litchi suddenly shouted of excitement. A massive and very wide waterbuck was looking down on us from the hillside we came from. We ranged him at 250 meters, pretty much facing us, about 80 meters higher than we were and Litchi did not want me to take the shot. (likely remembering the baboon from the day before…) The waterbuck was listening for the cries of alarm of a bird next to us in the brush, without actually seeing us. As Litchi had said it was too dangerous to try a frontal shot from 250m on such a strong animal as a waterbuck, we circled around and started a hasty walk back up the hillside we came from. Sweat was pouring in my eyes by the end.
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A view of the valley that we descended and climbed a few times that day.
When we had started the circle around and climbing the hill again, the waterbuck had left its place with a small trot, so we did not try to get back to the place where it originally stood, but rather went higher up on the hill, to perhaps find it back looking back down. At a certain point the waterbuck had crossed a group of impalas that we had not seen, and upon us arriving on the scene, the impala started snorting and running all over with a lot of ruckus. Our chances were dwindling to find it back. But suddenly Litchi started sniffing the air, there was a heavy musk smell floating around, meaning the waterbuck was not far. Then we heard it crashing through the brush, we tried to sprint after it, to then stop and listen if we heard it again. At a certain point we even threw rocks some distance from us, to illicit a reaction from the waterbuck. He was that close to us, but due to the brush we just could not see him. Both the waterbuck and ourselves had to be at a clearing in the brush to be able to see each other. He clearly had the advantage on us. So it is no surprise that even after 2 hours of tracking, sniffing, listening and trying to catch up, we had to admit defeat. We had lost him.
Off we went to the lodge for lunch, but before that Litchi wanted to go for another quick tour with the truck to see if there were any big nyala around. I could feel the tension in him, after so many days of trying our luck, we never really had a real opportunity apart from today and we had lost him in the brush, despite being well on its spoor. He too was getting frustrated a bit.
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Less than 24hr old leopard track we encountered during the walk back, not 200meters from the lodge
After a bit of rest, Litchi proposed to go to another point mid-way of the valley, overlooking a part of the valley where he believed the waterbuck had fled to. So, after a steep descent into the valley we just about arrived at the overwatch position or we saw the same waterbuck, with a few females and a calf this time, sprinting into an island of brush in the middle of the valley. Most likely because they had heard Peter and my father making their own descent on another hillside to go sit at the rocks.
Once the group of waterbuck had fled into the island of brush in the middle of the valley, we knew we were going to see it again. There was only one way they could get out of that brush without us noticing us, and that would be to come exactly from the location they had just sprinted from. As it would be very unnatural for them to go back to where they had just fled from, we were quite confident. I set up the 4Stable Sticks again and the wait began. Luckily, we had a few nyala females on the far side of the brush we kept stopping to eat to look up at all these smelly visitors, so we had an idea of where they were. Litchi thought they were going to come out on the far side, but instead of that I suddenly spotted them coming out through the middle of the brush closest to us. This was about 175m from us, about 60 meters lower than where we were. I started to take aim. But had to put the safety back on, as it was standing just being a little bit of brush that could deflect the bullet. The vital triangle that is. Then it took a few steps and came out from behind the small bush, but was now quartering towards us, so remembering the words of Litchi of this morning I again kept my finger off the trigger. A few more seconds passed and finally it came nice and broadside. A gentle squeeze later and I knew it was a good shot. The impact, the emotion just after the shot and Litchi putting his thumbs up. It did run however, back into the brush it came from, so was immediately out of our view. We let things calm a bit before descending the slopes, while we observed the waterbuck females standing around, not knowing where the danger had come from and seeing the calf running away to the other side of the valley.
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The “island” of brush in the middle of the valley.
We started the descent, to arrive a half an hour later at the bottom, looking to find blood on the location I had shot the waterbuck. I was still using the same .300 WinMag lead soft tips, which only make a small hole going in and then mostly break up inside the animal, with often no exit wound. The tension was rising, with us trying to breach the brush a bit to try to look inside the twisted mess of vines, thorns, branches and leaves and I started fearing the worst. Then suddenly Litchi looked back at me and moved his index finger across his throat. I could not see it lying, but it was down! We actually had to circle around the brush to approach from a different side and there it was, stone dead, almost posing for a trophy picture. I was ecstatic and so was Litchi. We had hunted this animal since this morning and finally our efforts had paid off!
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This is exactly how we found the waterbuck waiting for us.
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The author with a very wide waterbuck, absolutely ecstatic. Due to his extra wide horns a good thing to take him, as he might have injured other waterbuck bulls.
After the obligatory pictures, we decided to leave it there. Well technically we had no choice. We had to climb back up to go get the truck which was still at the lodge. As there was still plenty of daylight left, we went on another slow walk down the bottom of the valley. Not 200 meters further, behind a corner of brush we came upon a mature nyala bull. While it was looking at us, unmoving, Litchi and I were discussing if it was good to shoot or not. Litchi thought there were better bulls, with nicer horns to be found on the property. As I do not really care about a “perfect” set of horns, only that it is fully mature, it was okay for me. It was the first mature bull I had seen in 6 days, seeing dozens of younger bulls which already had massive horns in my mind. We were debating this for a full 2 minutes, with the bull looking at us from 60 meters away, not understanding what was in the balance. Finally, Litchi caved and I loaded the rifle and set up, but by then the Nyala bull probably felt how this might end and had started running away. I let it go.
We continued our walk, going back up on the hillside and then Litchi saw a bushbuck. A quick sprint later, so we could await it coming out in the next clearing in the brush, I was setup. By then it was already past 17:00 and light was fading fast. We did see it come out and stop for all of 2 seconds before disappearing in the brush again. With the sticks in loose sand, light failing and a distance of 220 meters I was just not comfortable for a shot like this. We went back home to the lodge to await the return of Peter and my father.
Driving down to where I had shot the waterbuck took us about an hour, so by then it was fully night. Just like with the kudu, we had to open the animal where he lay, to remove stomach and intestines, to make him a bit lighter. With 5 total we managed to lift it into the back of the truck.
Upon returning, we celebrated with champagne and tasted Linda’s famous creamy chicken and pasta. Absolutely delicious!
Monday 14/06/2021
On Monday morning, after all the successes I had had, we all went to a neighbouring property, which had a Sable. My father shot a 42inch bull. In the afternoon we came back to Peter’s property. Litchi and I had a nice and calm walk along the ridge line, observing the animals, while Peter and my father went out to find him a black impala ram. They found one, but in the last few minutes of daylight a shot was made and the animal not found. They did find it early the next morning, only 10 meters from where it had been shot.
Tuesday 15/06/2021
Peter had already on Monday organised with the other property owner to come back on Tuesday, to see if we could find some blue wildebeest on his property. We left around 7:00 in the morning, with the worst weather so far. Grey, windy, almost just not raining a bit, with everything being wet. Although this property was located on a plateau and thus was very flat with few brush, I had made it clear to Peter and Litchi that I wanted to stalk the animal. Not shoot from the truck. At first, we tried to find one of the groups of blue on the property, but could only see a group of black wildebeest at the top of a very flat hill.
We looked around for an hour or so, driving to various corners of the property and in the end we did find them, but they were on a hill inaccessible by truck (to pick the animal up afterwards). After a coffee and a call to the owner, we asked permission to go after a black wildebeest instead. The ones we had seen standing in the wide open. They could easily see over 700 meters in any direction, with not a brush higher than your knees for us to hide behind. Once we received the ok, off we went.
Staying behind a ridgeline, in a small gully, we managed to get within 400 meters or so of the black wildebeest group relatively unseen. Although they were attentive that something was going on. No other choice but to continue on hands and knees for the remaining 200 meters. With Litchi in front and me just behind, crawling through the knee-length brush on all fours… It actually worked better than we thought. I’m sure they could see us moving, but probably did not understand what it was moving through the undergrowth. Eventually we got to about 190 meters, just behind a single leafless tree, with Litchi trying to pick out the most mature of the bulls. Then very gently getting the rifle from my back, standing up and getting into position behind the sticks. I placed the rifle, took aim and fired. We could not wait for them to react to our sudden standing up. I felt again quite good about the shot and was nice and stable, but no impact sound. Rather we heard a high whistling sound and saw a streak of dust behind the animal.
Litchi was convinced I had missed. I still do not know what had happened on that shot. After they ran off, they only went about 400 meters further and started looking back. Peter came back with the truck to pick us up and the next hour were spent glassing them from all sides, trying to see if Litchi was right and I missed, or if I had wounded one. Finally, when all were convinced that I had completely missed, we decided to go for a second stalk on the same group. Each time we had approached them, they only ran a few hundred meters away at a time. And as they encountered more and more brush towards the bottom of the hill, they started to circle more instead of going straight away from the hill top. It seemed that they did not want to leave their overlook position on the hill top to far behind them and that they would circle back to it.
Litchi and I tried to set up an ambush in a cluster of higher brush, on what would be their expected route back. However, this was also buffalo country! Over the course of the morning we had seen over fifty of them in various smaller groups, usually hiding within these patches of brush we now tried to set our ambush in. At some point Peter, who was still with the truck, had fully lost track of us for about 30 minutes, while we stalked from brush to brush, in order to find a new spot each time the black wildebeest changed direction on their way back to the hill top. Having seen too much buffalo in that brush, and too little of Litchi and I, he called it and drove up to meet us. The two of us, with just one .300 WinMag rifle between us, stalking in between unseen groups of buffalo is something he could allow no longer. No more adventuring by us in the brush, we had to stay closer to the truck. And as it then also become clear that we would not be able to stalk sufficiently close to the black wildebeest, or continuously had to change the location of our ambush, we thought to leave them behind and take a second look at the blue. Perhaps they had moved to a more reachable location.
Not 5 minutes after we had turned the truck to go look for the blue wildebeest, we see the black wildebeest group galloping like only wildebeest can, straight past us back to the top of the hill. There they stood about 300 meters from the truck almost taunting us. They did not run anymore, although the path was bringing the truck nearer to them. As it seemed they really wanted to play another round of catch-me-if-you-can with us, we happily obliged. We shut of the engine. Still no movement. I jumped off with Litchi, grabbing rifle and sticks on the way out and without really being convinced this would work, just started walking straight for them, with the truck right behind me. Perhaps they could not see me well as the truck was behind me, breaking my silhouette. Peter, who had followed the two of us, softly said “second from the left”. 230 meters said the range finder. Down came the rifle on the sticks and I touched of the rifle for a second time that day. We all heard the satisfying loud crack of a good chest hit, so we were not worried when the black wildebeest ran. He ran for another 100 meters or so, falling over every few dozens of meters and getting back up each time. Never long enough, and by then also too far way, for me to send a second lead pill. Once we reached it we could see clearly that it was a perfect double lung shot, the black wildebeest just had not gotten the news yet.
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The author with a black wildebeest. Notice the very open terrain that complicated the stalks.
Upon coming back to Peter’s property, we did not have enough hours of daylight left, to make our way back down the valley and go sit in a blind. We decided to just have a tour of the property, all four of us in the truck, and see if we could spot something and put a stalk on. The weather had gotten a lot better in the afternoon and we saw many groups of blesbok and impala sunning in the high grass fields on the more elevated part of the property. We also saw a nyala bull sleeping in the grass, who had not noticed us. We all though it was a small, young bull, so did not pay much more attention and drove on. But coming up on another side we saw him again and suddenly Peter and Litchi got very excited. It was a massive bull, with horns like a chalice. Then we did everything wrong. Stopping the vehicle, everyone trying to get a look with the binoculars, me kicking the shooting sticks around in the back of the truck and overall making too much noise and wasting time. By the time Litchi and I had jumped off the truck to start the stalk, the bull had come to an understanding and made a run for it.
We started a chase anyway, just the two of us, while Peter and my father would continue to elsewhere. But the bull was nowhere to be found, we looked high and low, even descended a bit into the valley, but to no avail. As it came up to 17:00, we decided to leave the bull in peace and return back to the lodge. During this walk back, we suddenly saw a group of vervet monkey’s popping up in the trees by the side of the path. Looking at us with suspicion. We contemplated it a little bit, but in the end I decided to leave them to their sleep too.
Not 10 meters further and we see the big nyala bull at 3 meters from us, standing on the side of the path, despite all the noise we had just made. Upon encountering us, he quickly jumped deeper into the brush where he was immediately lost from our view.
We quick walked around, to see if it perhaps would come out the other side and to try to pick him up. By then it was already 17:15 and light start fading fast. Suddenly movement, but this was a smaller nyala bull. Apparently, there were 2 of them in that small patch of brush. We waited the big one out, but at 17:30 I said enough and unloaded the rifle. There was not enough light left for a good shot. We would come back the next morning to try to find him back.
Arriving at the lodge, Linda awaited us with an excellent fillet of springbok for us to feast upon.
Wednesday 16/06/2021
The next morning, starting at 8:00 Litchi and I, accompanied by Zwai, were going to try and get back on the nyala bull, while my father, Peter and Linda were going to Grahamstown for a visit.
We decided to drive around the hill, to come up on top, and then to continue on foot. That way we would also have a better view in front of us of any animals moving. Lo and behold, there was the monster nyala, together with a group of blesbok, feeding on the long grass. We put a stalk on, but the blesbok made things very complicated. They were about 30 or 40 of them and were much more alert and aware of us, than the old nyala bull, who did not seem to have a care in the world at first, just continuing to feed. But with the 60 plus eyes keeping track of our every move and snorting every time we came a bit too close, the stalking was “interesting” to say the least. Left we tried, right we tried, straight through the middle, sometimes getting into a position that I could put the rifle on the sticks, and flick the safety off, but then the nyala bull would just start trotting away, or was covered by too much strands of this long grass. I could not take an ethical shot. At least four times I had the bull in my sights, every time there was an issue of brush, the nyala bull quartering too much away, the blesbok in front or behind the nyala. The bull was also getting weary of our games and started to get agitated, noticing that something was off that morning.
The last attempt we made was too much for his nerves and he trotted off into the brush. Quick sprints from one bush to the next, with interspersed frantic seconds of holding our breath in order to hear where he might be moving off to. But it was fruitless, he had joined two smaller nyala bulls and two females, and had slipped further into the bush.
We did not want to stress the animal anymore and risk seeing it go down into the impenetrable brush of the valley. So after having played about 3 hours of this cat and mouse game, we gave up and went for a short break with some lunch, to pick things back up at 12:00.
This was the right decision, because over the lunch break, the big bull was spotted again high in the fields. Off we went, but this time by doing the stalks a bit more deliberate, without haste, we managed to get to within 100 meters of 2 nyala bulls. The monster however was nowhere to be seen. It was one younger bull and one fully mature one, but with a less impressive set of horns. The tips were not yet going open again. We decided to go for it anyway, so the cat-and-mouse game started anew between the hedgerows and patches of brush. Three more times we had to reposition with the rifle on the sticks, to a new location, until finally the younger one came out about 70 meters from in a clearing. The older one a few meters behind hot on his heels. Luckily for me, this time he stopped for a few second scratching and licking himself, just behind an opening in the brush, so I could see him. But I had to wait to take the shot until he had his head back up, as his skull and horns were blocking the vital triangle. After a few tense seconds that felt like hours, off went the shot, right where I wanted it. It jumped and ran, but did not make it more than 15 meters before it went down for good.
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This picture shows that upon death, nyala bulls also have a crest of hair on their back that stands up. Just like with springbok.
Another magnificent trophy, one that Litchi and I had been working on for six days now, having left many younger bulls (with equally impressive trophies in my mind) behind us, because Litchi knew there was better to be found. Well the 49cm/22.2” nyala bull was definitely spectacular in my eyes.
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The author’s nyala bull
After getting the nyala back to the lodge, I tried to assist Litchi, Zwai and Monde skinning it. Upon the return of Peter, Linda and my father, we had a bit of a celebration and I must admit I also had a few too many. For dinner, Linda had prepared a typical African dish out of the stomach of the nyala, together with lots of onions and garlic. Very taste, but very heavy too. I was happy that night that my fiancée was not sleeping in the same room as me… she might have given me the ring back!
Thursday 17/06/2021
On Thursday, with our departure on Saturday fast approaching now, we had to go to Port Elizabeth to get the PCR tests. In the morning Peter, my father and I went to Addo elephant park, to see a bit of the other wildlife of the region. During our drive through the park, we found ourselves from time to time almost surrounded by herds of elephants that were crossing the road. At one time an elephant bull started to get nervous, so we stayed back, with cars piling up behind us. Obviously, those tourists knew better, wanted a closer look and were not too happy that we had stopped far away, so they passed us, only to have to go into reverse gear again when it dawned on them they might not want to piss off a herd of multi ton animals.
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Elephants crossing the road, with calves in their midst.
The PCR test in the afternoon went without a hitch, so we drove back home. The next day would be our last day of hunting.
Friday 18/06/2021
For the last day, neither my father nor I really were in need or want of trophy animals anymore, so Peter proposed to just see if we could find some old impala or kudu females, as meat for the camp. So that morning I donned my hunting clothes a last time and we went all four of us together to find some old female impala, kudu or blesbok.
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Owner and PH Peter Decroos glassing for anything interesting
After having gone some distance, without seeing much, all of a sudden, we saw a group of baboons sprinting on the next hill side and although we had no chance of on them, they did make a group of female kudus, which were closer to us, move out into the open. I took aim from the truck from 240meters and it was down, 10 meters from where it had stood. There had been no sound of an impact though and the female seemed to have walked away normally as if nothing had happened, so I had feared another miss. But this was unfounded. Another perfect heart-lung shot. My father continued on, after a lunch on nyala heart, liver and kidneys, to shoot an old impala female.
That evening we had another fillet of black wildebeest on the grill. Drinks flowed a bit more freely too, as it was our last evening there.
Saturday 19/06/2021
Getting the luggage together, everything packed, then off we went to visit a souvenir market in Port Elizabeth, where I did not dare buy anything out of fear that my fiancée would not like it. She’ll have to come back with me, so she can choose herself what kind of decoration she would like. Peter and Linda were with us and then invited us to a very nice fish restaurant, overlooking the bay and the sea.
Epilogue
And that was that. My first African safari and surely not my last. Over the course of 13 days of hunting I had fired my rifle 14 times:
- A practice shot on the first day
- Blesbok - 1 shot broadside – 80 meters
- Warthog - 1 shot broadside – 100 meters
- Vervet monkey 1 shot
- Vervet monkey miss
- Kudu bull - 1 shot slight quarter away – 80 meters
- Impala ram - 1 shot frontal – 200 meters
- Waterbuck - 1 shot broadside – 175 meters + 60 meters of elevation
- Vervet monkey 1 shot
- Baboon miss
- Black wildebeest miss
- Black wildebeest - 1 shot broadside – 230 meters
- Nyala bull - 1 shot broadside – 70 meters
- Kudu female - 1 shot broadside – 240 meters
Peter and Linda from Multana Safaris outdid themselves and I can highly recommend them. Especially for first time hunters. But I see myself going back in the future. First need to save a bit again and dream of Africa until the longing to go back grows too strong to bear any further.
one capable of taking ele too… will be food for future discussions on this forum!
www.africahunting.com
he’ll be taking a few of them back to South Africa after his next visit to Belgium. So definitely a success!
Business Hunts With EXECUTIVE HUNT AFRICA: Package For North West Province
