What a day it had been! We had taken two phenomenal animals and there was still some good daylight left. In some ways, I wish we had called it a day at that point, but I can never quit. Loodt had told us about an absolute monster of a nyala that no hunters had been able to take at this point that was roaming his dad’s property. He had been in the same location after many younger bulls had displaced him and had even incurred one injury that had nearly killed him. No harm in going to take a look, right? At a bare minimum I had hoped to see some nyala and if we found the big one, hopefully have a place to begin looking the next day.
Lady Luck can sometimes be a real witch, but not today. As soon as we entered the valley we spotted him. We were able to give him a good look-over from the truck and you could clearly see the age he had on him. Much of his abdominal hair had already been rubbed or fallen out. He was absolutely beautiful with a strong lyre shape and heavily worn ivory tips. Lammie decided the best route was to continue driving up the valley and come in from the back side that way the nyala would feel the threat had passed. There was a cross-wind regardless of the direction we chose, so that wasn’t to play a factor.
Once out of sight, we quickly gathered our things and the pursuit was on. When we worked our way back around to where the nyala had been, he had moved further down the hill and into the open which would make our stalk a lot more difficult. I hoped the cattle in the foreground would help hide my advance and possibly cover some of the noise from the dried grass. This reminded me of stalking Kansas whitetails with the amount of livestock and cattle fences, and just like whitetails, the nyala seemed to use areas where the fence was gone to travel through. Now these are small fences i.e. cattle fences, that any wild animal can easily scoot over, but so long as he wasn’t alarmed, we might could predict his movement. Sure enough, he moved exactly as we thought he would.
I finally made it to the opening in the fence and was only 65 yards away, but there was no cover and I was simply hiding behind the fence post. The nyala knew something was up as he continually watched my direction and I sat/laid/or some other weird position for nearly 40 minutes waiting on him to move further and into cover so that I could use the embankment he was currently on to hide my quick approach.
By this time it was starting to get late and the light was beginning to fade. This hunt was going to have to change pace in a hurry if it were to be successful. The bull then began to move off of the high point and finally made his way into the low spot. I quickly moved onto a cattle path so that I could get into position before he made it out of bow range. My plan was simple, make it to the brink of the hill, draw and raise up and shoot. It worked flawlessly, except for when I raised up, there was no nyala???? He had made it into a very thick group of bushes that seemed to only be passible by one trail that went straight through the center. I was not going to follow him in there, so I used the creek to parallel and found another opening that he would have to walk through, if he hadn’t already. Like so often happens, the nyala was a step ahead of us, or his sixth sense kicked in and I heard the branches crack as he ran out the way he had entered. Quickly judging his route we hurried back to the embankment, anticipating that he would circle wide around it and we would be able to see the direction that he left. (Almost correct) He had actually stopped to see what the intruder was about 40 yards from where I stopped. I quickly judged the yardage and shot. It was good, but a touch back: about 5 inches behind the shoulder to be exact. With the clear knowledge of something having just whacked him in his side, he took off at a speed that would have made a thoroughbred proud, only that with this speed, he failed to see the fence in front of him. He hit the cattle fence and was knocked sideways from the bounce. When he got back to his feet he actually began running parallel to my position. Feeling the pain, he slowed and then stopped briefly at about 50 yards. I quickly put another arrow in him and he took off again into another bunch of brush. The death growl then came and we advanced to him. Once we got to him, he was still kicking and rolled back over on his stomach – here is where my redneck kicked in. We could have absolutely backed off and let him die, but with the fading light and the animal inside of 10 yards, I was not about to let him suffer any longer. The second shot had been good, at the back of the rib cage and exiting out the shoulder, but I put another arrow directly in his shoulder and he was out in seconds.
Now to address my earlier comment about wishing I had called it a day. In the back of my mind I wished I had taken him in one shot, and perhaps the next day I would have. Perhaps not, but now we will never know. The other reasoning was that my camera had went dead on the last picture I had taken of some young Nyala just prior to finding this guy. So now all we had was Lammie’s small camera with a minimal flash and the light was gone. Oh well, PICTURE TIME ANYWAY!
What an absolutely beautiful animal! Lammie said that he agreed with Loodt in that it was the nicest Nyala they had on their properties and I would be hard-pressed to find another one that big. I was well pleased as he had a tremendous mane, a beautiful coat and oh what horns!