My most memorable hunt.
Zimbabwe, Oct 1992
...There were about forty of them, moving in and out of the thick jess. We occasionally could see legs, and hear grumbles, but were unable to discern bulls from cows. Nothing for it, but to continue dogging them. We frequently stopped to check the ash bag to be sure of remaining downwind of the herd. We knew at some point we would have an opening adequate for a shot. The hours dragged on, and the heat of the day was brutal. The decision to call it a day and return to camp and plan our strategy for the morrow.
We departed camp before the sparrows awakened. Our early departure was necessitated because the hunting area, Gunguwe, was about an hour and half distant. We planned to arrive in the cool of the morning, just as the sun was rising. By late morning, the temp in this valley would reach upwards to 100F and hunting in the thick jess was virtually without any appreciable breeze. Our P/H Dudley Rogers was confident we would be successful before the heat got to us.
Prior to departing the vehicle, DR had Choice, our tracker, climb a convenient tree in an effort to attain a visual. We watched for some indication from Choice, and after about five minutes, he looked down and gave a thumbs up...GAME ON.
Choice took the lead, and we fell in step behind DR. Behind us came the local game scout with his ubiquitous (very worn) AK 47. Expectations were high as we began our descent onto the valley floor.
We moved slowly thru the jess and had been tracking less than an hour, and we were saturated with sweat. Choice stopped and motioned ahead and slightly right of us. We had located the herd, but we were continually stymied in our effort to determine which was legal to shoot. Ever so slowly, we closed within twenty yards of the herd, only to have them move silently away. The good news...they were not alarmed. So far, they had not detected our presence. We pressed on. Now we had been in the valley, rootn' thru the jess for more than three hours. We stopped briefly for a bit of water. In a matter of minutes after we took up the spoor, we discovered the herd had taken refuge from the sun. They were collected in the shade of a pod mahogany. At this point, we were within about forty yards from them. We moved ahead toward them, slowly and quietly to withing twenty yards of them.
If you've read this far, you no doubt figured out we're hunting elephant! And, I, your scribe is not the hunter. The hunter is my wife, Donna. On to the finale.
With Donna in tow, DR made the approach with Donna close at heal. (I, on the other hand, stood behind a small leafy bush, out of the way.)
There were five elephant standing in the shade, totally relaxed. DR and Donna were down on one knee behind a wait-a-bit bush. DR examined each one, and after a bit asked Donna "Do you see the one looking right at us?) Donna replied "There are two looking at us, which one?" Response: "On your right...shoot him right between the eyes." With a deep breath, Donna slowly stood up, mounted the .416 Taylor, switched OFF the safety, and summarily shot him right between the eyes. As the elephant was collapsing, the remaining four bulls decamped in a cloud of dust.
And that, my friends, was my most memorable hunt.
