ZIMBABWE: A Local Hunt To The Save

[Kevin Peacocke]

DAY 2
On the Hilux by 4:30, the objective of the day being a buff and whatever else came. Our card had three buff cows on it, a zebra, warthog and lots of impala, with some jiggle room. Even this early it was obvious the day would be a scorcher and I noted Edson packing extra water into his pack, good man. I opted for thick long pants because of the tangled thorn bush, but would regret that decision later. We drove about 10km and debussed near a water pan to check for tracks. Plenty, but none too fresh so we headed off up a bush track and soon cut spoor of a herd of maybe 20 buff that crossed in the night. Andrew set up a brisk pace and our snake of seven weaved behind, Anon on point for the first buff. The tracks took us straight back to the pan, but veered off into thicker bush before they got there, something must have put them off. On and on we went, the dung getting softer, the air getting hotter and me getting more puffed. By 10am the sun was beating mercilessly and we reckoned the temp was around 40C. The dung now was barely crusted and thankfully Andrew eased up the pace. Off to one side a moo, and there they were, about 100 metres off. The shooting group departed and we waited for the shot, but minutes later thundering hooves souded as the wind busted them. It was obvious Andrew blamed himself, but by now the breeze was swirling all over the place, nothing to do.
Back on the track and at pace once more, sweating profusely and legs aching, this was tough! Eventually I reached my limit and fearing heat stroke called a halt for a rest. As it happened we were only about 50 metres from the truck, I felt a little silly. Looking around at all the guys with their bloodied legs I was smug with my longs - for now.
Back to camp for lunch and a welcome siesta before getting back at it, Before breaking Dalton dragged a branch over the tracks so the trackers could easily see where the herd went. We picked them up heading back to the pan where they stopped to drink and carried on. Return to full pace and as the gap closed the heavens opened. There was nothing for it but to wait it out and hope some spoor remained. At let up, we continued sloshing and sliding, Kev Woods now on point. A halt was called, the herd was just across a sand river, so the hunt group butt-crawled forward and were about to get on aim when a cow spotted them - gone. After them again and in a surprisingly short time the hand went up, we all sank and the hunt group inched forward into position behind some mopanes. We waited for the shot, and waited, a full 40 minutes we waited wondering 'what are these guys doing?' Then the now familiar sound of the buff thundering off. Apparently what happened was this was a group of four dagga boys that our herd ran through and on beyond and these four set up a sort of stop group. The hunt team weren't to know this, believing the cows were part of them and just behind, and ended up in a long staring session with the dagga boys. We continued after the main herd, but with a 40 minute head start it was more wishful than serious. Now those heavily wet trousers were taking their toll, a few extra kg's and the chaffing were undearable and convinced me that shorts and a few scratches are the way to go in rainy weather at least.

No shots fired, but were satisfied, and very worn out. As we waited for the truck in the twilight a leopard coughed to salute the victory of the buff - for now.

 

[Jörg Krüger]

Thank you for posting Kevin. Enjoying the read.

 

[VertigoBE]

excellent story telling @Kevin Peacocke ! Can't wait for the next installment!
Hope you packed some shorts too

 

[Tally-Ho HUNTING SAFARIS]

good choice on the land cruisers, not the little landy!!
nice story, been caught hunting ele this time of year in zim.......always fun....not

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

good choice on the land cruisers, not the little landy!!
nice story, been caught hunting ele this time of year in zim.......always fun....not

We will yet put a buff on that little 80" landy, it handled this huge zebra and four okes just fine!

 

[C.W. Richter]

"Dr. Peacocke, I presume?"

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

DAY 3
Drenched the previous evening we all took our Courteneys off to dry around the fire. Next morning my one boot had obviously caught too much heat and had shrunk, just couldn't get it on even after forcefully stretching it. One of the guys suggested wetting it again and I was about to take that drastic step when Woods sauntered over looking sheepish, he had my boot on his right foot and I was left with his size 8 - we laughed a lot!
Today the plan was to try the thickly vegetated valleys between the granite kopjies, a real jungle lane of a place that had me on full alert. Almost immediately we cut buffalo tracks and began the follow up. At the first bump we hadn't even seen them and they crashed off left and right, maybe two groups. Andrew took up the left group and we cautiously moved forward, wag 'n bietjie thorns grabbing mercilessly at our clothes as we went. Then we heard them close by and the hand went up, slowly the whole group edged forward towards the point where the hunters would split. Suddenly Andrew wheeled back and ungently whispered "elephant". We all made an inelegant exit and moved well off before regrouping - Save elephant charge for nothing, always. Taking a wide circle we got back on the buff again, but as soon as they were in sight they crashed off once more.
The buff this side appeared well spooked so the decision was made to leave the area alltogether. We drove far west towards the boundary, obviously a less visited area. The track back looked little used, by vehicles that is, but elephants had downed so many trees across the way that it took us until mid afternoon to do maybe 20km. I made a stalk on a group of zebra along the way with a magnificent stallion, but just couldn't get a shot.
Back on the main arterial road the trackers spotted more zebra off to the left Anon was up and made a great shot on a small mare that he wanted for a rug. Loaded up, we decided to call it a day and wend our way back to camp for sundowners. That plan soon evaporated when the trackers spotted a herd of buff off to the left. The team debussed to begin a follow up while Cleopas, Barney and I continued on to camp to drop the zebra off and have a cup of tea.
About 40 minutes later the radio crackled, 'buffalo hit, pursuit in progress'. The hunters were standing on the side of the road looking a little worried - Anon had taken a frontal quartering shot at about 140 metres with his scoped 375, an obvious hit but the buff cow had made for very thick stuff to set up her ambush. Just too dangerous at this late stage in the day so being close to camp the dog man was called in. This huge fellow duly arrived with a wide grin and each of his two dogs sported a huger grin like this was ultimate sport. Off they tore and not five minutes later the barking began, followed by a shot, and a second. Then dead silence. The smiling group emerged to signal the all well and the recovery began. At last, a buff! Woods, not used to running after dogs found a shady spot to have a quick collapse.
That night Cloud the chef produced a buffalo tail potjie, one of the tastiest meals I have ever enjoyed and the group was visibly more relaxed having scored some success.

 

[NJC]

Congrats on the teams success!!! It looks like you are all having a stellar time. Makes me wish I had a hunt booked

I love seeing the potjie! I bought a number 3 years ago and have come to realize that it is the most effective and versatile cooking tool available!

 

[Rare Breed]

DAY 3
Drenched the previous evening we all took our Courteneys off to dry around the fire. Next morning my one boot had obviously caught too much heat and had shrunk, just couldn't get it on even after forcefully stretching it. One of the guys suggested wetting it again and I was about to take that drastic step when Woods sauntered over looking sheepish, he had my boot on his right foot and I was left with his size 8 - we laughed a lot!
Today the plan was to try the thickly vegetated valleys between the granite kopjies, a real jungle lane of a place that had me on full alert. Almost immediately we cut buffalo tracks and began the follow up. At the first bump we hadn't even seen them and they crashed off left and right, maybe two groups. Andrew took up the left group and we cautiously moved forward, wag 'n bietjie thorns grabbing mercilessly at our clothes as we went. Then we heard them close by and the hand went up, slowly the whole group edged forward towards the point where the hunters would split. Suddenly Andrew wheeled back and ungently whispered "elephant". We all made an inelegant exit and moved well off before regrouping - Save elephant charge for nothing, always. Taking a wide circle we got back on the buff again, but as soon as they were in sight they crashed off once more.
The buff this side appeared well spooked so the decision was made to leave the area alltogether. We drove far west towards the boundary, obviously a less visited area. The track back looked little used, by vehicles that is, but elephants had downed so many trees across the way that it took us until mid afternoon to do maybe 20km. I made a stalk on a group of zebra along the way with a magnificent stallion, but just couldn't get a shot.
Back on the main arterial road the trackers spotted more zebra off to the left Anon was up and made a great shot on a small mare that he wanted for a rug. Loaded up, we decided to call it a day and wend our way back to camp for sundowners. That plan soon evaporated when the trackers spotted a herd of buff off to the left. The team debussed to begin a follow up while Cleopas, Barney and I continued on to camp to drop the zebra off and have a cup of tea.
About 40 minutes later the radio crackled, 'buffalo hit, pursuit in progress'. The hunters were standing on the side of the road looking a little worried - Anon had taken a frontal quartering shot at about 140 metres with his scoped 375, an obvious hit but the buff cow had made for very thick stuff to set up her ambush. Just too dangerous at this late stage in the day so being close to camp the dog man was called in. This huge fellow duly arrived with a wide grin and each of his two dogs sported a huger grin like this was ultimate sport. Off they tore and not five minutes later the barking began, followed by a shot, and a second. Then dead silence. The smiling group emerged to signal the all well and the recovery began. At last, a buff! Woods, not used to running after dogs found a shady spot to have a quick collapse.
That night Cloud the chef produced a buffalo tail potjie, one of the tastiest meals I have ever enjoyed and the group was visibly more relaxed having scored some success.
View attachment 437185View attachment 437186View attachment 437187

Kevin have you gotten your new 450-400? If so where are the pictures and reports of her performance my friend

 

[thi9elsp]

Great fun and enjoying going along from afar. I can relate to the worn out look and feel after walking all day. You will be fit and trim by the end of the trip!

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

Kevin have you gotten your new 450-400? If so where are the pictures and reports of her performance my friend

Not yet RB, cant wait.

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

Great fun and enjoying going along from afar. I can relate to the worn out look and feel after walking all day. You will be fit and trim by the end of the trip!

Fit and sore more like!

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

DAY 4
The decision was made to try something different yet again, that is the beauty of hunting somewhere as vast and diverse as the Save - today we would journey to the Save river itself. Off at 4:30 again the morning air was already warm, portending another scorcher. As we approached the riparian forrest the senses were assailed by delicious smells of earth, blossom and for want of a better description - Africa. The ambiance is not unlike Mana Pools with a broad flood plain covered with large shade trees, just thicker.
Dalton pulled up under a group of massive jackalberry trees and there down the sloping bank was the Save! Unlike at Birchenough bridge where it is bank to bank sand, here the water flows, quite briskly in fact. The first thing I noticed was the belly scale imprint of a large croc, good thing we weren't crossing. Wrong! Dalton gave the command, "boots off boys a wading we will go", ala John Sharp.

The buff were definitely on the island, lots of bellowing, so we cautiously moved forward, Woods on point this time still hoping for his first buff. I could see from his face and body language that he was as nervous as he was excited, all the stories of buff charges buzzing in his head, not to mention his own father-in-law having spent two months in hospital after a ride on those famous curled horns.
The croc was fortunately otherwise occupied and we crossed happily. Dalton froze, the herd of about twenty had just broken out of cover onto a sand channel about 70 metres ahead, totally oblivious to our presence. Up went the sticks, on went Woods. "Which one?" "The one on the left". Boom went the Ruger No1, the buff bucked indicating a solid boiler room hit and it staggered a mere 20 paces before collapsing, the 300 grain TBBC having done its work. Not quite the left Dalton had in mind, this was a youngish but very nice bull instead and Woods received lots of hand shakes and back slaps.

The rest of the herd hadn't gone far so Dalton made the call to leave Woods' bull and get after them. Barney was up next and the herd materialised around some bushes maybe 80 metres off. Barney lined up his 458 and fired, but absolutely no reaction from the cow and they all merely sauntered off. We advanced carefully checking for any blood, but none - a clean miss which was chalked up to the open sights on this old rifle. Again the buff hadn't gone far and were peering at us from their refuge in the reeds. This time equipped with the scoped Mod 70 375 H&H Barney squeezed off a shot that devastated the cow in his sights, I doubt she made 10 metres. I believe the bullet was a Barnes TTSX.
Two buff before 7am and within a few minutes of eachother! Although no record we were all roundly elated by this unequivocally good achievement and Dalton received thanks and congratulations for having master minded it.

Then the reality set in, how were we going to retrieve these buff? There was no way the Hilux could get across so there was nothing for it but to skin and butcher them where they fell. Out came the knives and Dalton and his team set about the task with practiced precision, what a procedure to witness. First the skin was peeled off, leaving it laying as a working surface, then the guts came out, then the head, neck and hind quarters came off, all laid on a carpet of sausage tree leaves. Finally the torso was chopped into two sections at about the middle if the ribs. I lent the one skinner my little Opinel folder and he didn't want to give it back, so we will get each of them one of these prized possessions to commemorate.

That part done, time for a breather and to take it all in.

Next came the huge task of portering all the meat over to the other side. The chunks were just manageable by one, but the skin was so heavy it had to be poled.

Th sun meantime was beating down through the blue sky now alive with vultures, at least a hundred up there waiting to clean up the little we left. My job was to ferry all the rifles across and at the water's edge I removed my boots, it was a good thing nobody videod the merry jig that ensued dancing on the unbearably hot sand balancing this lot. The water brought little relief, at that stage the feet were well and truly burnt and with each stride the sharp sand exacerbated it. Once across, there was nothing for it but to take a goof in that beautiful river.

A testimony to the hardy Hilux - two buff and eleven pax. It could well have been an ox wagon, we were in a time warp and what a privto experience what it must have been like back in the grand old age of the African safari.

That night we celebrated, toasting Woods' first buff with a party in the river bed. Glasses of The Dalmore were raised and Cohibas filled the evening with their rich aroma. Dalton and Brendan roasted the buffalo fillet in the coals, it was superb. Did I say I love hunting?

 

[gillettehunter]

Now that is the stuff that makes memories. Congrats. Thanks for sharing.
Bruce

 

[BRICKBURN]

Roasted Buffalo filet brings back some tasty memories.

Well done team.

 

[chashardy]

Great reports and pics! Thanks Kevin!

 

[Pheroze]

Great report! Sounds like a fantastic time

 

[VertigoBE]

Congrats @Kevin Peacocke on a great adventure! Thanks a lot for sharing, I love how you can bring those details to life, with imprint of the croc, the leaves as a canvas for the butchering and the burning sand to torture your feet!

What a hunt!

 

[Kevin Peacocke]

DAY 5 Last Day
Just some impala and possibly a zebra left on the tag, we may easily have collected them from the front porch, there are literally hundreds around camp. A good herd of nyala visits too, the ram is still young but they are all so beautiful.

I was first up, a nice group of impala rams at about 60 metres. The first went down well so I decided to swing on a second, a left and right with the little double, or more correctly a top and bottom.

Barney and Woods were next and between us all we got six nice impala. The day ended with a sundowner overlooking the pan, a herd of eland in the background.

PROLOGUE
Although the Save fence is in bad shape, the internal anti-poaching effort is very good and professional and is deterring the rhino and elephant poachers. This fantastic place needs as much support as we can give it, it would be great to replace the entire perimeter fence with a proper steel one. A very good cause to campaign for or leave something to.

 

[AZDAVE]

Kevin thank you for taking us along on your adventure with your friends. I enjoyed the telling of the story and g;lad you wee able to get the 375 Verney back up and hunting. But do know your are very much looking forwad to your 450/400.