ZIMBABWE: Dalton & York Safaris - No Bull, Double Bull

[rinehart0050]

Thanks for a great report and for sharing with me on the phone the other day!

Any time. I know you'll have a fabulous trip next year.

You're in for a real treat Charlie!

 

[buck wild]

The hippos are going bonkers outside our chalet each night. The big bulls emerge from the river and fight it out on the river flats below. Admittedly it is haunting. The missing front wall does not calm my wife’s concerns as she elbows me awake each hour to check on our imminent demise. Finally, after this goes on for a few nights, I assure her we are safe from the hippos but it is the leopards that are more concerning. One time I wish I could have kept my sarcastic trap shut. A male lion begins his solemn drumming each night at 9 pm on the cue. Again, he begins to wale his sorrows at 4 am. We find very fresh lion tracks several days during our forays into the river.

The days are rapidly dwindling. I always make a special note at the exact time any safari is halfway over. Lots to go, lots have gone. The third animal I’m really interested in is the spotted hyena. I have seen brown striped hyena in South Africa before. Don’t get me started on USFW regulations. They raked havoc on my honey badger baits back then. The spotted hyena has always represented Africa to me. Maybe it’s the National Geographic shows I watched as a kid, but whatever the reason hyena equates to Africa for me. I saw a spotted one leaving the Marakelle National Park once, but it was nothing more than a mere running dust cloud. Lots of hyena was the report on the Omay before I booked. We have heard them every night since our arrival. We see tracks all over the roads, even right up to the skinning shed where they tipped over the gut bucket being saved for an upcoming lion hunt (spoiler alert, the lion hunt was successful). York instructs the camp crew to save the buffalo ribs and hang them out for bait. The process is slow it seems. It’s not until Day 6 that the bait gets hung. We only hunt for 9. I’m semi-concerned but don’t guide the guide as they say. Day 7 finds us checking the bait site. No bait. The hyena have managed to tear it free and have absconded with the big daddy rib combo meal. No problem York exclaims. We’ll use the e-caller. Now we are on to something!

Before dinner I reduce my usual two pre-dinner cocktails to one. I abstain from the evening red wine. Nothing to cloud my abilities, I think. Maybe I overthink. The time has come, and the crew is ready at the truck when I arrive in the evening darkness. We don’t venture too far. We take the first road into the dry river basin. Same place we killed the bushbuck a day or so earlier. We back the truck against a cliff face with the sand flat in front. A speaker is produced and York ques a few hyena-ish sounds from his phone. He surveys the valley with his FLIR. The sequence of calls continues, two minutes, five minutes. Nothing. Eight minutes, ten minutes and I’m losing faith in this set up. Maybe we should move to another area. Heck York isn’t even looking through the FLIR anymore. A ghastly heckle of some sort comes from immediately above us over the cliff. The FLIR confirms a hyena is within 5 yards and 15 feet ABOVE us. I’m sure Zvito and crew dove from the back seat to the truck bed at this point. He continues to circle and issue his territorial call toward what he believes to be a group of intruders. York whispers, “He’s in front. You won’t have much time once I switch on the torch. Are you ready?” Yep. I find him quickly but as advertised he is moving left to right and picking up steam. Not my best follow through side. My skeet shooting will attest to that. I make the shot and he appears hit. A semi-technical gun malfunction for 20 seconds and he is gone in the darkness. Everything is eerily quiet again. The mood is TENSE I’d say. Night hunting tends to heighten the senses.

We slowly drive to the last spot in the reeds where he was visible. I think everyone is hopeful he’ll be laying right there. He is not. Due to the volume of very large night predators/animals in the area: lions, leopards, hyena, elephants, hippo Oh My, the decision is made that only a smaller group will pick up the trail. I remain at the truck with all the normal doubts creeping in. It is dark, I mean unusually dark tonight. I can see the group has ceased zig zagging and is now moving in the same direction as they disappear from my rear-view mirror. Tick tock, tick tock. My mind is racing when a single shot rings out. Well at least I know they have caught up with it. Finally, I see a single light approaching from the rear. It’s Sunny Boy and he is all smiles! Alright- all is good in the hunting world again this night. The first shot was good. They followed a blood trial until coming upon him trying to scramble up a river island bank. York just shorten the remaining tracking job and I was happy for that. Finally, my African iconic animal.

Few animals scream Africa more to me than the hyena.

 

[cpr0312]

Congrats on the hyena! Hoping to get one myself at the end of September

 

[cadams8257]

Congrats. Very interesting read.

 

[buck wild]

Somewhere during a lunchtime drive along the lake shore, an extra-large, very old baboon decided to take perch under the shade of a tree. A village menace no doubt. Fish stealer and havoc wrecker for anyone passing by. Maybe he should have cut his break shorter. It will replace my ruined baboon cape from a previous trip. I bet there were two baboons fighting for supremacy shortly after our departure.

We travel to various spots along the lake over the course of several days. We are looking for any of the plains game that frequent the area. Elephant make the lake home and we has several livelily encounters. It's interesting to see the mature cows circles the babies until they are safe. Quite understandable how many people are killed each year when unknowingly getting between mother and calf.

 

[buck wild]

During one of our trips unto the river flood plain late evening we spot a herd, of what I would have estimated over 200 buffalo, cross from the national park into the concession. We are perched above them and get ring side seats to the amazing National Geographic spectacle. We can hear them splashing through the river as they cross and daylight fades.

Oh the river. We came to it often. It’s a game rich paradise. As my story began, we found ourselves on the wrong side of a small but deep finger. We need to cross it or walk back a half mile to cross at a flat, shallow section. Zvito decides he can build a rock bridge and commences to do so with Tinashe making two Ninja leaps over a jagged section to the other side. They will build sections from each side and meet in the middle. It is here I make the ill-fated joke that I’d make Zvito famous on Youtube if he fell in while crossing. Zvito has already been on several episodes of TIA. When I note I had seen him in the grasshopper episode, he was perplexed that I could have known about that. He’s famous I tell him Two minutes later I’m the one being helped from the river. At least the water cooled me down from an otherwise grueling hike back to the truck through the never-ending riverbank sand.

Luckily there is no video of me taking a dip

Zvito's famous grasshopper segment

If you want to catch the whole segment featured on TIA.

 

[buck wild]

I think I will be able to wrap up the majority of the report tomorrow. If you have hung in this long, I don't think you'll want to miss the ending !!



@BRICKBURN Can I get my first elephant pic as my report cover page, please ?

 

[rinehart0050]

Loving this report. Awesome hyena! That herd of buffalo was impressive!

 

[buck wild]

Coupe De Grace - The Final Act

Shortly before my departure for the trip, I reached out to express my desire to hunt a second buffalo if possible. Sounds like a plan was the response. After success on the first bull, I learned that the second might not be possible. Another hunt had been booked and the quota was filled. I was disappointed to hear this news. I did my best to not let it taint the remaining portion of my hunt. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t eating at me a little though. Although I was very happy with my buff, my decision would have been different had I known a second wasn’t a possibility. Sitting by the lake shore after lunch one day, York advised the second buff is available again. I didn’t ask why, only “Ok, let’s hunt buffalo”.

Earlier that morning I had passed on another great bushbuck I wish I’d had back now. I was holding out on a second with several days left. There was also a fantastic waterbuck stalk in the river that worked to perfection. We took the high ground while a small drive through the reeds pushed the herd in front of our elevated position. The bull was just a little young. A second stalk through the reeds resulted in closing distance on a larger waterbuck bull. Once again, I slipped the gun from the sticks and replaced it with the camera. He, along with my copper bushbuck, will live on with me forever in digital form.

Into the river again for waterbuck

 

[buck wild]

Later the same morning we stalked through a burned area with a few steep hills that rolled into the lake. Not far from here we had witnessed the scene where two kudu bulls had locked in battle. Horn drag marks and hair littered the ground. Stout bulls from the looks of it. We bumped three zebras in a bottom and up the far hillside they retreated.

York made a spectacular spot across another valley to reveal a bedded waterbuck bull. We stalked to within 80 yds of the bedded bull and again he was captured by my camera. All these hunts within the hunt are part of the chess game. Sometimes you win, other times you live to play another day.

Is York the Snake King? I have already described his narrow and harrowing escape from the spitting cobra. As we walked the river early on, we run into a 6’ python and Zvito nearly jumps out of his shoes when a grass snake slithered from beneath a rock he had just stepped over as we stalked a bedded waterbuck.

 

[buck wild]

Two hunting days left. We are buffalo hunting again. The plan is to return to the western edges of the concession to a block known as Mackenzie. It’s a long haul to get there but only one bull has been killed in this area in the past three years. We were there several days ago and there was fresh buff spore. During the previous trip over, Zvito spotted several kudu. A bull was in the group, but no one got a good look at his headgear. They are entrenched in the thick jess. We circled down wind. 200 yards in, we bump into a herd of elephant with several young calves. We come back out the same direction we arrived-quickly. Earlier that same morning an elephant cow and young bull had trumpeted as we drove past and gave a less than enthusiastic chase for several meters. I’m not sure if it’s the same group, but the elephants in this area flat don’t like us. During our return to camp on another evening, we are stopped in the road by a group of teenagers. They advise an elephant is ahead and is harassing and charging them as they attempt to walk past. York, Zvito and Tinashe go in pursuit of said ele and find the young bull only meters from a local hut. It requires several warning shots from the group to dissuade the bull from hanging around. At the shots, the crowd of youngsters takes off up the hill. Maybe they should have waited as the elephant departed in the same direction minutes later. The residents of the affected hut had been hunkered down, trying to not make any noise that would agitate the bull. Daily life in the villages.

Back to buffalo. We traversed the dry rivers, rocky roads, collapsing bridges, two track dirt paths and arrived at the desired location shortly after daybreak. The terrain is not as steep here. It’s rolling, with open mopani thickets. A giant handlebar warthog boar is seen scurrying away. Everyone is excited and we follow in earnest. Bumped him once never to be seen again. Back to the truck. Down by the lake shore on a dry sand bar, Zvito picks up two dagga boy tracks. The two bulls meander along, zig zagging through shallow drainages with no apparent rhyme or reason. Tracks are lost twice but picked up again. Then a bed, followed by another. The bulls have circled back to our downwind side. Maybe they are that smart. Smart enough to know daily something is trying to eat them. Zvito notes the bulls are now running as they likely smelled, heard, or observed us on their backtrail. It’s close to 11 am. It is determined we are within 500 yds of a road and we radio ins our rendezvous point. Our group begins a beeline for the road moving along at a decent pace. Zvito begins circling like a bird dog. He has cut fresh tracks again. Not sure if it was the same previous bulls but we take up the track. Within 100 yds we hear the tail tale sound of a bull coughing. Everyone locks on in the same direction. We slowly ease forward. This time Tinashe picks up movement from the rear of the group. He points and I see a tail swishing. York bemoans the finicky morning breeze. It is decided to back out and return when the afternoon wind should be better.

 

[buck wild]

We circle back and eventually get to the road. We take station along the lake shore again for lunch. The cool breeze off the water provides relief to the blazing afternoon sun. It’s one of the warmest afternoons since we have arrived. I am able to grab a quick nap in the shade after a second helping of peach tart for dessert. There is a herd of impala and a couple warthogs down by the water nibbling on the green shoots of new growth. Fishing boats pass the shore with the rhythmical thumping of their diesel engines.

I lay on the lake shore staring up at the nest of the weaver bird (??) daydreaming about my last 1 1/2 days left on this trip. It all goes so dizzying fast.

 

[buck wild]

Oh and I forgot, I was able to save the video cam from destruction. I always house it in a neoprene sleeve and being in my front pocket, it didn't get completely submerged in the river . A little sunshine and bowl of rice revived it enough to continue the trip.

 

[Red Leg]

After finally watching the bushbuck for 10 minutes we slowly push forward. Nothing else around the next finger but a sunning croc and we proceed back to the truck. When we arrive, as I eject the round from the rifle, I tell York, “ Hope I don’t regret that.” He assures me there are lots of bushbuck rams. We will find the right one. Oh but not one with this stunning, glistening coat of copper!

Bushbuck, oh bushbuck, where art thou? They are everywhere actually. There’s the ram with two ewes just aside from the herd of 28 waterbuck cows in the river basin. There’s the large horned, but very narrow ram that slips up the river bank to the thick bush thinking keen eyed Zvito hasn’t already spotted him. It truly is bushbuck heaven here.

As we had done several times, York times our arrival to a certain river flat just as the sun fades over the Matusadona mountains. The flat is occupied by baboons and impala. There tucked within the patches of river reeds now exposed in the dry sand beds is another good bushbuck ram. Good but still not the one. York spots another ram several hundred yards up near a large pool of water. The one by the big dead tree. I’m not sure how this is going to work. We have 40 animals between us. Neither does York, but with the fading light, we decide to go for broke. The baboons are first to vacant but surprisingly they don’t sound the normal alarm call. An impala ewe watches us slide down into the flood plain and slips off but again no alarm call. We quickly make it to the reeds. By the way, they look soft but in fact are very bristlely (is that a word?). Patch by patch, we creep through the reeds. We are out of cover and emerge around the cliff face that protrudes into the river. I estimate 125-150 yards to the ram who is now keenly aware something is out of place. He looks very mature. York confirms my same thought, “Let’s shoot”. Sticks, gun, PH’s shoulder for right elbow. The report of a solid hit echoes through the valley and the ram folds on the spot. Front, high shoulder. He is gorgeous. The perfect bushbuck. He meets both hunting and wildlife art perimeters. The wife was taken back to camp when we were dropped off. York ponders if we should retrieve her for pictures. Not an option. She will absolutely want to be here. Sunny Boy retrieve the Madam please.

Down into the River we go.

View attachment 421099

Eureka- bushbuck pot of gold!

View attachment 421089

I'm more than thrilled to have passed the others for this tremendous, old ram.

Zvito and Tinashe during more than their share to get the ram closer to the vehicle and pictures.

Lovely bushbuck

 

[PARA45]

Wow, you have me on the edge of my seat. What a beautiful report and hunt! I'll have to say that you and I are lucky to have a wives that will accompany us to the edges of the earth.

 

[cpr0312]

Congrats on the baboon! Always a tough one to get

 

[Red Leg]

Coupe De Grace - The Final Act

Shortly before my departure for the trip, I reached out to express my desire to hunt a second buffalo if possible. Sounds like a plan was the response. After success on the first bull, I learned that the second might not be possible. Another hunt had been booked and the quota was filled. I was disappointed to hear this news. I did my best to not let it taint the remaining portion of my hunt. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t eating at me a little though. Although I was very happy with my buff, my decision would have been different had I known a second wasn’t a possibility. Sitting by the lake shore after lunch one day, York advised the second buff is available again. I didn’t ask why, only “Ok, let’s hunt buffalo”.

Earlier that morning I had passed on another great bushbuck I wish I’d had back now. I was holding out on a second with several days left. There was also a fantastic waterbuck stalk in the river that worked to perfection. We took the high ground while a small drive through the reeds pushed the herd in front of our elevated position. The bull was just a little young. A second stalk through the reeds resulted in closing distance on a larger waterbuck bull. Once again, I slipped the gun from the sticks and replaced it with the camera. He, along with my copper bushbuck, will live on with me forever in digital form.

Into the river again for waterbuck

Not sure what the area produces, but good call on the waterbuck. Really enjoying your hunt.

 

[Randy F]

Spectacular bushbuck and love the hyena! Congratulations! Very much enjoying your report.

 

[AZDAVE]

Thank you for sharing your adventure with all of us. The hyena is on my short list so I really like the one you got!

 

[buck wild]

Let's see, where did we leave off? Oh that right's we left a couple dagga boys resting in the afternoon sun.

The team reassembles as the sun begins its descent into the late afternoon shadows. Heading back to the area we last left the buffalo, we run into three locals walking from a fishing area back to their huts. I realize we are very close to our intended destination. I hope they have not bumped our resting bulls. Into the mopani we trek. Several hundred yards in York laments he forgot his binos in the truck. Oh very good sign! Every time you forget something you need; it usually results in you needing it. I hand him mine and advise him,” Make sure he’s big”. Our group is leisurely working our way toward where we left the resting bulls earlier. Suddenly Zvito comes unglued, pointing to our left. It’s as animated as I have seen Zvito all trip. York snaps to attention. All I hear him whisper is that we are “shooting this bull”. He hasn’t even used his newfound binos yet. Behind the shoulder, behind the shoulder.

I don’t even see this bull yet. I’m frantically scanning up the ridge to the brush line 125 yards ahead. Then in the bright sunlight below, I recognize the back of a buffalo standing in the tall grass just 50 yds ahead. He doesn’t know we are there, and I get settled on the sticks. All I have is his right hip and partial head visible. He is feeding straight away but in front of a large tree. He will have to go left or right. He leans right. We slowly slide 10 yards to our right. It’s a better angle now. He begins to come clear and I’ve yet to get much indication of what caliber bull this is. The sun and bush leave nothing more than a big, black silhouette as my target. I find the shoulder the best I can figure and touch off the buffalo poison.

He reacts to the shot and moves up the hillside I was scanning earlier. He stops within 20 yds and again nothing more than a big black blob, but I know his head is to the right. I send another. He is up over the ridge. Again, everyone is nodding it was a good first shot. Second was a bit more of a wild card, yet it connected also.

Gingerly but quickly we head up. I have already refilled the magazine with more poison. As we crest the ridge, he is now moving right to left but clearly hurt. Dang fangled three stage safety trips me up and I encourage York to shoot if he can. York’s rifle barks once or twice if I remember correctly and the bull disappears into yes, another gully. Our group reassembles and reloads. Then the bellow, that glorious bellow. All interested parties are relieved. We make our way down to a beast of a bull. I dispatch the $16 insurance policy, and all is quiet again.

He is noticeably bigger bodied than my first bull. York performs the ritual eye touch and proclaims us successful. Zvito gets to the bull next and there is an exchange of him being the “Mackenzie Tank”, the “Mackenzie Tank”. Yes, even Tinashe confirms, “Mackenzie Tank”. I was going with “big ass buffalo” myself.

Double upped bulls. This was the adventure I had waited four previous safaris and 14 years in total to fulfill. He’s everything one could want is a bull. Old, worn down, polished smooth bosses, heavy, and wide (if that’s your thing and I kinda like it). Someone later taped him at just over 42” for the inquiring minds.