ZIMBABWE: Once Upon A Time With Mapassa Safaris

[Rare Breed]

Hmmm.... What shall I do, continue posting for today??? Or keep you all in suspense...



enough teasing:

outstanding bull!!!!!

 

[Nyati]

Great bull, and a well written story, congrats

 

[BnC 04]

Congratulations on your bull!

 

[Riksa]

Fantastics bull and a great story! Thank you for sharing it with us. Tough hunting with some highs and lows is what makes great memories.

 

[TAG SAFARI]

Reminds me of Home - Bulawayo - What a Great Bull! Congratulations !

 

[MontanaPat]

Great bull elephant, loving the story and waiting for more!

 

[VertigoBE]

Reminds me of Home - Bulawayo - What a Great Bull! Congratulations !

You’ll be making an appearance later on

 

[Firebird]

Enjoying all the details of your report. Thanks for sharing!

 

[Frederik]

Well written and what an adventure to actually hunt an elephnat older than you that is very special.
I'll need some serious luck and hard work to be done to get an elephnat older than me still possible but the window is closing.

 

[PARA45]

What an amazing adventure, with all the ups and down you had to deal with, and finally a hard-earned bull. Congratulations!!!!

 

[gillettehunter]

Congrats! That is an excellent bull. Darn good shooting too. You worked hard and earned that animal. I really enjoy your writing style. Easy to read and we can easily visualize your hunt.
Bruce

 

[MMAL]

Great write up and great shot.

 

[Troubleshooter]

Well done indeed!

 

[VertigoBE]

Day 6 – 26/10/2022 – Almost a Mapassa McNab​

In order for all of us to have a day of rest and also for Vaughan, Garth and Ian to spend some relaxing fun time together, Vaughan organised a day of fishing on a nearby lake. For Vaughan, fishing competes with hunting, as to his favourite activity. And I’m not quite sure that hunting always wins out. Myself, I have never been much of a fisherman. I enjoyed it enough this trip, as I was a long time on safari, and catching some fish also means we could change our diets a little. The little cubes of fish, breadcrumbed and fried, made excellent appetizers!

At the lake, we were going to try and catch some bass and catfish. It was actually the same lake, where we had taken a plunge the day before. Good times were had by all and we soon had a dozen fish in the hold of the Piranha boat. Even I managed to catch a few! I also lost plenty of Vaughan’s lures, when my casts would go into some brush where we could not retrieve them. After filling up the hold, we went back for lunch to the shore to have some grilled fish. Half of them were released again. While we were having lunch, we had to run under some shelter, as a thunderstorm arrived. With hunder and lightning striking around us and heavy rainfall, we chatted the time away. Luckily after an hour it cleared up again. It was only a precursor of what was to come.... As if the clouds had to go for a test run to remember how to make it rain.

As soon as sunlight was breaking out again, we were back in the boat fishing some new spots and having a jolly good time, drinking beer, talking smack about each other’s casts and landing more fish along the way. After I had gotten my line stuck for the umpteenth time and Garth had fished for Vaughan’s line again, we spotted a group of impala. I had discussed with Vaughan, that for the remaining 11 days or so of my safari, I might be interested in going for a leopard. I had a leopard on license and Vaughan still had a tag remaining for this year, so as we had the time, this could be something interesting to do. I am not very passionate about hunting the cats, least so leopards, but this was a moment of “well, I might at least try for one”. Leopard being one of the other species that the Belgian government would be outlawing the importation of trophies from.

In order to hunt leopard, we would be needing meat for bait, so taking another impala, apart from supplying us as well with some fresh meat too, made sense. Besides it looked like a big ram and I never tire of impala hunting.

The group of impala was feeding along the lake bank and had not noticed us yet. Vaughan handed me the .22 Magnum rifle that was in the boat and told me to shoot it. Moving around in the little boat was not easy for 4 big guys, and even more difficult to get a steady position. I splayed out on my belly on the stern of the little boat, resting the rifle on the front bass motor, with my hat as some cushioning. Slowly we drifted with the main engine shut off, closer to where the impala were. Once we were about 150 meters away and I was steady enough, with no one moving in the boat, I pulled the trigger, having aimed just on the shoulder. The ram dropped like a sack of potatoes, but he was still kicking on the ground. Two more follow up shots while he was trashing, made him stop moving. High fives all around and Garth and I jumped overboard to go pick him up. Garth went first and was carrying the rifle.

While wading through the water, we saw the ram pick itself up. With Garth holding the .22 mag, Vaughan and Ian were yelling “Shoot him!” He did get one more shot in, before it disappeared behind some brushes. We were not too worried as we could clearly see that he was very sick, with two leg’s out of action. Garth ran in front of me, as my tender feet did not allow me to move very fast over the gravel, sand and rocks. Upon reaching the brush, he found the ram lying there and gave him one more finishing shot and then he brought it back on his shoulders to the boat. What a resistance these African animal's have!

Some pictures and laughs later, we were back in the boat, fishing away, but now with a stowaway. As I had fished bass in the morning, shot an impala from the boat in the afternoon, if I could now shoot a duck or a goose, I would be able to get a Mapassa McNab.

The McNab challenge originates from Scotland, where a sportsmen hunter, would try to shoot a red deer stag, flyfish for a salmon and shoot a brace of grouse between dawn and dusk of the same day. As I now had the fish and the antelope, it was a bird I was missing. So we kept the rifle at the ready, in case a duck or a goose would be swimming too close. But they all stayed at a distance.

After we had finished fishing for the day, we took the boat back to the landing place, enjoying the magnificent African sunset over the water. While coming back we noticed something very peculiar. In some shallow water we saw an eagle fighting with a heron. Upon approaching, it looked like the heron was stuck somehow and could not get away from his aggressor. In the meantime, the eagle flew away, unhappy to have to release such an easy catch. Garth jumped overboard and waded to the bird. What had happened is a fish had gotten stuck in one of the illegal nets that locals use to fish for bass. The heron had seen the fish splashing away and proceeded to try to swallow it whole, while it was still firmly stuck in the net. The heron swallowed fish and net together and suddenly got stuck too, unable to throw it back up. He looked like he had been thrashing about for some time and did not seem to be in such great shape anymore. Garth managed to pull the net from the heron’s crop, releasing the fish as well and tried to get as much as possible of the net out from the water. While we drove off, the heron was standing on two wobbly legs, still shaken by the ordeal, but by the time we were almost out of sight, he flew off.

After landing the boat, we loaded everything back on the Land Cruiser and the trailer, and returned back to Marshlands for a great dinner of elephant’s tail and elephant stew. Then off to bed, as tomorrow we would need to desperately find some zebra for bait.

Day 7 – 27/10/2022 – “Mhofu”​

Waking up at 4:30 again, we decided to stay on Marshlands to find some disco donkey’s. We were in need of bait, otherwise this leopard plan would never get off the ground. After having spotted a small herd through the brush, we tried to stalk the same group up to three times, but each time, as soon as we could get close enough to see them again, they would leave the area at speed. In order to have more chances in locating some zebra, the group had split up into Vaughan, Mlillo and I, with the other group consisting of Garth, Ian, Seda and Junior. This second group would climb different kopjes, to have a better overview and guide us in if we would see anything. Everyone was helping out trying to get one over on these common zebra, but to no avail.

Ian, for whom we also were having a look if we could find some Kudu was not in much luck either. When our group advanced across a ridge line, we suddenly came upon 3 kudu bull’s. One was young still, but the two others were nice specimen’s, one looking quite old. We got to observe them from about 80 meters. They had seen us, but as we were no longer approaching them, they stayed for a bit, walking back and forth and looking up to us. There was no way for Ian to have gotten in time there, and there was some banter afterwards. As we had proposed to him to come with us, but he preferred to go sit on a kopje instead.

Eventually we got on another group of zebra, that we pushed a few times. The last time, they ran all the way to a range of hills in the distance. The wind was not helping us at all, and as the zebra were not playing ball either, we had to regroup empty handed.

After a short discussion, we decided to drive back to the lodge for lunch. Vaughan, Mlillo and I went back on Vaughan’s Land Cruiser, while the others would get back with Garth’s Hilux. While driving there, Vaughan suddenly slammed the brakes. Straight ahead, about 300 meters from us, a huge eland bull was walking from a meadow into some mopane. “Shoot that bull!” he said very sternly. “Weren’t we going to wait for the black bull to reappear?” I asked. “No, shoot that one!”. Quickly we jumped out of the truck, grabbed sticks and the 7x64 and started stalking via the left to get closer. Mlillo stayed behind in the Land Cruiser. The bull had not noticed us yet, and was just quietly going further and further into the bush, feeding from time to time on the mopane leaves.

We could not see him anymore, so we gave chase and just saw him moving into some rocky ravine, still unaware of us and feeding from time to time. Jumping from one rock to the next, keeping the high ground, on the top of the ravine, we tried to get as close as possible without making any small rocks roll down the rocky incline. Finally, we caught up with the bull, still feeding on the dry mopane leaves. Although it would seem that these dry leaves are nothing more than lifeless, and unnourishing dry paper, dried mopane leaves actually keep about 40% of their protein content. This is how antelopes can survive the long dry season, when all other sources of protein are scarce.

We saw him appear in a small open spot, about 70 meters from us and 10 meters down, quartering away. With the rifle on the sticks, I put my crosshairs relatively high, to compensate for shooting downwards, and just behind the last ribs. The 7mm barked and we heard a good crack reverberating back to us on top of the ravine. The bull showed a good reaction to the shot, but made a jolt just out of our line of sight again. Jumping and sliding down the rocks we went. Vaughan was obviously in the lead, as that man could jump on rocks, just like the Jameson’s Red Rock Rabbit that are found on Marshland’s. He was a few dozen meters ahead of me and he suddenly turned around, letting out a war cry and giving the thumbs’ up. The bull had gone only 25m and had collapsed.

And what a bull it was, I had not had the time to give him a good look from the truck, as I still had the black ghost in front of my mind. Gnarly twisted horns, broomed tips, a big dark coloured mafushwa or mop on his head and due to his old age and the omnipresent ticks, his ears had been eaten completely away. Technically the ears had died off, due to the lack of blood circulation, because the ticks were sucking up all the blood. He also had an old wound on his right front leg. We thought for a few moments that it might be an exit wound and it was the same bull we had hunted before, but nothing else added up. As there was no entry wound, the only possible explanation would be a wound from fighting. Vaughan and I were both ecstatic with this Mhofu. What a grand old bull!

We called over the radio that the zebra hunt was over for today and for everyone to come meet us at the location of the eland bull to help with the recovery. The weather over Marshlands had turned overcast and the first big rain for Marshlands was incoming. Some pictures later and with about 10 men, we were pushing and pulling the bull into the bed of the Land Cruiser. Not an easy feat with an 600-900 kg animal. Quickly we returned to camp and we had just time to hang the eland from its hind legs at the skinning shed, before the storm arrived.

The first mayor storm of the rain season was about to hit. The dining place, open on one side, was where we were having a late lunch of spaghetti, while the wind picked up. It started to get more and more severe, with the first rain drops flying in horizontally onto the table. The gusts of wind made the temperature drop by 15 degrees in a few minutes and started to blow the pictures off the walls. The table ware, chairs and stuff lying around started to get blown over, it was chaos. With more water than sauce in our plates, we had to go shelter in the kitchen area, behind the dining room, while the heavens broke open and rain flooded everything. The roar of the storm even made speaking difficult at times.

In the aftermath, surveying the damage, we saw that the top of the hut that I was sleeping in, had blown off, causing a few leaks. With the help of Cecilia, the cleaning lady, we quickly brought my room back in order and I had to wipe down the .416 Rigby from the rain that had drenched it. But all was well in the end. After showers and some hot chocolate to warm up, we said our goodbye’s to Ian, who had to rejoin his family for the remainder of his holiday in Zimbabwe.

We had a quite evening, while it continued to be overcast, but the wind had died. With the rain having arrived, so did the insects. So much were the insects attracted to the lights of the dining area that we had to shut off all the lights, apart from one light bulb a bit further away from us. Otherwise insects would literally be raining on top of us, the dining table and into our plates. I don’t mind crunchy food, but draw a line when it is still crawling around.

For dinner, we were having the famous dish of “puffadder”, which consists of taking the large intestine of an eland, after being cleaned of course, filling it with chunks of fillet, heart, liver and kidneys, as well as some cubes of fat. Then roasting on a braai the whole sausage until all the fat had melted around the meats and cooked everything. This is an absolute delicacy of a meal, and I wish we could have had this many more evenings.

 

[Frederik]

I would be happy to dig into that puffadder nice eland.

 

[VertigoBE]

Day 8 – 28/10/2022 – Disco Fever, Bandits and Construction Work​

The next morning, we were back at it, getting up around 5:00. We were going to be hunting for leopard bait. Zebra, Mbizi in Shona, still being the primary target. We quickly got on the tracks of another herd of zebra, so we started to run after them, hiking up and down the kopjes to get an angle on them. However, they kept on winding us and trotting off again. We left Garth and Seda on one kopje, in order to spot the herd for us, while we walked over to the next kopje. It was a clean, beautiful sunny morning. With the sky finally cleared of all the smoke and dust that we had been walking through from the first days.

We came to the top of the next kopje, when the radio crackled with Garth’s voice, saying the herd was moving our way and would be breaking the bush cover to come into an open area just in front of us. Upon direction of Vaughan, I went down on my belly on a particularly large boulder, trying to steady my 7mm and myself on it. Just then the herd broke cover and came in a trot towards us, with the stallion in the lead. As we never had much luck chasing zebra, I was under the impression that Vaughan wanted me to take a shot as soon as I would be comfortable. Looking through the superb Swarovski Z6i 1.7-10x42, aiming about 40m lower and 100m away, I took a shot at the slowly but steadily trotting stallion, slightly quartering to.

A good hit, but he didn’t go down just yet. With the boom the whole herd had picked up speed again, but we could clearly see that the stallion was sick, not keeping pace with the others and starting to split off. “Give him another one”, Vaughan said, so another shot rang out, this time broadside. He again sped up for a few meters to come to a standstill, facing away. Vaughan told me to put one up his behind, and I tried to break a bone shooting him from behind. He was not really running anywhere anymore, so a final shot strongly quartering away at around 150m brought him down once and for all.

Although the first shot probably would have done the trick in the end, Vaughan was worried that we would have to spend too much time tracking him, especially once he would reach cover. As long as he was standing, I was having a clear line of sight and felt comfortable, I should just keep shooting, he told me afterwards. He was surprised by my first shot though, as he had read the animals to be slowing down and come to a standstill and thought I would shoot once they would be standing still. In any case all good in the end.

Trying to get off the boulder, I had to give my rifle to Mlillo, before I could get off of it. We slid down the kopje and walked over and found out that the first hit was in the lungs, with the entry in the black of a stripe. Which is why we could not see where I had hit him. The RWS Kegelspitz bullets that I was using in the 7x64, would not penetrate to the other side either, stopping just under the skin. Meaning that for an animal to succumb from blood loss alone, would take some time.

We took a few pictures and then dug two holes in the ground, at the width of the rear wheels of the Land Cruiser, just next to the zebra. This allowed the Cruiser to back up into those holes, and have the truck bed much lower so it would be easier to load the stallion up. Then off to the skinning shed, to get the hide off and have him quartered for the bait. I also asked them to keep the 2 fighting teeth. Canines that the stallions have for fighting purposes. Then a quick lunch and off we were, to go put up some bait!

We had a total of 4 quarters from the zebra, as well as half an impala still from two days ago, so we would go out to set up 5 bait sites to begin with. If we would get to hunt some more, we could set up more bait.

The first bait would be hung in a corner of Marshlands, where the recent fires had not reached, so there was still a lot of cover, and where there were some nice kopjes and cliff faces that should make for good leopard habitat. The other 4 would be hung in the conservancy proper.

While driving to the first bait location, with a truck full of meat and tools to construct bait locations and prepare the terrain for a possible blind, we saw to our front left in the distance 2 men walking with dogs. As soon as they saw the truck they started running and Vaughan yelled “Poachers! Catch them!”. Garth was the first one off the truck. In his youth he used to play number 8 in rugby and this clearly showed in his muscular physique. These days, he is of a bit more robust nature, but the rugby background is not far, so seeing him go full throttle after them, is a sight to behold. Pity the man that would get tackled by him.

The car hadn't come to a full stop and so were Junior and Seda following suit, sprinting after the poachers. Vaughan yelled after the three “100 bucks for who catches them!”. He swiftly spun the Land Cruiser around on the sand road and raced back to cut them off on the other side of the block. We had driven to the northern border of Marshland’s and this block was bordering on the highway. The point where we had seen the men, was about 1/3rd in to the road that ran parallel to the highway. As the men had run into the block, in the direction of the highway, we would try to cut them off on the other side.

Having been used to fast driving the past few days, Vaughan still managed to kick it up a notch and drove his Land Cruiser like a true Colin McRae, flying over the sandy roads to the opposite corner, where the road meets the highway. Mid-way he slammed the brakes and told Mlillo to get out and keep a lookout if they would come his way and then we sped on. Reaching the highway, Vaughan drove for a few hundred meters, and after us both getting out, asked me to keep my bino’s trained to the front, while he ran back to the corner, so he could see Mlillo from afar and myself and keep in visual range of two sides of the block. On the highway side, the block was not particularly straight, with a large bend about 400 meters away, so I crossed the highway to the other side, in order to have a better angle on the rest of the block.

What seemed like a long time, but was probably only a few minutes, I heard Vaughan yelling behind me to get back to the truck. Both of us breaking into a dead sprint to the Cruiser. Garth and the others had caught one and could use some assistance, as he had turned violent towards Junior. Speeding again back to where we had originally seen the poachers, we just stopped for a few seconds mid-way to pick up Mlillo. Vaughan had a smile on his face when he saw him. Mlillo is a 48-year-old proud man of stoic nature, and seeing that he had taken off his vest to prepare for physical activity had Vaughan chuckling. Everyone at the Marshlands camp it seemed, shared the same feelings for poachers.

Driving back to the same location where we had first spotted them, we used some bird calls to guide Garth and the others back to the truck. The poacher that they had caught, after running in the direction of the highway, had double-backed, crossed the road from where we had spotted them and went into the block on the right. Garth, Seda and Junior were following him hot on his heels, so he tried to escape by trying to get through a barbed-wire cattle fence, where he got his shirt properly ripped off him, and sustained a few large bleeding gashes on his back.

Seeing that his escape route was not going to work, the poacher turned around to Junior, who was hot on his heels, grabbed a big stone and tried to bash Junior’s skull in with it. Luckily, Garth and Seda were not far behind, and the three of them managed to pin him down on the ground. As there was no rope in the neighbourhood, Garth removed the laces from his boots, and used it to tie the poacher’s hands behind his back.

It was a rather surly looking man, at the head of the 4-person procession, coming out of the woods in the direction of the truck. The trackers sat him down, and started to question the man in Shona. He quickly started talking, how he and his mate were just out looking for their cat. With their dogs. As excuses go, not the most imaginative. However, while we were milling about with the trackers trying to get more out of the man, we had a stroke of luck. Garth was off to the side, trying to have a look around the location where we had first spotted them, to see if they had dropped anything. In fact, they had. From the tall grass, Garth pulled two crude spears made from rebar steel with sharpened points. These would be used to stick antelopes that the dogs had bayed up.

These spears would now constitute the formal evidence, so pictures of the spears were taken, together with the poacher. We called up the Parks Ranger, who would deliver him to the nearby police station. After having seen the Parks Ranger arrive, he did start giving up the name of his mate, most likely in order to elicit some clemency. As the poacher’s bad luck would have it, there was a tough brigade of Zimbabwean police, called the "black boots", in the area, and they would be less gentle about the whole affair.

Once this whole business was settled, we resumed our drive to go place the first bait. There is a lot of thought that goes into selecting a good bait location. Vaughan and Garth explained it using a technique they called “Bait-Object-Blind”. The way it works is by first locating the “Object”. A river, a road, a clearing, an open field, anything that will have a leopard feel safe from that direction, as he can clearly see anything from afar.

A leopard can see about 7 times better in the dark than a human being. That, combined with their almost telescopic sight, like birds of prey, means that the most minor movement they can notice from a far distance away. The best protection against being spotted is then to keep the attention of the leopard away from your direction. If he feels safe from the direction you are sitting in, he should focus his eyesight and attention on closer bushes and possible threats.

After choosing the “Object”, the bait and the blind are constructed on opposite sides of the object. This way, the leopard will have a lower tendency to be looking in the direction of the blind, while he is at the bait.

For the bait site, Professional Hunters will mostly try to find a sturdy tree, from which to hang the bait. Each PH having their own technique, some hanging the bait very high, others very low, Vaughan definitely fell into the latter camp. Due to the area, there are very little hyena’s and no lions or any other predator with which a leopard would need to contend. As it is cattle country, the locals probably drove the lions away quite a while ago, while any hyena’s that dare to try their hand on the cattle, will see the carcass of their kill poisoned or snares set up by the locals.

When selecting the bait site, an eye is also kept as to the possible location for the blind. As mentioned on the opposite side of the “Object”. As it is hilly country, by preference Vaughan and Garth would try to find a way for the blind to be located higher than the bait. This gives an additional protection against being spotted by an incoming leopard early on, as well as provides a safer shot angle. Shooting down into the ground. Often multiple locations around the same Object would be tried, in order to find the perfect combination. The goal would be to have as much possible natural cover at the blind, requiring the least amount of brush to be cut between Blind and Bait, so as to not create a tunnel effect pointing straight to our faces sitting in the blind.

The bait would then be hung up, often but not always, with a branch underneath it that would allow only a leopard to stand on it and dictate the angle at which he can eat from the meat. Sitting in the blind this would then provide a perfect broad side shot at the vitals. Finally, some branches with leaves would be hung over the meat. This is not really to protect the meat against the all-seeing eyes of vultures, as the vulture population has been decimated in recent years, from having eaten from poisoned carcasses. Rather, these branches would protect the meat from direct sunlight and the heat, so the meat would not rot so quickly.

We repeated this selection process of “Bait-Object-Blind” four more times in the conservancy and communal areas. I tried to help out a bit, clearing out some brush with the typical African bush axe, but the trackers knew what they were doing and I was mostly in their way. By the time we setup the fifth bait, it was getting late and we headed back to Marshlands.

With the rains that had fallen in the past few days, insects had also started to come out of every nook and cranny. Giant swarms of winged termites had streamed out of their underground fortresses, rhinoceros beetles were roaring around, and all manner of stinging, biting and slithering critters were coming out of hiding. We gathered for sundowners in the main dining area, with as much of the artificial light shut off, so as to not attract too much creepers. While we were having a cold beer, suddenly Junior came limping up to Vaughan, holding in his hand a scorpion that he had trampled to death, while walking between the camp buildings. The critter had stung him on the upper foot and he was obviously in great pain, but brave as he was, he did not want to let us know. He just wanted to have Vaughan and Garth check online if it was a dangerous scorpion or not. They started looking up pictures of scorpions and comparing the one in the trembling hand of Junior with an online database. Hopefully it would not be a dangerous one, as we were about 1.5hours from the nearest hospital and in Zimbabwe it is never certain they would have any anti-venom available anyway. While they were researching, Vaughan asked if I had any pain killers and anti-inflammatory medication. I had some Ibuprofen on hand that I had been using to calm my knees in the first days. After getting it, Vaughan gave Junior two 400mg tablets and told him to come see them in the morning for two more. In the meantime, Garth and Vaughan had concluded that it was not a dangerous one, and it was not a life-threatening injury. It would be very painful, the swelling would remain for a few hours, but nothing much worse and there was nothing else to be done but to dull the pain and reduce the swelling with the Ibuprofen.

We had a hasty dinner by candle light, with again swarms of insects all around us, attracted to any light source and we were off to bed. After getting to my lodge, I had a shower and changed into my sleeping wear and had the habit of having a few quiet minutes, sitting on my porch and having a last smoke. Looking up at the sky full of stars, is how I like to end my evening. While doing so, I heard something moving about in front of me. A rabbit was sitting only 5 meters away looking at me. After a few minutes it ran off. A minute or two later, I heard something slithering to my right side. I looked down from my chair, and just as my eyes could make out the form in the dark, it stopped moving about 50cm away from me. There was a about a 1.5-meter-long green-brown snake sliding itself around a support pillar of the lodge, just next to my naked feet. Being all enthusiastic about seeing a snake from close by, I whipped out my iPhone to try and get some pictures of it. Fumbling with the flash setting, the snake acted as if it was caught and started to move away.

Not fully appreciating what had just happened, I sent a picture of the snake to Vaughan. The next day he identified it as a small spitting cobra. Next time I should be reaching for a long stick or a heavy boot, instead of a camera!

Day 9 - 29/10/2022 – Hattrick​

Today would be the first of our bait check tours and the anticipation was high as Vaughan and Garth were aware of 3 big male leopards operating in the areas we had baited. However, on this first tour, no tracks, no sign of anything. Using a mixture of blood, guts, stomach content and faeces, a soup was prepared that would be used to provide each bait site with a short blood trail. What the reason was that the blood trail was only placed the day after hanging the baits, I do not know. I’ll need to ask Vaughan and Garth about the rationale behind this.

Vaughan and Garth did not believe in making very long blood drags, instead counting on a very strong smelling and short trail. This should make it easy for a leopard to find the bait, before losing interest in a too long blood trail.

While we were checking one of the last baits on our route, we came upon a group of baboons that were crossing the road. The big dog was staying behind, looking at us, while the rest of the group scurried over the sandy track. Hunting baboons, which are considered pests in Africa, is always good sport, so I jumped off the truck, using the open front door as a support, and let a 7mm bullet fly. Direct hit on the chest and he was down. It is not a favourite of a leopard, but an extra bait is an extra bait. We strung him up, upside down, from a nearby tree, in view of the road, so it would be easy to check on him. Baptizing him “Hanging George”, we went on our way.

After all baits had been checked and the blood trail added, we drove back from the communal areas to camp, for lunch and a siesta. We were all still fatigued from the proceedings the days before. After some rest, we decided to pile into the Land Cruiser and do a drive around Marshlands, to see if we could find any other disco donkeys for bait. While driving through some particularly thick bush, we came upon a female Kori Bustard. Bustards are some of the largest African birds that can still fly. They have their nests on the ground however, so seeing a female walking around and checking us out, probably meant a nest was in the neighbourhood.

Continuing on, with the sky turning redder as the sun started its descent for the day, we suddenly spotted a klipspringer on a kopje about 200 meters away. A klipspringer is a very peculiar little antelope, weighing only about 10-15kg and being only about 50cm tall. As their name suggests, they love being on rocks and cliffs, jumping from stone to stone. Their coat is also a bit different. While the colours are a simple sandy reddish brown with hints of grey and yellow, the hairs are hollow. These hollow hairs help with insulation on icy cold nights, as well as protects the animal against falls, although these are rare for such a surefooted animal as a klipspringer.

As soon as Vaughan had established that this klipspringer was a shooter, I got out of the cruiser, and Garth handed me the 7x64, while Vaughan setup the sticks. Then came the most embarrassing 10 minutes of the trip, with me fumbling around with the sticks. Each time I tried to get a solid rest to aim at the tiny klipspringer, from about 150m, one of the legs of the shooting sticks would pop out and I would basically be on an awkward bipod.

After many expletives from my side, with Vaughan most likely facepalming himself and thinking “bloody hell get on with it!”, I finally got setup nice and solid and put the crosshairs on the back rib of the klipspringer, who was quartering to us. He still felt safe on his perch in the sun, as he would be able to see us approaching from far away. As the crosshairs settled, I gently pressed the trigger and the 7mm barked.

On such a small animal, the 7x64, with the soft lead bullets, was a bit overkill and the results were quite explosive. A full mount would no longer be possible. But what a beautiful little antelope he was!

A few pictures later, and off we were to see what else the bush had to offer on this magnificent sunny African evening. Leaving the Land Cruiser behind, we hiked up a kopje to have a better look around and to enjoy a spectacular African sunset. While on top of the kopje, Vaughan spotted a group of Zebra about a kilometre away. Joining this herd of zebra was also a nice warthog. While Vaughan would keep overwatch, Garth and I slid down from the kopje and began the short hike across the burnt bush in their direction. Depending on the situation when we arrived there, we would either go for the zebra for bait, or for the warthog.

We moved from bush to bush and finally came to a small ravine. The animals we had spotted were on the other side. We gently tried to get down to the ravine, trying not to have too many rocks falling from under our feet and then climbed up the other side. While climbing up and with the first flatter parts coming into sight, we spooked a couple of duiker. Garth asked me if I wanted to go for a good duiker instead but they ran off before his question was completely out of his mouth. We pressed on, ever slower, in the direction of where we thought the zebra herd would be, until they suddenly came into sight. We had to go a bit further though to get on flatter ground, so the sticks could be set up. A bit more fumbling trying to get stable, while the stallion was looking straight at us, heavily quartering-to. I put the cross hairs on the right side of the stallion’s chest, almost on his shoulder and my shot rang out. We could immediately see bright red heart blood spurting out and after having run a full circle of about 10 meters across, he piled up within 10 seconds. With the sun setting on the horizon behind us, Garth managed to takes some amazing pictures. Then getting the truck in and loading up. We were all in a festive mood, having seen plenty of animals that day, and connected on three species over the course of the day! Now that we had more bait, as well as some extra steaks from the zebra for our dinner’s and lunches, we would be able to put even more bait sites up.

Arriving back at the lodge and dropping the klipspringer and the zebra off at the skinning shed, we gathered around the dinner table for excellent eland schnitzels. A camp favourite!

 

[Rare Breed]

Wow the wood on your 7x64 is stunning!!! It looks like Tiger Eye

 

[Rare Breed]

When I hunted with Lou Hallemore in April he taught me the same B.O.B factor for hunting leopard he put in his have to read expertise on hunting leopard, Chui!

 

[Frederik]

Nice going on the bait animals and just having good fun hunting.

 

[VertigoBE]

Day 10 – 30/10/2022 – “Bere”​

We woke up around 6:00. No point in waking up earlier, as we did not want to scare off a leopard still on the bait, while we went and checked the site out. With a trunk full of zebra again, we would set up four more bait sites. First, we checked the Marshland corner bait site, where nothing was found. The weather was hot and humid due to the recent rains, but the baits had not started smelling much. Each existing bait site we visited, received a good amount of “soup”. All the bait sites we had set up two days before, showed no sign of any activity. We set up 4 more, with one in the Steakfonteyn farm.

After checking the three other original bait sites and saying hi to “Hanging George”, we set out to put four more baits up. The last bait we set up in a beautiful green river-like area. There were 2-meter-high reeds everywhere, and if it were a bit swampier, one might expect to encounter hippo, waterbuck, and other more aquatic species. These however do not occur in those communal lands. When arriving to that location there was another memorable moment, albeit not a very pleasant one. We had stopped at a cattle gate, to open it and get through, and right in front of us was a baby playing in the rubbish from a dump. He must not have been much older than my daughter, and it pained me to see a child just being left at a dump site, playing with some plastic rubbish, with only a mongrel dog in sight to keep watch. As our truck had stopped, his older brother (maybe 5yo) came out from some bushes a few 100m away. We are lucky in Europe.

Around 11:00 we had the last bait hung up and we set out for Marshlands again. While only a few minutes away from the lodge, a big warthog was spotted. We all got so excited about seeing those big tusks, that getting the 7x64 from the scabbard in the back of the truck went a bit strenuous. After a bit of a struggle, we were ready to give chase and we rapidly got on the pig’s tracks. However, with the recent rains, the damp ground was much harder and did not leave as much of a print as before. So, we asked one of the trackers to run back to the truck and get the three Jack Russels, Zoe, Dingy, and Kanka.

The three of them had been on the truck with us every single day and this was their first opportunity on this trip to show us what they are capable of. Once they were set on the track, Vaughan unleashed them and they sped off like lighting. We tried to catch up as much as possible until we came to a small dry river bed, where the dogs had lost the spoor and were mulling about.

With the lead tracker Mlillo in front, we pressed on, albeit at a much slower pace, but to no avail. However, only 2 of the 3 dogs were back with us. Kanka had disappeared somewhere and could not be seen. While we were following the tracking skills of Mlillo, we suddenly heard faint yipping in the distance and we all started to sprint in the direction of the sound of a dog that found its quarry. Closer and closer we ran over the ashen ground, while the weather had turned overcast again, with more rain not far off. While I was trying to keep up with Garth and Vaughan, Vaughan’s radio crackled. It was Paradzai calling in from the lodge, asking if it was normal that a dog was chasing and harassing some giraffes. We slowed down and all doubled down from laughter. Kanka, while having lost the spoor of the warthog, must have switched over to the trail of a herd of giraffes and started following that. Although we could not see the scene for ourselves, it must have been quite comical to see the group of giraffes being chased by such a small dog.

The mood was good and we walked back to the truck, to drive the last kilometre back to camp. Over lunch, plans were made and Vaughan and Garth wanted to take me that evening on a hyena night-hunt. After lunch, we therefore had a bit of rest and got ready to leave around 16:00 for about a 2-hour drive to a place that had seen quite a few livestock losses in the past year. After the rain, the weather got much better and the sky was cleared of all clouds, so the drive over there was very nice in the setting African sun. We passed many villages along the way, where people were also finishing up their working day and were starting to gather around for the evening’s dinner. We went to another corner of the conservancy that we had not visited before, very close to the Botswana border. Once we had left the last villages behind us, we had another hour of high-speed driving still ahead of us, with an endless sea of mopane spreading in all directions around us. Not much rain had fallen here yet, so everything still looked parched and dead.

While driving in that desolate section of the conservancy, we came upon some elephant spoor. Broken branches, trees pushed over, the usual mayhem of an elephant track. However, the dung looked about a day or two old and Vaughan speculated that this was perhaps the same group we had hunted. They were now hightailing it towards Botswana, leaving a path of destruction in their wake.

We got to the place Vaughan had in mind around 18:30, just as the sun had fully set. Before we would start calling, we got a fire started and got dinner going. On the braai tonight there would be klipspringer steak. A true delicacy, as this antelope loves to eat all kinds of little herbs, flowers, fruits, and berries, so the meat is very tasty.

As we would be hunting in the darkness of the night, we would be using a spotlight and a big audio setup to call in the hyenas if there were any in the vicinity. Vaughan, Garth, and I climbed in the back of the Land Cruiser, with Seda driving slowly. Vaughan and Garth on each side of me, with Garth using a thermal scope to spot anything moving and Vaughan in charge of tonight’s playlist. We would drive a few 100 meters and then stop, have a few minutes of calling, and if nothing would show, we would continue on.

Due to all the bush around us, the spotlights did not reach very far, as all the light reflected on the branches. We came to a clearing and soon the night was again filled with the sounds of animals in distress. Lamb’s bleating, pig’s squealing, occasionally interspersed with howling hyena laughter. Vaughan kept the spotlight off, until such moment as Garth would spot something and could direct Vaughan on where to point the spotlight too. Also giving me some preparation to be ready behind the rifle.

One minute we were all looking around, starting to get bored and the next minute Garth whispered excitedly that there was a big hyena only 50 meters in front of us. The bush had been so thick that not even the thermal managed to pick up a trace of body heat and had been fooled until the last second. Vaughan switched on the red-colored spotlight, but off he ran. Garth could tell that the hyena was not running off, but would just run a few meters behind some cover, and then come out again. We did this game of hide and seek at least a dozen times with this spotted hyena, while it circled back and forth around the truck. Each time I had a lot of difficulty finding him in the scope or was not certain enough of my shot on the briskly moving hyena.

At one point the stars aligned however and the hyena stepped into the spotlight one last time. The 7mm spit fire and I hit him high, into the spine. Down he went like a bag of bricks, but he was not dead just yet. With his hind legs paralyzed, he tried to move around on his front legs, not giving up. Gnarling and snarling at us as we approached. As we were only about 5 meters from him, it would not be wise to shoot him again with the 7x64 on the sandy underground, for fear of ricochets. Vaughan tried to come up to him, to put a .22 hollow point into its chest, when suddenly the hyena lurched forward with his back legs dangling behind and clamped his vise-like jaw onto the suppressor. We all jumped back a meter and then Vaughan managed to put a finishing shot in the animal.

Before we took the pictures, we also checked if it wasn’t a female hyena, as it was rather big. Female spotted hyenas are larger than male spotted hyenas. Often females are confused for males, as both sexes have nipples, and the females have an enlarged clitoris with their vulva resembling a ball sack. The easiest way to distinguish between a male and a female is by counting the nipples. Females have four of them, while males have only two. We found only two nipples, so it was a male after all.

Some quick pictures, while being assaulted by all kinds of flying insects, and off we went back to camp to catch some sleep.

Day 11 – 31/10/2022 – Swimming in the rain​

Wakeup call at 6:00 and although the morning started great, we drove away from the camp under a very overcast sky to check bait. It was a rather silent drive, with everyone lost in their thoughts. The baits showed no indication of any activity. Not one leopard pug mark, male or female, nor hyena or even honey badgers, caracal, or jackals. Nothing seemed to be interested in our 10 baits. This was the 4th day that we had baits hanging out and the utter lack of interest was a bit depressing. The awful weather was not helping our moods either.

After the last of the ten baits was checked, with not one being very smelly due to the cooler weather, we returned to the lodge and had an eland schnitzel. For the afternoon, trying to find something fun to do, and as we had been checking the surroundings for any pigs in the past day, we decided to go on a bush pig hunt. That morning, Paradzai had spotted tracks leading into some rocky kopjes, so we were going to try to surprise them in their den. It looked like rain was approaching, so likely the pigs would be holed up somewhere where we could get the upper hand.

As we would be expecting quite close and dynamic shots in heavy brush, we all took our scopes off and we would use only our iron’s. Garth took his 30-06, and removed his scope, Vaughan took his Blaser R8 without irons, removed the glass anyway, and tried if he would be able to swing it and hit without any aiming aids, for short distances. I took off the Swarovski scope from the 7mm. It was most likely a funny sight for an outsider, seeing all three of us swinging, trying the irons (or not) in the common dining area, and getting geared up for a bush pig hunt. On the pigs, it was a common understanding that this would not be as PH and client, but rather all three of us doing the hunting. Just having some fun all together hunting.

After a short ride with the truck to get a bit closer, we started walking in the direction of the kopjes where we suspected the bush pigs to have their den. While barely having walked a few hundred meters, I spotted a small antelope that Vaughan recognized as a duiker and a shooter. I quickly took my scope from the backpack and clicked the claw mounts back onto the rifle. As it had seen us, it ran off for a bit, while we tried to stalk closer. The male had stopped running and was looking back at us, feeling safe with all the dense bush between us, but this was a miscalculation on his part. The 7x64 spoke and down he went. Unfortunately, another “not full mount”, as the bullet had done some severe damage. A few pictures later and after having removed my scope, we continued with the dogs and the trackers to the foot of the kopjes.

As we arrived at the kopjes, we felt the first drops of rain fall on us. With everything already being a bit moist from the rains from the past days, everything became even more slippier by the minute. By the time we got to the top, the few drops of rain had changed into a real deluge and it was all we could do but to shelter under an overhanging rock, while the heavens opened above us. So much rainfall that we could no longer talk about drops falling, but it was streaming down. It is an image as clear as day in my mind. Vaughan, Garth and I, looking like drowned cats, rifles in our hands, trying to shelter under that overhanging rock and getting into bursts of roaring laughter telling jokes.

We got completely soaked, rifles and all, and had a bit of banter while hoping for the storm to subside. Joking that if @rookhawk could have seen this beautiful 7x64 getting completely drenched with no chance to get some care soon, he might have had a heart attack.

At some point it looked like the rain was about to let up, so we decided to continue on the track that had mostly washed away anyway. Some water was not going to stop us and the rain would not melt us. However, this was only a bait and switch from the weather gods, as we had barely made it 50 meters from our hidey hole, sliding on the mud, or the rain fell with renewed vengeance on our heads. We had to yell to keep in contact with the others, as some had started looking for cover again. Visibility was strongly reduced and we had to call the hunt off. It was raining so hard, that we could not even reach the truck over the walkie-talkie anymore. With Vaughan getting angry that no one was heeding his calls for a pickup, we just plowed on through the rain and the mud, back to camp. As the rain did not seem to let off for the remainder of the day, we had some hot chocolate, heated on the fire, as the power was off again. We shivered around the dining area before calling it an early day and going off to bed for some reading.

Day 12 – 1/11/2022 – Shopping and Collett’s​

We woke up around 6:00 to another sky full of grey again and it looked like it was going to drizzle for the rest of the day. We can’t count the number of times we told each other how lucky we were to have had a shot at an elephant in the first few days of the safari, just before the rains arrived.

But first bait-check again. As the weather was not lending itself to leisurely spending outside in comfort, we sped through the different bait sites to check for any kind of traces. With each negative site we got, the mood was getting more and more grim as well. It was now the 5th day of baiting and still no sign of any kitty cat. Or anything else for that matter. Only “hanging George” had seen his front half eaten away by a lone brown hyena.

The combination of the cold weather, did not allow for the meat to properly rot and give a good scent. Water was everywhere due to the rains and finally, it being the moment in the year when all the cows were dropping calves, meant that the leopards simply had no reason to go out looking far for food and water and even less to interest themselves for some meat hanging in a tree. The weather, the water, and the calves were just not the right combination to hunt leopard over bait this time of year.

Getting back to camp, the ride was silent with everyone lost in their thoughts. We had a zebra steak lunch to improve our spirits. While having lunch and seeing that the weather was not likely to get much better for the rest of the day, meaning animals would not be moving and preferring to stay in cover, I suggested another activity. With the end of my 17-day safari now starting to approach, I proposed to go into town. To Bulawayo, to do some shopping and visit with the chosen taxidermist Collett’s. Garth volunteered to be my driver as he had some business to take care of as well with his truck, while Vaughan would stay back in camp.

Off we went, with our first stop being Collett’s to meet with Vince Pegg. He manages the taxidermy studio of Collett’s in Bulawayo. Vince, who natively is from New Zealand, was a most charming and friendly character. Always helpful with suggestions, options, and possibilities, while underlining that they can create anything. One of the ideas I had for the main attraction of this safari, was to have the 4 elephant soles framed behind glass on white canvas, with the recovered .416 bullet in the middle. Below the soles, a bronze plaque, with an inscription reading:

“Zimbabwe - Matabele Land - Ingwizi Conservancy;

25th of October 2022; 50 year old bull - 15-meter quartering-to brain shot - .416 Rigby;

Vaughan - Garth - xxxxxxxxxxx”​

This piece would allow one to admire and respect the unique “thumbprint” that is the sole of an old elephant. Vince was very enthusiastic about this idea, saying he had never heard of this before and that it should be one-of-a-kind. For the tusks, I chose to go for simple wood cubes as basis. For the rest of the skin, apart from some belts and guncases, I had in mind to have them provide me with 16 squares to be used on 8 chairs for my dining room.

The other question I had was concerning the Eland, if it would be possible to make a shoulder mount pedestal out of it with a good turn in it, in order to save space. My wife and I currently own only a small townhouse and do not have a lot of space for these big mounts. Before going on more safaris we’ll have to invest in a larger house!

After finishing up with Vince, we went over to the world-famous Courteney Boot factory, where I ordered a second pair of Courteney Selous, to be made from my own elephant skin, as well as a pair of vellies in simple buffalo leather for everyday use. Then we went for a quick stop at TAG Safari Clothing to pick up some extra shorts. One of the 3 pairs of shorts I had brought, had gone missing, while a second one had ripped apart.

We then had a quick bite at The Orange Elephant, discussing Garth’s project for vintage photo safaris and guiding in the Victoria Falls area. Before setting on the road back, we made a stop at a local garage to talk about some work that needed to be done on Garth’s truck, where Garth had encountered and discussed with a competitor PH, Wayne van den Bergh. I had not had the chance to meet with Wayne, as I had been waiting in the truck while Garth was inside. Then we made back for camp, after picking up some supplies in a store and a cooler box from Vaughan’s house, meeting Vaughan’s wife for the first time. While at the store I also picked up some biltong, but was sad when only beef biltong was available. There was such little interest in game meat that biltong was not seen in the stores. Seeing as the weather was still awful when we drove back, this was a well-spent afternoon.