Rubberhead
AH fanatic
- Joined
- Apr 24, 2021
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- 596
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- Location
- South Carolina
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- Hunted
- South Carolina, South Africa
When I decided to call this post “African Heart Shot” I did an internet search on the phrase to see if I was coining a new term or not. Google only shows one other time in the whole history of the Internet Universe where the term was used. A guy screen-named “Climate17” posting on another forum on June 9, 2013, in response to a thread about a gut-shot zebra wrote, “I guess that's what qualifies as an African heart shot!”
I don’t mean for my use of the term to be that derogatory - quite the opposite actually. It really started in my brain as a pun derived from the often used phrase, especially by Craig Boddington, “Texas Heart Shot” meaning a shot taken from directly behind an animal hoping the bullet will pass through the soft tissues of the innards and hit the heart. In my mind an “African Heart Shot” is that perfect broadside shot going straight up from the rear of the front leg for a third of the animal’s body. The "Africa" part come from a belief that every PH would want every client to always take an African Heart Shot.
In planning for my first Africa trip, I decided to take an African Heart Shot, in my case, on a Wednesday evening whitetail. It may surprise some but I usually shoot for the high shoulder. In something of a contrast, my dad, is a neck shooter. Dad is a committed deer hunter and a dedicated rifleman while I’m mostly a duck hunter. We shoot for different spots but for the same results, a DRT (“Dead Right There”) whitetail, because we live in the south.
Our woods are thick. We can’t see our feet and it’s usually too hot and wet to wear snake boots or chaps. The few places that are open enough to follow a blood trail are either seasonally flooded or near to permanent water so even a good blood trail can disappear with little hope of finding the floating whitetail that might have left it. I love were I grew up but I sometimes envy hunters from the north with their open woods or from the west where game can be watched for more than three steps after a shot. I knew Wednesday’s woods were thick but it’s been dry so I started the crosshairs on the back of the deer’s right from leg and worked up from there stopping when I eyeballed about one third of the deer’s thickness. I imagined away the branched antlers and replaced them with spiral horns before calmly squeezing the trigger.
The deer’s only reaction was to wheel back where he came from. With one-and-a-half steps he disappeared into a wall of gum saplings and brambles. I held my breath for a moment while listening for a crash and the brush-bucking death throes. Buck fever hit me before I could climb down from my stand. I took deep breath to replace the one I missed and to steady myself so I didn’t fall down the ladder. Safely on the ground I went to where I last saw the deer.
Bloodtrailing in the Southeast 101 – every November gum and bramble leaf looks like it has been smeared with blood so I quickly found what I thought might have been deer blood on a bramble leaf and rubbed it with my right thumb. It was just Autumn that was splashed on the leaf but I made things harder on myself by blooding my finger on the thorns that run the length of the vein on the backside of the leaf. Now everything I touch has a smear of blood on it…Ugh…
I did find some deer blood, luckily on some gum leaves so I knew I hadn’t missed. I literally waded through the first layer of briers to try to re-find the next spots of blood and that’s when it hit me. We’re in the middle of the rut and I could easily smell my deer. With no one to help look for blood and losing light quickly I put my nose into the wind and barreled through the brush. I almost tripped on the deer. I wish I had had the presence of mind to snap a picture of where the deer lay dead just 20 yards from where I shot him but invisible from more than about three feet away. I briefly fought a bramble bush that had claimed ownership of the deer’s antlers. I couldn’t free them from the tangled mess so, in frustration, I just started dragging. 8½ hardened points shredded brier thorns as my load finally lightened as I begun pulling the deer through the wake I myself was leaving in the gums and briers. In a few labored steps I got him to the opening where it all started.
Breathing heavily, I bothered to thank the Lord for a beautiful evening and make something of a loose promise to save the next African Heart Shot for Africa.
Sorry this was about the best photo I had...it was getting dark and I didn't have a "good" camera - just a cheap cell phone...you can see the shot just behind the front leg and about a third of the way up the body.
I don’t mean for my use of the term to be that derogatory - quite the opposite actually. It really started in my brain as a pun derived from the often used phrase, especially by Craig Boddington, “Texas Heart Shot” meaning a shot taken from directly behind an animal hoping the bullet will pass through the soft tissues of the innards and hit the heart. In my mind an “African Heart Shot” is that perfect broadside shot going straight up from the rear of the front leg for a third of the animal’s body. The "Africa" part come from a belief that every PH would want every client to always take an African Heart Shot.
In planning for my first Africa trip, I decided to take an African Heart Shot, in my case, on a Wednesday evening whitetail. It may surprise some but I usually shoot for the high shoulder. In something of a contrast, my dad, is a neck shooter. Dad is a committed deer hunter and a dedicated rifleman while I’m mostly a duck hunter. We shoot for different spots but for the same results, a DRT (“Dead Right There”) whitetail, because we live in the south.
Our woods are thick. We can’t see our feet and it’s usually too hot and wet to wear snake boots or chaps. The few places that are open enough to follow a blood trail are either seasonally flooded or near to permanent water so even a good blood trail can disappear with little hope of finding the floating whitetail that might have left it. I love were I grew up but I sometimes envy hunters from the north with their open woods or from the west where game can be watched for more than three steps after a shot. I knew Wednesday’s woods were thick but it’s been dry so I started the crosshairs on the back of the deer’s right from leg and worked up from there stopping when I eyeballed about one third of the deer’s thickness. I imagined away the branched antlers and replaced them with spiral horns before calmly squeezing the trigger.
The deer’s only reaction was to wheel back where he came from. With one-and-a-half steps he disappeared into a wall of gum saplings and brambles. I held my breath for a moment while listening for a crash and the brush-bucking death throes. Buck fever hit me before I could climb down from my stand. I took deep breath to replace the one I missed and to steady myself so I didn’t fall down the ladder. Safely on the ground I went to where I last saw the deer.
Bloodtrailing in the Southeast 101 – every November gum and bramble leaf looks like it has been smeared with blood so I quickly found what I thought might have been deer blood on a bramble leaf and rubbed it with my right thumb. It was just Autumn that was splashed on the leaf but I made things harder on myself by blooding my finger on the thorns that run the length of the vein on the backside of the leaf. Now everything I touch has a smear of blood on it…Ugh…
I did find some deer blood, luckily on some gum leaves so I knew I hadn’t missed. I literally waded through the first layer of briers to try to re-find the next spots of blood and that’s when it hit me. We’re in the middle of the rut and I could easily smell my deer. With no one to help look for blood and losing light quickly I put my nose into the wind and barreled through the brush. I almost tripped on the deer. I wish I had had the presence of mind to snap a picture of where the deer lay dead just 20 yards from where I shot him but invisible from more than about three feet away. I briefly fought a bramble bush that had claimed ownership of the deer’s antlers. I couldn’t free them from the tangled mess so, in frustration, I just started dragging. 8½ hardened points shredded brier thorns as my load finally lightened as I begun pulling the deer through the wake I myself was leaving in the gums and briers. In a few labored steps I got him to the opening where it all started.
Breathing heavily, I bothered to thank the Lord for a beautiful evening and make something of a loose promise to save the next African Heart Shot for Africa.
Sorry this was about the best photo I had...it was getting dark and I didn't have a "good" camera - just a cheap cell phone...you can see the shot just behind the front leg and about a third of the way up the body.
