After almost an hour, we called for the bakkie. No luck so far, and we hadn’t seen any impala yet. We drove on, and after a while, we spotted some female impala. Glancing into the brush, we saw a nice male, but before we could turn off the bakkie, he bolted.
We drove further and saw a small group of springbok crossing a road. We stopped the bakkie to take a closer look. Tangini’s eyes widened. The first part of the group had crossed, but toward the back, there seemed to be a male. Tangini got really excited, saying, “Get ready!” and urged me to shoot. Somewhat flabbergasted, I looked at him and calmly said, “We’re in the bakkie, Tangini.” At the start of the hunt, I had discussed how I wanted to hunt: no shooting from the bakkie and at least 200 meters away from the vehicle. Hendrik immediately understood and smiled. Tangini jumped off the bakkie, I handed him the rifle, and I exited the vehicle.
Tangini grabbed the sticks and set them up next to the hood of the bakkie. Hendrik and I looked at each other and laughed. Tangini really wanted me to shoot, but we explained our approach again. Meanwhile, the male disappeared into the bush. Tangini was disappointed but quickly switched gears, and we pursued them. After ten minutes, it was clear the springbok were aware of us. They bolted, and we concluded they were gone. We let them go and called off the pursuit. Tangini was disappointed, saying it was a really big male. Well, that’s hunting, not just shooting. Hendrik agreed—we were here to hunt, not just to shoot.
We headed back to the bakkie. On the way, we saw some female impala and decided to follow them, hoping a male was nearby. We stalked them for about 20 minutes. Did I mention it was hot already?
We got closer and had a good look, but there was no male. To our left, there was an opening followed by a patch of open, sandy plain. We saw movement—a group of springbok, possibly the same group we’d pursued earlier. We sneaked closer. In the back was a large male. The distance was about 150 meters. We set up the sticks, and there was an small opening between some dead branches. First, some females passed, then a pause with no movement—the male was out of sight. It felt like an eternity, with sweat pouring down my forehead. Then the male appeared, but he was walking and didn’t stop. I decided to take a shot. Boom—he went down, but it seemed like a spine shot near the back. Did it deflect off some branches? We approached, and the springbok tried to get up. I took a second shot, hitting near the shoulder, and that was the end. We got closer, and Hendrik and Tangini were silent. When we reached it, the springbok let out its last breath and expired on the spot. This was a monster springbok—the biggest Hendrik had taken in his young career. We were thrilled with how it turned out. We took some pictures, had a quick cigarette break, and drank lots of water. A beautiful specimen.
We decided to find a shady spot to eat lunch. As we searched for shade, Tangini spotted a big impala male. Hendrik and I hadn’t seen him. Lunch was postponed for the moment. We exited the bakkie and tried to get a closer look. Opa drove the bakkie away. We stalked closer and were almost within shooting distance when my binoculars swung against my rifle, making a metallic sound that rang through the bush. Hendrik and Tangini looked at me, and I apologized. The impala heard the noise and walked away.
We decided to head to a side road, hoping they were still close and we could cut them off. In the dry bushveld, we spotted the impala again. They noticed we were pursuing them. We saw the big male, quartering away, staring at us. I could make the shot. I took a deep breath and slowly pulled the trigger. It seemed like a good shot. The impala dropped. We approached, and it was a good shot—blood was coming from its mouth. Shortly afterward, the magnificent animal expired. Two animals in quick succession—what a morning! It was already past lunchtime as we took some pictures. We carried the impala to a nearby road where we could load it into the bakkie. We headed to the farm to gut and skin the animals. There, Hendrik and I ate our lunch. I was sweating profusely. The meat went to the farmer and his employees. As I ate, I watched Tangini, Opa, and some farm staff skin the animals.
We prepared for the ride back to Omitara camp. It was almost 4:00 PM when we returned. I decided to call it a day. I had a quick chat with the two remaining German hunters, who said they were going on their last outing. I opted for a nap in the meantime.
In the evening, we had our last meal together and said farewell to the two German hunters—really nice guys. That evening, the rains finally arrived in Africa. Everyone was happy to see the rain; Namibia desperately needed it. After a few beers and the farewell, I turned in early.
To be continued...
