Report continued.......
We flew from Lexington to Cincinnati ,to Frankfurt Germany. After a 12 hour layover we flew ten hours to Johannesburg, got on a van and drove seven more hours to camp.
Everyone was in high spirits as we met our outfitter and his lovely wife ,sighted guns , ate dinner and went to bed.
On the first day of the hunt we walked, and walked and walked. Our tracker ( Lieutenant) led the way , followed by Christoff , my PH , then me and finally Betwell who is a tracker ,skinner ,and representative of the camp.
We were on the track of several bulls all day long ,but kept being betrayed by the wind.
The second day was the same. We got close , then the wind shifted. So we walked some more. I was glad I have a job that requires quite a bit of physical activity, because there is a LOT of walking in buffalo hunting.
On the third day of the hunt we could not find the tracks of the group of bulls we had been pursuing, but did find one good set of bull tracks which we began to follow. By “ we” I mean the tracker and PH as I was constantly somewhere between befuddled and amazed at their ability to decipher the sign I couldn’t even see.Around mid morning Chris said we were close.
The sticks went up! Chris said the buff was in range and saw us. He charged in our direction, turned and bolted. I didn’t see crap! I was hunting before these people were born, but damn if I can match their savvy on game.
So back on the track we went. On the second try I actually saw part of what looked like a buffalo but declined to shoot due to the thick brush in front of his vitals. Chris patiently explained that a 400 grain bullet shot from a .416 Rigby will punch through the brush without deflecting. My bad.
So back on the track we went. We got the sticks up for the third time. This time I was ready to shoot and was waiting for the PH to say go. He didn’t like what he saw and the buffalo took off again.
So back on the track we went. The frustration was palpable. I heard the radio check in with the camp and knew I would get one more chance before we backed off this bull.
Chris told me solemnly “ this bull is pissed. He tried to charge us once and knows we are chasing him. If he can get to us he will .. “
As we got close for the fourth time I knew it was do or die .
We were about 100 yards away as Chris said “ last chance”
I boldly retorted with something manly like “ let’s do this! “
My mind drifted to the recent past when pretty much everyone I know told me I was crazy . I wondered if they were right. The dumbass 61 year old dog trainer with some kind of death wish or something to prove gets stomped , gored and mashed by an angry Cape Buffalo. I seriously wondered if I was going to make a “ widder Woman” out of my long suffering and faithful wife.
Back to the task at hand , I gritted my teeth and tried to look absolutely confident ( to say I was crying inside, like a little girl, would be an overstatement, but not by much! )
The Buffalo was motionless in the thickest mopane in the area. He was about 80 yards away when we began our final approach. Chris told Betwell to stay putat about sixty yards as the three of us, Lieutenant, Chris and I went ahead.
The one thing I had told Chris as soon as we met was “ I cannot crawl or shoot from a prone position, because I have had neck surgery and my neck won’t take it.”
Chris said” We’re gonna have to crawl “ We crawled over gravel and sand trying to get close enough for a shot. When we were about 20 or 30 yards from the buffalo none of us could see anything but a dark blob. Chris sat on the ground and got a better perspective. He motioned me to sit beside him. There was simply not enough room in the thorns we were in to set up the sticks. Chris said, “ do you see that six inch black spot in the brush? “ Yes” I replied. “ That’s his shoulder “ he whispered. “Rest the rifle on my shoulder and aim two inches left of dead center. “
BOOM!
I had no idea if I hit him or not, but the shot felt good.
Lieutenant and Chrs were watching the buffalo which was definitely
wounded a running. Unfortunately it was running right at Betwell who we had left 60 yards behind! Betwell was running too! Unfortunately he was running toward us! He was definitely showing an athletic pro
We flew from Lexington to Cincinnati ,to Frankfurt Germany. After a 12 hour layover we flew ten hours to Johannesburg, got on a van and drove seven more hours to camp.
Everyone was in high spirits as we met our outfitter and his lovely wife ,sighted guns , ate dinner and went to bed.
On the first day of the hunt we walked, and walked and walked. Our tracker ( Lieutenant) led the way , followed by Christoff , my PH , then me and finally Betwell who is a tracker ,skinner ,and representative of the camp.
We were on the track of several bulls all day long ,but kept being betrayed by the wind.
The second day was the same. We got close , then the wind shifted. So we walked some more. I was glad I have a job that requires quite a bit of physical activity, because there is a LOT of walking in buffalo hunting.
On the third day of the hunt we could not find the tracks of the group of bulls we had been pursuing, but did find one good set of bull tracks which we began to follow. By “ we” I mean the tracker and PH as I was constantly somewhere between befuddled and amazed at their ability to decipher the sign I couldn’t even see.Around mid morning Chris said we were close.
The sticks went up! Chris said the buff was in range and saw us. He charged in our direction, turned and bolted. I didn’t see crap! I was hunting before these people were born, but damn if I can match their savvy on game.
So back on the track we went. On the second try I actually saw part of what looked like a buffalo but declined to shoot due to the thick brush in front of his vitals. Chris patiently explained that a 400 grain bullet shot from a .416 Rigby will punch through the brush without deflecting. My bad.
So back on the track we went. We got the sticks up for the third time. This time I was ready to shoot and was waiting for the PH to say go. He didn’t like what he saw and the buffalo took off again.
So back on the track we went. The frustration was palpable. I heard the radio check in with the camp and knew I would get one more chance before we backed off this bull.
Chris told me solemnly “ this bull is pissed. He tried to charge us once and knows we are chasing him. If he can get to us he will .. “
As we got close for the fourth time I knew it was do or die .
We were about 100 yards away as Chris said “ last chance”
I boldly retorted with something manly like “ let’s do this! “
My mind drifted to the recent past when pretty much everyone I know told me I was crazy . I wondered if they were right. The dumbass 61 year old dog trainer with some kind of death wish or something to prove gets stomped , gored and mashed by an angry Cape Buffalo. I seriously wondered if I was going to make a “ widder Woman” out of my long suffering and faithful wife.
Back to the task at hand , I gritted my teeth and tried to look absolutely confident ( to say I was crying inside, like a little girl, would be an overstatement, but not by much! )
The Buffalo was motionless in the thickest mopane in the area. He was about 80 yards away when we began our final approach. Chris told Betwell to stay putat about sixty yards as the three of us, Lieutenant, Chris and I went ahead.
The one thing I had told Chris as soon as we met was “ I cannot crawl or shoot from a prone position, because I have had neck surgery and my neck won’t take it.”
Chris said” We’re gonna have to crawl “ We crawled over gravel and sand trying to get close enough for a shot. When we were about 20 or 30 yards from the buffalo none of us could see anything but a dark blob. Chris sat on the ground and got a better perspective. He motioned me to sit beside him. There was simply not enough room in the thorns we were in to set up the sticks. Chris said, “ do you see that six inch black spot in the brush? “ Yes” I replied. “ That’s his shoulder “ he whispered. “Rest the rifle on my shoulder and aim two inches left of dead center. “
BOOM!
I had no idea if I hit him or not, but the shot felt good.
Lieutenant and Chrs were watching the buffalo which was definitely
wounded a running. Unfortunately it was running right at Betwell who we had left 60 yards behind! Betwell was running too! Unfortunately he was running toward us! He was definitely showing an athletic pro
