Hunting Day’s 4, 5 & 6 – The Elusive Impala
For those that haven’t been over there yet this year please understand that the bush in the area I was in was extremely and unusually thick. The areas have received record amounts of rainfall that created widespread flooding. While the amount of rain the area received is great for the local flora and fauna it is playing hell with the hunting industry. Areas that are normally dried up still contain a lot of standing water. The trees are still green and the grass and other undergrowth is high. Visibility is extremely low and animals that prefer the thick bush are living the good life.
I believe this will pay off big time for trophy quality when the areas do dry up but for now it is causing a lot of grief with outfitters. We had received many reports while there that a lot of outfitters were suffering and coming home with empty trucks. While I do believe that some of our success thus far was due to luck Chris did an amazing job of finding areas that worked well with my particular fitness level and shooting skills. We worked very hard for the animals we harvested and I think that is why we were successful.
Anyway on to the story…….
Chris’ plan was to hunt for Bushbuck in the morning and then go after Impala and Warthog after that. Let me tell you there is going to be some monster Bushbuck out there later in the season. We tried everything short of burning the little buggers out and while we did see a couple we were unable to get one to stay still long enough to take a shot. With the bush being so thick and the switching wind being what it was Mother Nature was not going to let us connect with one. I made the decision that I would like to forget about the Bushbuck for this trip and focus on the rest of the animals.
We spent the next two days searching for the plentiful and easy to get Impala. We saw quite a few but every time we would put a stalk on them we would get the inevitable gust of wind at our backs and the Impala would make that wheezing noise they do and run off into the distance.
Time and time again we were getting busted. The thick bush was making longer shots impossible and the switching winds were busting us up close. In the beginning it was no big thing but I think after a while it was really starting to bother Chris and Samson. Apparently the running joke in Africa is when a PH isn’t worth a shit they say he couldn’t even get an Impala.
I was beginning to think that the rumor of how plentiful and easy to hunt Impala was simply a marketing ploy to get foreign hunter over there. I was getting a quite a bit of enjoyment getting friendly digs into Chris about it however.
After day 6 myself and Chris sat down and discussed a new strategy, I asked him if there was any areas he knew where we would be able to catch the Impala feeding in a field or open area where we could take a longer shot at them. I promised him that if we can catch them in the open I will make the shot.
The morning of Day 7 Chris informed me that we were heading south to an area that had a lot of nice Impala on it. When we arrived to the beautiful property I immediately had seen that Chris came through again. Off in the distance we could see a huge open area. We met up with the landowner, a very nice gentleman named Rhadie (I apologize if that is not the correct spelling). After a short conversation he informed us that some of the Impala frequent the large open area that we had seen on the way in. He offered to drive us to a small creek bed south of the clearing where we could begin our stalk from.
Myself and Samson jumped into the box of the bakkie and grabbed a seat. As we headed towards the are we would be hunting I took a moment to enjoy the view of the mountains that were kissed up against the area we were going to be hunting.
We arrived at the creek bed and disembarked from the vehicle. After grabbing my gear and throwing a bit of suntan lotion on (I learned the hard way how quickly it heated up around here) we set off in the direction of the field.
The field was expansive to say the least, I didn’t range the far end but it was at least 1 ½ km long. Lush tall grass filled the field only broken by the occasional tree to provide cover. The field was surrounded by thick thorny bush on three sides with the creek bed bordering the south end. From where we stood we could see a herd of Impala in the far north east end as well as a mixed herd of Red Hartebeest, Zebra and Impala along the eastern fringe of the field. One lonely ram wandered in the middle of the field, he was the one we wanted.
I took a quick scan of the geography spotting a small hill along the south border. “Can we move to that hill, we can glass from there and it would provide a good perch to take a shot? I whispered.
“No problem” Chris returned.
We stalked the distance to the hill staying low and single file. Once at the hill we crept up and peeked over the edge. The ram we wanted was slowly feeding his way across the field. My trusty terrapin gave me a range over 700 yards. I know I can make a shot like that with a good prone shooting position under good environmental conditions however the thing that gave me pause is that my rifle had been banging around the back of trucks and though thick bush for a week. I know the scope took a couple good whacks and although I trust nightforce optics with my life I was not willing to risk wounding an animal on the off chance that my scope had shifted slightly.
We discussed the situation quickly, the ram was clearly not going to move towards us so we decided to try and stalk through the brush that bordered the eastern edge of the field and move into a closer shooting position.
We snuck over to the tree line where we were greeted with the thickest nest of thorn bushes I have ever seen. It was a challenge just to find a place to get into the brush. Finally after a few minutes of looking we were able to work our way in and begin the tedious task of picking our way through the thorn bushes towards our quarry.
It was a slow process in which I strained my left butt cheek duck walking through a hole in the thorns barely small enough to crawl through. Shortly there after I wound up caught up by two of the hook shaped thorn bushes. I now know what a fly in a web feels like, as I sat there with my clothes hooked by a dozen or so of the little sickle shaped thorns trying to be as silent as possible my inside voice was cursing a blue streak that would make a rig worker cringe.
After freeing myself from my hooked captor I quickly resumed the stalk. After Samson and Chris believed we had gone far enough we made our way back out to the field. A small group of Impala stood less than 100 yards ahead of us against the tree line. We all did our best impression of a living statue until the eagle eyed ewes decided we were nothing to be concerned about and continued feeding. We slowly crept along the edge of the trees to where we would have a better glassing/shooting position.
Peering through the brush Chris motioned for me to come closer. “There is a 20 inch or so ram standing in the middle of the ewes. He’s not the one we saw earlier and he’s no record breaker but with the luck we’ve been having you may want to think about taking him. If we find a bigger one later I’ll make you a good deal on him”.
I knew better than to push ones luck. With the hunting conditions the way they were I would take what I could get.
Chris set up the trigger stick and I slowly moved into position for the shot. Looking through the scope I could see the ram, they were all looking right at us. It wasn’t an overly long shot but the Impala are shockingly narrow through the chest. I settled the crosshairs mid chest and gave a gentle squeeze to the trigger. BOOOMMM, the trusty .338 spoke again and the Impala dropped in his tracks. The shot was true and dead center.
Everyone was elated that the curse of the Impala was finally lifted. Chris and Samson both shook my hand and as we looked back we could see Rhadie had been watching the whole ordeal from a hill overlooking the large field. After watching the ram fall he was kindly bringing the truck over to us.
Suddenly the big herd of Impala that had been up against the edge of the field earlier broke cover and burst into the clearing. Chris quickly waved off Rhadie and we waited to see if the big ram would make an appearance. Sure as hell the ram popped out and began rounding up all the ewes that figured it was safer in the open. Then as quickly as they had popped out they rushed back into the bush and disappeared. Rhadie fired the truck back up and continued up to meet us. Chris walked over to speak with him.
Samson and myself stayed put discussing today’s events then out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of movement. “You’re shitting me, Sammy look” I pointed as the entire herd of Impala once again burst out of the trees and back into the open! The ram was with them again trying to keep control of the ensuing chaos.
“Chris, Chris” Samson waved.
Chris saw what was going on and ran up to where we were perched. We had already set up the sticks and I was ranging the herd. 340 yards.
“There he is, the one we want is farthest to the left in front of that big bush” Chris whispered.
“Ah yes, I’ve got him” I replied.
Chris and I continued the communication as he moved through the herd to the left. I ranged him again, he had moved another 20 yards out putting him at 360 yards.
Chris not yet knowing the distance asked “It a fair ways, can you make that shot”?
I adjusted and stabilized my kneeling shooting position and focused through the scope. A couple of slow breaths and I was able to see the wobble of the reticle was well within the animals vitals.
“Yes I can make it” I think I said it out loud but at that point I was completely zoned in on my sight picture and position.
“Wait until he’s broadside and let him have it” Chris added.
The ram slowly cleared a ewe that was in front of him and stopped broadside. The reticle settled on his front vitals and I took up the remaining pressure on the trigger. BOOOMMM the rifle barked a second time today and the ram disappeared in the recoil.
The ram was gone and Chris was shaking his head and laughing.
“Is he down” I asked? I had heard the smack but wanted to confirm.
“Dropped in his tracks” Chris responded.
I couldn’t believe my luck at having the opportunity to take two more magnificent animals. As we all stood going over what had just happened the heard from the north west corner of the field began a quick run single file into the bush. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as around the entire herd of 15 rams (yes they were all rams) filed one by one into the tree line.
I think we were all relieved that we had managed to put not one but two of the “elusive and rare” Impala in the salt.
The ride back to the ranch was filled with jokes about how the last few days unfolded holding a much lighter mood than the last two days. A few celebratory drinks and a delicious dinner at Sabrisa ranch wrapped up another amazing hunting day in Africa.
It’s not over yet stay tuned for warthog and blesbok.