The day I took my Bushbuck we had Tristan (camp manager and appy PH) along with us. Earlier in the morning he had picked up a vulture feather. When we got back to the baakie after the morning hunt he stuck the quill in the brushguard so the the feather was sticking up vertically above the height of the hood. Doug was giving him a hard time (as all good PH’s should do with their Appy) for putting it on THE DRIVERS SIDE. “Damn Appy, can’t do anything right! What were you thinking puttin’ it on my side where it will stick right up in front of me when I’m driving?!”
We are laughing and telling Tristan “good job”.
We got to where we were going and parked the baakie and off we went hunting bushbuck.
And then I shot my bushbuck!
We load up and start driving. “Well crap! I don’t dare move the damn thing now! Damn you Tristan, next time, passenger side! You are going to be up to your eyeballs in paperwork and scut work! Plan on it!”
We’re laughing at them again
Tristan doesn’t seem too worried...
We get to the skinning shed and Doug makes a comment about no one messing with the feather.
Well, here’s where things get interesting
The next morning the truck rolls up and we load up and get ready to roll. Doug says, “where’s the feather?” Everyone is looking around at each other or kicking their toe in the dirt right about now.
Mokore is very diligent about cleaning the baakie every day. Regardless of how late we got back to camp the night before, the baakie was always clean in the morning.
Apparrently whoever cleaned it last night, also “cleaned” the grill. Uh-oh.
Well, early that morning I came across another vulture feather, so I picked it up. Looks the same to me
The trackers don’t think so. They don’t say anything, but I can tell they don’t think this feather is anything like the other one.
We did not shoot anything that day. In fact it was the least productive day we had I believe.
I took that feather with me that evening. After the socialising and eating was all done and everyone had headed for their beds, I went back to my tent and got that feather and took it down to the fire with me. A little quiet solitude next to the fire is something I enjoy, and a small sniff of Jack Daniels makes it just about perfect.
After giving thanks for my many blessing and for such a fantastic trip so far, I committed that vulture feather to the coals and commented how I hoped that would help us to find those Kudu bulls Barry told us about.
I watched in mild surprise as the feather melted and the quill started to curl and twist. A lot like the corkscrew of Kudu horns! Well that is just a little disturbing...
The next morning I told Doug it was going to be a good day today. We are going to kill a kudu. “I like your confidence”, he says. “Yup, I burned that feather last night, we’re good to go.” He looked at me like I had just told him I threw his rifle in the lake! “You burned the feather!?!”
“Well, um, yeah. Ya know, it was no good. Damn thing was broke.”
“Dear Lord, whatever you do, DO NOT tell my trackers that. They will not see the point of even getting out of bed!”
“Yes Boss”. Shit!
Well, you already know how things turned out with the Kudu, so I guess I didn’t screw up the feather burning ceremony too bad!
We never mentioned anything about this, but I did have to yank Doug’s chain as the trackers were loading the Kudu in the truck. “What do you think Doug, shall we tell them about the feather now?” The look I got in return would damn near blister paint!
True story!
That’s what it came to be known as to Doug and the trackers.
