Today was my day to hunt, after a breakfast of fresh sausage, bacon, eggs and toast I was close to falling asleep as we left the lodge. The drive to the ranch is very interesting as you pass waterfalls, children going to school in blazers and sweaters (thanks to the British, it always amuses and annoys me when I see kids across the world, with their backpack and in summer wearing the vestiges of the empire that the sun did actually set on) in a climate 10’s of degrees hotter than the fog and drizzle of the British Isles. These kids walk 10 or more miles to school, the cattle crossing the dirt tracks, the pigs and their piglets invading the neighbors maize fields, Coca Cola signs at every little village store, the seemingly endlessly long trains carrying coal, plantations of eucalyptus and wattles, villages with the unique, perfectly round homes with thatched huts that the zulu’s seem to like.
Finally we are at the gates to the ranch, need to shake of the drowsiness, it was time to hunt. Yesterday this area was awash with impala, the word must have got out that we were going to hunt them today because there wasn’t a single one to see. Well that is not exactly true, there were does and fawn all over but the males were as scarce as the airhostesses when you are on a trans pacific flight and they have served your meal but do not return for hours to pick up the trays at the exact same time that you got to go to the rest room. (using the name “rest room” in an airplane is a misnomer for a 6.2 dude like me anyways).
We glass, drive, glass again, no luck, see a couple but they are way too young. We then decide to walk over some ridges, there is game all over, blesbuck in the 10’s, a couple of hartebeest, zebra all over, some wildebeest, even some very amused giraffe’s but no impala.
The wife had an appointment at the spa so we dropped her off to another truck after lunch. Lets hunt this other side of the ranch Clayton said, it has quite a few impala. Off we went, the terrain was very different, a lot of scrub land, in places very thick. Clayton slams on the brakes, there is a bunch of kudu does lounging in the shade but no impala. We meander further through and Clayton see some bucks high up on the crest of a ridge, up we went, they had gone over, was too thick on the other side so we trudge back down. Claytons cell phone goes off, after spending time in airports across the world I thought I knew every irritating cell phone ring tone but hearing what seemed a kookaburra in the middle of the hunt was amusing, it was one of his trackers, he had located a herd further down, off we went. (later on I learnt that the tone was actually the call of a guinea fowl, very common all cross this area, presumably it doesn’t distract animals that are very used to its call). Out of the bushes materializes this zulu, he looked like a taller version, without moustache of Johnny Walker in indian movies. He gestured towards where the impalas had gone, damn animals here only like to climb uphill. Off we went, one vale, nothing, another clearing nothing, under a bush I see a pile of stones, seemed man made, wondered why and then moved on. Later during a visit to a zulu village I was told that King Shaka, the ancient zulu king had implemented some practices. One was that where ever a zulu warrior fell, he was covered by a heap of stones, anyone passing by is supposed to spit on a stone and throw it on the pile, if it stays in place they would have good luck, if it slid down it was bad luck.
Off we went again, the kids were sitting on the chairs in the bed, I had to yell at them to keep their hands inside as the kikud trees had large white thorns and they had no clue how much those things could burn if they pricked you. We ford the river, way up, up on a ridge we see a nice impala ram, he was high tailing it out of there. Damn. Maybe the zulu king was not too pleased with us for not observing their custom. Anyways tomorrow was another day.
It is cold and windy, and it is raining, as we get to the ranch it is still cold but has stopped raining but the wind is still blowing, all the animals would seek shelter in the hollows and valleys to get away from it. We start at the area where Jonny Walker had met us yesterday, this time he has an old pair of binocs, he mutters something and Clayton nods and turns around and whispers, he had located a couple of rams on the hill opposite, follow me. Off we went, Johnny Walker slithering threw the grass in a fast crawl, Clayton bent over and me trying my best to be an ostrich. Johnny Walker motions us to stop and now gets on his belly and slithers away, in a few minutes he materializes from the brush, him and Clayton converse in zulu, Clayton motions me to wait and off they go. After an hour Clayton appears, gestures for me to follow him. We use the ample cover and then Clayton stops me and whispers in my ear “see those two dead bushes, nice buck is bedded there, can you see him” I lift my binocs “nothing”, “look in that gap” “I cannot see anything” look up through that gap about 10 yards” “I see him”, very sleek and beautiful but no shot as he is directly facing us and there is not enough of his chest visible. Suddenly Clayton tenses, “ get ready, get ready” in my mind everything is tuned out, I place the Brno on a branch, it moves, I try to steady it with my hand grabing it and my rifle, not the right thing to do, the buck gets up, two others appear like magic, they are on the move, “wait for him to reach that clearing and shoot”, I swing the brno and see the fur through the clearing, I see the one we want and shoot, as I do that I know it is not going to happen, as I pivot the whole branch has bent throwing off my shot. I am sick in my stomach, did I wound the magnificent animal. Clayton grabs my shoulder, some with me he says, we run backwards to the road as it has a better view of the hill that we believe that the animals have gone to, suddenly Clayton screams, “shoot, shoot” I look towards the hill that is now behind us, frantically looking for them, Clayton is moving in the opposite direction, I turn towards him, “they were right here he pants”, the animals had decided to circle back towards us. We search but they are gone.
Wait here Clayton says, I collapse to the ground, the wildflowers provide a clean, coy smell around me, I am glad I did not wound the animal, it would be the biggest impala we saw and was the only miss I had during the hunt. Clayton later told me the noise of a tractor had spooked the animals.
Now I wanted an impala real bad, it had gone to a must hunt from a maybe I will. We head out towards another part of the ranch, way in the distance, and yes, once agin up, right on top of a hill were some zebras, “lets go take a look at those” said Clayton and off we drive half way up the hill. We get out and try to go around the hill to creep up on them, a sole blesbuck that was bedded stands up and looks at us intently, damn, he may spook the zebras, we hold still in the hope that he would move on so we back track and try a more frontal approach, a young zebra watched us intently, we could not figure out if he was a male, “let’s try to get closer” we creep up and they all take off.
On our way back we see these huge birds, cranes. We were very lucky to see the blue cranes, official bird of RSA http://10000birds.com/blue-crane-south- ... l-bird.htm
Tomorrow we were going to go fly fishing for brown and rainbow trout. We have fished for trout with spinners but never fly fished, hope we catch some.
Oh well, tomorrow is another day.
